Bobby Singer had a hard childhood. He grew up with an abusive father, and a mother to scared to stand up for herself or her son. He remembers all too clearly the harsh sound of his father's knuckles hitting his mother's face. He remembers the cold words that held no love, and the face printed in an angry scowl still haunts him.
He didn't really mean to shoot his father. He was scared, he was hurting his mother and it was just in the heat of the moment. He remembers the heavy feeling of the hunting rifle in his hands, when he finally stood up to that abusive asshole. He didn't plan to shot him, but when he grabbed his mother Bobby panicked. His mother's cries as he picked her up by her red hair scared him. So he fired.
He remembered the involuntary step back he took. The momentum and the power of the rifle knocking him back just so slightly. The shock that flooded his body when it finally kicked in what he had just done.
His father didn't even realize what was happening. One minute he was hurting his mother and the next minute he was collapsing with the grace of the dead. Bobby remembered staring at the gapping bullet hole In his head. And he remembers the shaking in his arms as he lowered the gun.
Bobby felt conflicted as he mourned his father. But finally felt free from the abuse. The words stilled echoed in his head "you break everything you touch."
Bobby grew up and he never wanted kids. He didn't want to risk that he would become the man that he always despised, and he didn't want to dam kids to that risk. So, he never wanted kids.
But the love of his life wanted kids. Beautiful sweet Karen. She lit up Bobby's world. She wanted kids so badly. But still Bobby was scared, he couldn't risk still remembered the argument with Karen. The desperation in her voice, and he wished he could just go back and change it.
Days later Karen's eyes turned jet black, unforgiving, scary black. An evil wicked smile printed it's self on her face, an expression that didn't belong there. He tried everything to reason with her, to fight it. But the demon inside her was too strong, and it wanted Bobby's head on a stick.
The cold hard dread settled low in his stomach as he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to do. He doesn't really remember how to knife got in his hand. But the next thing he knew the knife was embedding itself deep inside the left side of his wife's chest.
Karen looked down on the knife, and laughed. A laugh that was so far from the happy carefree laugh that Bobby knew. She pulled the knife from her chest with ease without a flinch. Somehow Bobby was stabbing her again. But nothing worked and he grew scared.
Bobby didn't know how it happened. One minute it was just him and his possessed wife. The next minute another man was bursting through the door, blasting bullets from and gun and yelling unfamiliar words in Latin. The demon screamed and convulsed as the words washed over it. Next thing he knew there was black smoke streaming from her mouth and the familiar sight of a dead body dropping to the floor once again filled Bobby's eyes.
Turns out the guy that saved his life name was Rufus Turner. Rufus introduced Bobby into the world of hunting and monsters that hide under your bed. The duo hunted together for years and eventually built a strong friendship.
Rufus was the first to tell him about John Winchester who was gaining a reputation for himself. Quickly becoming famous in the hunting world and gaining a reputation from hunters and monsters alike. John was introduced to hunting when a demon pinned his wife to the ceiling and burnt her alive. Bobby immediately felt sympathy.
Turns out John Winchester had two boys, Sam and Dean. John was hellbent on revenge and ended up basically abandoning his kids. He tried- oh god he tried. But he couldn't raise two kids and hunt demons. Bobby hated the man for dragging two kids in this life. Those boys would be raised to be soldiers, not kids. Bobby knew one day those boys would be powerful and dangerous hunters.
As fate turned out these boys became his, and he loved them with all his heart. Sam and Dean Winchester grew up to be heroes. They grew up to save the world. Not by their father's hand. But by an old drunk, who had lost his wife and devoted his life to hunting monsters. Bobby Singer didn't raise his boys to be warriors like John Winchester planned, but he raised them to be heroes.
The first-time Bobby meet John Winchester was on a Sunday.
Bobby was flicking through an old folklore book when he heard the deep grumble of a classic car. Standing up he made his way towards the window. Pulling away the dusty threadbare curtains and peeking out, he saw a well-cared for black 1967 Chevy Impala. He hummed at the delight of such a beautiful car.
Climbing from the car was a tall man. He had a strong build and a small beard. His head was starting to turn grey giving him the salt and pepper look. He watched as the man looked over his shoulder back into the car. But Bobby couldn't see anybody.
