A/N This story is totally lilykep's fault. She encouraged me to write it in the first place, helped me to smoothen the edges and then convinced me to publish it. So here it is, thanks gal.

Knowing and Seeing

Bobby ended the phone call and took a deep breath. That was it. No turning back now. Even if he wanted to back off, and a huge part of him wanted to do just that, it was too late. It had taken him two full days to set up the room, one for throwing out the old stuff and one for getting the new stuff in, and now it was too late to change his mind. They would be there in about an hour.

"Hope they don't just bolt." Bobby muttered and busied himself with chopping onions. Maybe he could get a good hot meal into them before the big bang. And it would be a big bang, he had no doubt about that.

Showing had worked with the Winchesters, any Winchester, always better than telling. Stubborn asses, all of them, who shut their mouths tight as if you were about to pull their teeth. As if talking hurt. So showing it was. Bobby let out a sigh.

When about an hour later the familiar growling of the Impala came down the driveway, Bobby adjusted his cap, took a deep breath, he was doing that a lot lately, and put his best poker face on. Then he opened the door.

"Hey, Bobby." Sam greeted him and unfolded himself out of the passenger seat. He moved stiffly and with his right arm he was protecting his ribs. On the other side of the car Dean got out and flashed Bobby a warm smile. Or as much of a smile he could manage with half of his face pretending to be burger meat. One eye was swollen shut but the other one was bright and twinkled with mischief.

"You both look like crap." Bobby shook his head but silently he thought that Dean hadn't looked that carefree since John's death a few month back.

"And you're getting old." Dean didn't miss a beat and went around the car to get their bags. He didn't let Sam carry any of them and Sam didn't really insisted on it so he must be hurting pretty badly.

Figures, Bobby sighed. They're big boys now. Only remembering their Uncle Bobby when they need a place to hole up for a while.

Not that he minded, he just wished they would swing by more often and not only when they were half dead, that was.

"Dinner's ready." Bobby led the way inside. Neither of the boys seemed to be in immediate danger just battered and sore and the best care he could provide them was a good meal and some shuteye.

Moving like an old man Sam followed Bobby to the kitchen. His movements became instantly lighter when he caught the smell coming out of pot on the stove.

"Is that ...?" He sniffed and his face lit up. "That's your special stew, isn't it?"

"Thought you could use something warm." Bobby shrugged and hoped his cap and beard hit most of his emotions.

"I'll just bring our stuff upstairs" Dean announced already halfway up the stairs and Bobby couldn't think of anything to stop him. "And then you've to tell us why the special treat with the stew. Nobody is dying here, right?"

"I'm just trying to be nice, boy." Bobby shouted after him and stirred the stew so he didn't have to look Sam in the eye. In his head he counted the seconds. One for Dean to finish the stairs, two and three for him to reach the room the boys had used since they had been kids. Four to open the door. Five to ten to stare.

It took him another thirty seconds to make it back to the kitchen. Time enough for Bobby to hand Sam three plates, spoons and the basket with bread. The steaming pot of stew sat in the middle of the table when Dean reappeared in the door.

"Ehm, Bobby?"

Bobby filled the plates and didn't look at Dean. But he could feel the younger man behind him shifting from one foot to the other, searching for words.

"Sit, before it gets cold." He sat a plate in front of Sam who looked confused at his brother and then at Bobby.

"There is a bed in our room." Dean finally managed to say.

"It's for sleeping." Bobby filled the last plate and mentioned Dean to sit down already. Despite his fear that this would go south in a second and the brothers would start running Bobby couldn't deny his amusement. The look on Dean's face, oh boy.

"It's one bed." Dean pointed out and now Sam made a really good impression of a deer in the headlights.

"It's a big bed." Bobby shrugged. And it really was. Big and comfortable, with fresh sheets and fluffy pillows, Bobby never had paid more for a piece of furniture in his life and it was worth every cent.

"It's still one bed." Dean reminded him holding up a finger to make his point. "Two people, two beds." He gestured between himself and Sam who hadn't said a word yet. But he made a strangled noise.

"Would you sit down already?" Bobby used his best John Winchester voice and with that Dean flopped down on the chair. "You two haven't used the second bed since you were teenagers."

"What?" Sam brought the word out as if it inflicted physical pain on him. It probably did.

"I'm sick of waking up from one of your heavy asses falling out of bed. So I figured we could end the charade and get you two a real bed."

The color of their faces turned from shocked pale to embarrassed red and Bobby held a hand up to calm them down. "I never heard anything else and I don't want to hear anything else."

Adjusting his cap again he breathed in relief. That went better than he'd expected. Probably they were just too shocked to run yet but it was a start.

"The stew is getting cold." Bobby took a spoonful and focused on his plate.

"You know?" Sam finally managed actual words.

"How long?" Dean asked at the same time staring at Bobby as if he pondered on bringing out the holy water.

"Did you even listen to me?" Bobby shook his head in amusement. "I know you haven't used the second bed since you were teenagers?" He slowly repeated his words and then put another spoon full of stew in his mouth. "And just in case you two idjits haven't figured it out yourselves, it's okay."

They ate in silence which was uncomfortable at first but after a few minutes the Winchesters relaxed slightly. Or the pain and exhaustion just took their toll on them.

After dinner Dean offered Sam the first shower. An offer Sam took without arguing. He simply made his way upstairs, bent to the side and with support from the banister.

"He okay?" Bobby asked as soon as Sam was out of earshot.

"Some bruised rips." Dean let water in the sink but his eyes were on the ceiling in the direction of the bathroom door that creaked shut in that moment. "Maybe a cracked one. Nothing serious."

"You?" Bobby avoided to study Dean's abused face.

"You know me." Dean flashed him his blinding smile or at least half of it. "I can take a few hits."

Upstairs the shower started.

"Did Dad know?"

"Hell, no." Bobby took the first plate from Dean and toweled it. "Why do you think I waited to pull