Making his way slowly up the steps he knocked on the door. Bobby waited a couple seconds before making his way to the person on the other side.
"I ain't buying anything" he said in his usual gruff voice. He didn't mean to scare people off but he wanted to sound intimidating, and hopefully if this man wasn't a hunter he could get rid of him easily.
"oh no I'm not selling anything" the man said. He held eye contract but he immitted a nervous energy and Bobby just wanted him to get on with whatever he wanted. "are you Bobby Singer?" the man asked.
Bobby immediately stiffened, he was unsure who the man was. But he knew his name. slowly he reached behind the doorway and gripped the hunting rifle he kept there. "Who's asking?" he growled.
The man seemed taken back by Bobby's sudden change of tone "John Winchester" he held his hand out. Bobby immediately relaxed. So, this was the famous Winchester.
"John," Bobby greeted "Bobby Singer" and he took John's hand holding it in a firm shake. "heard a lot about you Winchester, earning yourself quite a reputation."
John seemed taken back slightly by the statement "well I have heard a lot about you too Singer" he told Bobby "I was visiting the Harvelle Roadhouse not to long ago. They recommended that I come see 'the best hunter around"
"wow" Bobby exclaimed "well they got their facts wrong" he knew the Harvelles. Bill was a good hunter and his wife aided him with research, he had heard that they had just recently had a baby girl. "com' on in John" he said inviting the younger hunter into the house.
John made a move to come into the house but faulted before the doorway. He seemed to have a silent argument in his head. "you right there John?" Bobby asked.
"uhh Mr. Singer wo-" John started.
"Please John call me Bobby"
"Bobby, I- uh -I have my kids in the car…" John said nervously. Bobby then realized about the two young Winchesters. Kids weren't introduced into hunting regularly so when news went out there were hunters kids. Well hunters kept track of them "would you mind if they come in with me?" he finished nervously.
Bobby hesitated for only a moment "John I would be happy to have a couple extra Winchesters in my house" although the statement was untrue, he wanted to meet the two kids.
"Boys, you can come out now" John yelled as he turned to face the car.
Bobby watched as two pairs of eyes popped from behind the seats, one bright green and the other hazel. He watched as the two boys slowly made their way out the classic car. The younger one quickly moving towards his older brother and holding his hand.
One of the boys had a short shaggy blond hair. His eyes bright green, they should have been filled with love and confusion. But they were weary and untrusting. It made Bobby angry that these kids would never really have a normal life. The other boy was younger. With a long mop of dark brown hair. His had big round hazel eyes that were filled with love and confusion, all to happy. And all to innocent.
The older one was able to walk up the step, but the younger boy had to put his arms on the steps to help haul his small body onto the higher steps.
"Boys this is Bobby Singer" John said introducing the boys to Bobby
"Hi Mr. Singer" the older one said
"Hi Mr. Siger" the younger one tried to copy smiling first at his brother, then at his dad and finally at Bobby. The group chuckled slightly at Sam's attempts.
"please call me Bobby boys"
"alright" Dean said nodding at Bobby.
"Ok Boby" Sam said, and Bobby smiled in Sam's direction.
"This is Dean," John said pointing at the older boy "and this is Sam" he said pointing at the younger brother.
"Hi Dean, hi Sam" Bobby said crouching down to their level.
"His name is Sammy" Dean corrected
"ok Sorry. Hi Sammy" Bobby said correcting himself. Sammy beamed at him "how old are you boys?" he asked
"I'm 7" Dean beamed pumping his chest out
"m' tree" Sammy said pumping his chest out and copying Dean.
"wow you guys are so old" Bobby exclaimed "well com on guys lets come inside"
Bobby lead the trio into the lounge room, stacks of books piled around the corners. Bobby watched John eye the glass of whisky on his desk, he couldn't quite place the expression that passed across his face. He watched as Sammy's face lit up at the sight of the large piles of books. While Dean rolled his eyes.
"I'm just going to get my journal from the car" John said "could you look after Dean and Sammy for a second"
Bobby looked down and gulped "yeah sure" as John left he knew he shouldn't be scared but he wasn't really good with kids. Sammy looked up at him and smiled walking towards him he held his arms up.
"up?" he asked Bobby hesitated slightly as he pulled Sammy into his arms. Sammy giggled and buried his face into the side of his neck. Bobby tried not to squirm as it tickled slightly. He smiled and relished the weight on his chest. He had never held a child before. Although he never wanted one, he loved the feeling. Look down at Dean he was taken back by the murderous glare that had filled the child's face. Bobby wondered how such a young thing could manage that.
"you hurt him and I will kill you" the words rushed out of Deans mouth fast and dangerous, and Bobby was taken back. This boy would do anything to keep his brother safe.
"Dean, don't worry kiddo, Sammy's fine" Bobby said hoping that he sounded kind enough. Bobby watched as Dean studied every inch of him. He looked unsure still though and Bobby felt self-conscious as he stood with a child in his arms under the careful watch of his protective older brother – who happened to be 7.
As Dean studied Bobby, Bobby studied Dean. The child was still so young – at only 7 the boy seemed so much older. The look in his eyes were so much alike of those that Bobby had seen in older hunters – the defeated look. Dean had seen things that belong in nightmares, and had his happy life ripped out from under his feet. Dean would grow up to be a hunter, no doubt. The kid would never have a school musical or live in a house- motel room for over 4 months. He would never go to the park to play catch with his dad. Bobby could already see the outline of a small knife in the front pocket of his jeans.
When Sammy giggled again Dean looked up at Sammy. He studied Sammy carefully. He watched where Bobby placed his arms and looked carefully into Bobby's eyes. As a couple, more seconds of the stare off, Dean gave up "Don't hurt him" he finally said. "Dad said it way my job to protect him"
Bobby felt a flush of anger towards John. It wasn't a 7-year old's job to take care of his younger brother. That's what parents were for. Dean was supposed to love, and hate his brother. To fight over who got the front seat, and who got the first shower. Not protect him from the evil that lurked in the dark, or stich him up after a bad hunt.
"Down," Sammy demanded squirming in Bobby's arms, Bobby was jarred from his thoughts and quickly placed the child on the ground and Sammy padded across to Dean, popping his small fist in his mouth.
John appeared in the doorway, carrying a small journal. "alright let's look what you have here" Bobby said leading the small family over to his desk. "Dean, you and Sammy can sit on the couch, don't touch anything. Assume everything is loaded" he told the two young kids.
Dean carefully guided his little brother to the couch, and helped prop him up before he climbed on himself. Keeping quiet the two young boys spoke together in small soft whispers. Occasionally laughing quietly.
John and Bobby started working on the notes John had taken from the couple years on hunting he had experienced. Bobby adds to the notes and corrects the mistakes – even the small one – because a mistake can be deadly when you hunting a supernatural creature with supernatural strength.
When Bobby pulled out the large dusty folklore books from the large bookshelf behind the desk, John quickly worked over the books adding notes and studying the small pictures that the book provides. Bobby appreciated the care John used when turning the old dusty pages that have long lost their pristine white.
When Bobby looked over at the boys 15 minutes later they were both sound asleep. Dean curled protectively around Sam, his arm draped over his little brother's small body. While Sam sucked on his thumb melted into his brothers embrace.
"you have two very special kids there John" Bobby exclaimed, still staring at the boys.
"I know, they all I have left. I will protect those two with my life." John said sadly "it's all Mary left me"
Bobby smiled sadly at John remembering his own loss of Karen. Turning back towards the boys he hoped he would see them again. But what Bobby wanted most of all way that the protective bond that Dean held over Sam wouldn't leave.
Bobby and the Winchester trio developed a special friendship. Sometimes the whole family would come and stay for weeks at a time. Other times John would drop the boys at 'uncle Bobby's' while he did a hunt.
Dean shared a lot with his father, he didn't stray far from his father's footsteps and was very involved in the hunt. Dean listened to his father's music, and practically drooled at the sight of the impala. Dean learned to hustle and spent his time in bars earning money, or picking up chicks. Dean was confident and hated school. So, different from his younger brother. But Dean's protective instinct didn't leave, he would protect Sammy with his life.
But Sam was so different from his father and brother. He was so trusting and had a heart of gold. While his Dean and John were focused on the hunt Sam wanted to do homework. He wanted to join the school soccer team. At 13 Sam was still young, while his brother was 17 and gaining independence. Bobby could see Sam try and fit in with his family. But he didn't want to hunt and he dreamt of a normal life. But he kept his mouth closed. As his father fought to kill the demon that killed his wife, and save the countless strangers that would never really know his name. so, Sam was dragged along, still dreaming of a normal life.
Bobby keeps a lot of alcohol in his house. Stored in the fridge and in cupboards. Always a bottle on the desk surrounded by books open with the covers falling away.
Dean was 16 when he had his first beer – at Bobby's house - although Bobby disagreed with John's choice of letting Dean drink, well Dean had his beer. The celebration from a good hunt. Dean had done well with the werewolf.
Sam was only 12 but had hesitantly asked if he could have a little bit. Bobby didn't see the harm in a couple drops, but John refused. Sam looked away quickly, but Bobby could see the disappointment in his eyes. The desperation to fit in.
So as Dean enjoyed his first beer, Sam sat in the corner leaning his homework on his knees as he quickly wrote down the answers to the equations. Sam kept his eyes cast down. Even though John invited him to sit with the rest of the family Sam refused both his and Dean attempts.
Bobby watched Sam's inner battle. He wanted to be part of the family but he just didn't fit it. Even though Dean did his best to include Sam in his activities and hunting, well sometimes 4 years is a big age difference.
Eventually all the Winchesters headed upstairs. So not long after Bobby headed up the stairs himself. But Bobby had always had a problem with sleeping. Bobby stalked through the house and was about to go back upstairs when he spotted Sam in the kitchen. A small glass of water in one hand and a book in the other. He always seemed to have a book on him somewhere. Bobby knew he was going to grow up book smart. As he walked to the kitchen table and hesitated slightly. Bobby pushed himself into the shadows in an attempt to hide himself. He watched as he picked up Dean's discarded bottle of bear. Peaking in through the top he saw the couple small drops at the bottom. So, Sam tipped his head back and tasted the drop of beer. His face was a mixture of disgust and interest. As Bobby creeped back up the stairs he hoped Sam would touch any alcohol for a while.
Months later there was a knock of the door, - Bobby didn't get visitors of the unexpected kind often – so his picked up the shotgun that was leaning against the doorway. Pulling the door open he was surprised to find the Winchesters at the door. Dean and John looking scared as hell as they held an extremely drunk Sam between them. Sam was swaying in their grasp and blood covered his shirt. It hit him hard when he discovered the reason Sam was drunk.
"Heyy-yy Bo-bb-y-y" Sam slurred as he looked up at Bobby with unfocused painfilled eyes.
"Bobby please" John begged as he shifted Sam a little on his shoulder. Bobby was momentarily stunned as he witnesses John Winchester begging.
But quickly he pushed his brain back into gear "what the hell happened?" he growled as he cleared the path way.
"the hunt" whispered Dean, "the werewolf clawed him." He stopped and looked down sadly at his little brother. He brushed his hands slowly through his hair "he was in so much pain, he had to stop it somehow, dad had some whisky on him"
Bobby looked again and the small boy on the couch, the boy had always been small for his age. Somehow that made Bobby feel guiltier as he pulled out the needle and thread, about to stich a kid's chest back together.
Bobby found himself thinking about sometime else as his slipped the needle into the kid's skin.
John and Dean were both tall, Dean probably had a couple inches left to grow but Sam was so much smaller. He hoped the kid would grow a bit more, a height advance is good when hunting.
Bobby kept counting down the stiches. There were 3 long deep slashes along his chest. Sam's face scrunched up in pain even with the alcohol in his system. John sat rubbing circles in his leg while Dean held his hand whispering words of comfort.
Sam groaned as the pain became too much to keep quiet. Bobby whispered apologies to him and he finished the last stitches.
Bobby kicked John out when Sam was 14.
Just what Bobby had thought when Sam was only 3 – 11 years earlier – Sam and Dean both didn't get a proper childhood. They grew up hunter's sons, never had child minds. They had lost their gentle touch. Their father taught them when they were so young. They didn't have the white picket fence and 2.5 kids. They melted silver and knew how to shoot a perfect shot at 10.
Although both boys never enjoyed their childhood, well Dean loved hunting. But Sam wanted out. So when Bobby walked into yet another argument with Sam, he chose to listen instead of leaving the two to fight it out.
"Dad, why can't we just stay in a place more than a few months at a time" Sam argued "I want an education, my grades will start falling behind" Bobby could see the tears that threated to fall, but as always Sam tried to stand high.
"SAM, you don't need to be doing homework all the time" John shot back at him "school isn't important the hunt is"
Sam's face printed its self in an angry scowl "All you care about it the hunt dad" Sam yelled back.
"Sam don't you dare spe-"John growled.
"No let me speak for once." Sam yelled. He took a half step back as his father started walking towards him. But he stopped himself mid-step and held his ground "all you do is hunt," he repeated.
"We are saving people" John shot back
"THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW OUR NAMES, THEY WON'T EVEN REMEMBER US" Sam argued. "We can't live like this, I want a normal life dad" Sam whispered.
"Well you don't Sam" John spat "we are hunters and I'm your father you don't get a choice in this"
Sam finally gave up. His eyes dropping to the ground and avoiding his father gaze. "Why can't I get a choice in this" he whispered to himself. "Yes sir" he said to his dad.
Bobby felt a wave of anger wash over himself. Kids weren't supposed to 'yes sir, no sir' to their parents. Their supposed to eat your food and break your heart. Bobby could see how hard John tried with his kids. He tried so hard to raise kids, fight monsters. And track a demon to avenge his dead wife. But he couldn't live two lives and he had to choose one.
"Why can't you be more like Dean" John whispered. Apparently not quite enough though.
Sam and Bobby head whipped around. Sam clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together. His nostrils flares. "Guess what Dad, newsflash. I'm not Dean. So stop trying to mound me into your perfect little solider."
John's face darkened. "Who do you think your talking to boy. I'm your father and you will do as I say. You will not talk back to me, I don't care who you are." Bobby gaped at John's harsh words. Johns face softened a little "I try as hard as I can"
Sam scoffed "Well you don't do a very good job at it"
Bobby doesn't remember the words that were spoken – yelled – next. He vaguely remembers John stepping forward. He doesn't remember what John said, but he remembers the dangerous tone. He remembers hoping Sam said nothing next. but he doesn't remember the words that Sam did speak.
He does remember the exact moment that Dean walked into the room, That Johns hand balled into a fist and plummeted into Sam's jaw. Knocking him to the ground. Sam fell with a crash, landing harshly on his back. Knocking the air from his lungs. He doesn't remember what Dean yelled. He does remember the yelp of pain from Sam. And he defiantly remembers Dean running towards his baby brother glaring at John.
He watched tears stream silently down Sam's face. A deep bruise already forming at his jawline. The look of betrayal shinning so bright in his young eyes "Dad" Sam whispered brokenly. Dean and Bobby both stared daggers at John.
"Oh God, Sam" John whispered. He moved over to walk to Sam. But was stopped by both Dean and Bobby.
"Don't you come anywhere near us" Dean growled.
"Don't think about even going near the boy" Bobby yelled.
Bobby was happy by the look of gratitude that crossed across Dean's face. "I- didn't mean it" John stammered.
"That's no excuse John" Bobby exclaimed. He ran a hand through his hair. "What have you done John, you can't hit your kids."
Johns face opened and closed like a fish out of water. "Singer! You can tell me how to raise my kids" He yelled changing so quickly. "You don't even have kids of your own, so don't tell me what to do with mine"
"You bastard John Winchester!" Bobby yelled. Johns words had hit a nerve. Pulling out you have no kids card. Bobby didn't want kids for a reason. He never did tell anyone why he never wanted kids. He never told anyway about the abuse. So, Bobby got angry. "Get out of my house"
"What?"
"You heard me" Bobby yelled he pulled out his gun, "Get out of my house before I fill you with buckshot."
John gaped at him. So, Bobby cocked the gun "I mean it. Get. Out"
"Come on boys" John finally said. Dragging the boys outside he pushed them both into the car. The deep rumble of the engine stared up. And the last thing Bobby saw was Sam slowly waving goodbye.
"He's gone Bobby" Dean said through the phone "He's gone," the broken whisper broke Bobby to the core.
"What Boy, who's gone" Bobby asked, trying to keep the panic from his voice.
"College," Dean laughed a dry humorless laugh "Stanford, his brain got him a full ride to Stanford." Dean's voice dropped to a whisper "Dad told his if he left to never come back, and he left."
Bobby was speechless and was unable to provide Dean any comfort. "He got into Stanford Bobby" Dean whispered before the dial tone signalled that Dean was gone.
Bobby found himself thinking about the Winchesters more often. Sam had left for Stanford when he was 18. That had been the first and the last time the boys had called him. As much as he hated to admit it, well, he loved those boys. He didn't believe that he was good enough to be a father but, he loved those dam Winchesters.
He had gotten wind that Dean was hunting and that Sam was back in the game. Bobby wished that he knew why Sam had left Stanford. He had gotten out, he had gotten away.
But he missed them, he missed Dean's cocky attitude and Sam always digging through the house for a new book to study. Dean was 18 and Sam was 14 when he last saw them, he wondered if they had changed.
So, in the middle of the day Bobby heard the rumble of a classic car in his driveway he ran to the window. He saw the Impala driving slowly and carefully in the driveway. He smiled at the thought of Dean behind the wheel. He knew how much that boy loved that car.
When the car finally stopped two tall young man jumped out of the car. They walked up the steps to the front door knocking on the door. Bobby quickly moved the open the door not even bothering grabbing his shotgun. He knew who was here.
When he opened the door, he was rewarded with Dean, he's cocky grin still in place. But Dam that boy, Dean grew up to be pretty. "Bobby Singer," Dean said as he stuck out his hand. "Dean Winchester, you would have had to heard of me, I hear I'm a legend around these parts"
"Oh, shut up you Idjit," Bobby laughed back "Boy it's good to see you, com' on in"
Bobby stepped out of the way to let Dean through. Then that's when Sam came into view. Dam that boy got tall. Bobby felt himself looking up to see Sam's face.
"Dean who is this" Bobby felt himself asking. He knew exactly who the tall guy was.
"Oh, this sasquatch, Sammy remember Bobby?" Dean said to Sam.
"Yeah I remember Bobby" Sam said rolling his eyes. "It's good to see you again Bobby" he said giving a curt nod.
"You too Boy" Bobby smiled, "So what brings you boys here?"
"Just finished a case not too far from here" Dean replied "we thought we'd drop by"
Bobby lead Sam and Dean through to his desk. Sam's eyes lit up at the sight of the giant piles. Sam sent a look his way and with permission, Sam was streaming through the large piles by the desk.
"Nerd" Dean whispered under his breath as he moved towards the large stack of alcohol.
"So, have you found a new case to work on?" Bobby asked Dean.
"Nah not yet, thought we would have a couple days' break" Dean replied.
Bobby nodded. He tried not to stare at the two boys in front of him. Not boys – men. They had grown up so much since he had seen them. "How's your Daddy?"
Both Sam and Dean froze, Sam gulped and Dean's face wiped of all emotion. Bobby knew he had hit a nerve by mentioning John.
"uh, we are actually looking for him" Sam said. He looked sad and avoided Bobby's gaze.
In a small panic not wanting the boys to shut down he quickly tried to change the topic "So Sam you got into college."
When both boys stiffened. Bobby realized that he made another mistake. Sam dropped his gaze completely, once again looking at his book. "You got a case for us Bobby?" Dean asked.
Sam looked back up at Dean, his eyes slightly glassy. He sent a thank you nod to Dean. Then looked back down at the book flicking slightly faster through the pages.
"There's been some violent deaths not that far from here, think it might be a vengeful spirt." Bobby replied. "I think it might be a man by the name of Tod James. He committed suicide when he found his wife cheating on him,"
Dean nodded. "So he's going after the unfaithful ones."
"yep," Bobby replied "But I'm a little unsure because, he has only been dead for a couple months. Seems pretty strong for a new ghost."
"Sounds like we should consider it more" Sam said "I'll go to the car, I need my laptop."
"Be careful" Dean said
Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes going down to the car. The squeak of a door signaled Sam getting in the car. Finally, after a couple seconds the door slammed. "BE CAREFUL WITH HER SAMMY" Dean yelled out. His face printed in a scowl "I swear if he hurts baby" Dean growled.
"Baby?" Bobby asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh shut up"
When Sam walked back in the door. His face was scrunched up in pain "Sammy?" Dean asked.
"I'm fine just a headache." Sam said but a grimaced passed across his face. "I'm fie" he said again. Taking a seat back at Bobby's desk.
Bobby looked between Dean and Sam. Sam looked like he was in pain, and Dean looked very concerned. He felt out of the loop. As Dean, didn't take his eyes of his little brother. But after a couple minutes he gave up and started flicking though one of the books with a roll of his eyes.
Bobby felt a small smile come across his face. He hadn't seen the boys in so long. He didn't know if they talked anymore. But they seemed as close as ever. With Dean continued looks in Sam's direction. Even when they first came to the door. Dean was several inches shorter than Sam, but still he completely blocked Sam from Bobby's sight.
Sam got up to choose a book from the bookshelf. His hand tracing carefully along the spines of the book. When he stopped, Dean looked up. Sam swayed a little on his feet before he whispered barely able to hear "Dean" before his knees buckled and he collapsed.
Dean was catching him before he hit the ground. Bobby ran forwards. "GAhh" Sam moaned as he clutched tightly at his head, his eyes closed tightly. He continued to moan as Dean whispered words of comfort to him just like he did years earlier
Suddenly Sam went still his eyes flying open "Sam?" Bobby asked "you with us?" But Sam didn't – couldn't – answer. His eyes following only something he could see. Bobby saw his eyes dancing around the room. But they were unfocused and glazed. He was watching something only he could seem.
"Boy what the hell is happening" Bobby yelled.
"Sam has visions, they are connected to the yellow eyed demon. There are other physic children, please don't tell the other hunters. He is already scared enough when this happens" Dean yelled back stammering over the words "Yellow eyes causes this, we don't know how to stop it"
Bobby didn't know what to say he was scared, scared for Sam. If hunters ot wind of this Sam was screwed. He hated to even think it, but if he didn't know the youngest Winchester he would hunt him. "oh god" he whispered. Bobby wouldn't tell another soul about this. If hunters found out about this Sam would be dead.
Bobby was interrupted from his thoughts from another gasp of pain from Sam. He looked up at Bobby, his eyes finally in focus, he looked scarred "Pl'se d'nt h't m'" he gasped out before his eyes rolled back into his head and he lost consciousness.
"Bobby help me get him on the couch" Dean said. Bobby quickly snapped out of his trace pulling Sam's legs and placing him on the couch he obviously didn't fit on.
"I need a drink"
When John Winchester died Sam and Dean shattered.
And Bobby was the only one that could put them back together.
His knees are aching, his heart pounds and Bobby knows, sure as hell; he can't run like he used to.
He does anyway, even increases in speed, because that son of a bitch . . .
Bobby searches almost compulsively, cursing' and hurting' and trying not to think of anything but finding the kid and doing what needs to be done.
He searches, still cursing' and hurting' and breathing heavy, his knees complaining all the while, but the kid is gone, disappeared with his tail between his legs. Bobby knows he should get back, it's been at least five, maybe fifteen minutes and Sam had gone down fast, too fast.
Bobby knows he's got it round the wrong way. His knees are pounding, and his heart is the one doing the aching.
It takes him another couple minutes to collect himself and turn back, running again with his knees whining and hating him, and he really can't run like he used to. Finally, he gets back - and maybe it hasn't been that many minutes - to where he'd left Dean and Sam.
Only it ain't Sam when he returns; the boy's gone, and from the look of the scene, maybe it ain't Dean either. The boy's never been one for tears but Bobby supposes, even as he struggles to hold back his own, that this might just be an exception.
It's fifteen minutes - Bobby's sure of it because it can't be just five, that ain't near enough for the pain – till Bobby gets Dean organised and off the ground. Organised. Bobby supposes being technical helps in a situation like this, perhaps it's even the right word because Dean is falling apart. He wouldn't know organised if it bit him, so Bobby tries to fix that, tries to help the boy and ends up failing. No way could he have won in a situation like this, and Bobby wonders how many times he's going to think that. Situation like this. Sam's dead, situation seems so harsh and uncaring when he should be hugging Dean and holding him like John should have all those times, but instead his hand is on the boy's shoulder. Soft words, we should go Dean, I'm sorry, I'll carry him, it's okay.
The words are flat, because it ain't okay, but he is sorry, more than anything, and when Dean wakes up enough to shake his head and say, I'll carry him, Bobby feels like he's failed. Hears the boys daddy's voice in his head, you know I don't come running' for help lightly, and he wishes that Dean would come for help just this once.
Dean's offering, but his hands are still in Sam's hair hanging next to greying skin, his legs splayed awkwardly beneath him and Bobby supposes that it's a good thing the sobs have stopped, even if the tears are still there. He shakes Dean with more care than he's ever thought necessary, helps the boy untangle his fingers; helps him stand. Supposes this is what it's like to take care of a toddler, all stilted words and unco-ordination. Bobby isn't sure if he missed out on anything not having kids, Dean and Sam were the closest he ever had, and God, it's only Dean now.
Takes three tries getting Sam into Dean's arms, not that Bobby's counting. He's half tempted to clock the boy one, if only to stop him from needing to do this, and carry Sam himself. Dean would understand, after, when they'd had a few too many whisky's and he'd see that Bobby was just trying to do the right thing.
Bobby almost laughs at the thought, and what an inappropriate time – Dean probably wouldn't notice if he did – because Dean would never see it as the right thing.
So it takes three tries to get Sam in Dean's arms, and for the first time since he was fourteen, even with the long limbs hanging over, Sam looks smaller than his brother. And ain't that a trick, Bobby can't help but think.
He finds Sam sprawled over Dean's unmoving body. The is so much blood, pooled around the two boys. Sam shoulders shake and his chest heaves with the force of the sobs that wrack it.
Dean's chest is in bloody ribbons. The hellhounds chewing him up and leaving his shell of a body for Sam. His bright green eyes inexpressive and staring at something only he can see.
Sam doesn't hear him when he talks. Sam doesn't do anything, and Bobby doesn't know how to fix it this time.
Sam jumped into Lucifer's cage to save the world. Bobby guesses he should be grateful that he didn't have to see him do it. But he wishes he got to say goodbye to the kid. Dean's a mess. He won't talk and Bobby can see him running on auto pilot. Because Sam's gone.
And no-one is bringing him back this time.
Bobby tries not to think about the kids in hell. The two angry archangels venting their frustrations on him. He wonders if time passes differently in the cage than it does the rest of hell.
Sam was too young. He was still a kid. Yet he had sacrificed himself for the world. And no one but three hunters, two archangels, an angel and an innocent bystander knew.
The hunters that were out to kill him would never know that he didn't start the apocalypse on his own. Or because he wanted to. That he was used by heaven and hell. They wouldn't know what the demon blood really did to him or the hours he spent detoxing as it tortured him through hallucinations of those he loved and hated.
Sam believed that he was a freak. That he was evil, the kid didn't deserve to be Lucifer's vessel.
Dean doesn't know how Sam stood up to John for him when he was in the hospital dying after the car crash. Those memories of Sam staying be his unconscious body, or bring the Ouija board to talk to him were wiped clean when he woke up.
Dean doesn't know who long and hard Sam searched in those 6 months tracking the tricker. Or how he finally broke down and just begged for the tricker to give him is brother back at the end of all those Tuesdays.
Most the world doesn't know who Sam Winchester was or is, and 3 people in the whole world morn his loss.
Sam didn't come back from hell right.
The smirk still haunts Bobby's nightmares.
Sam lasted too long with Lucifer in his head.
When he finally broke down he fell hard. He couldn't tell what was real or not, he had lost stone number one.
Bobby didn't realize how strong Sam was until Castiel an angel of the lord, took his hallucinations and was instantly in capitated.
An angel, one of the most powerful beings in the whole universe, was taken out by something Sam had been walking around in his head with for months. All well hunting the same as always.
So, when he thought back to his father "you break everything you touch" Bobby was ready to tell him he truth.
Bobby Singer raised boys abandoned by their father. He raised heroes that saved the world and wouldn't stand down. They had face ghost, demon's angels. Even Lucifer and God himself, and had lived to tell the tale.
Sam and Dean were his boys.
And no one, could tell him otherwise.
Thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this - Reviews are love, good and bad i want to know what you think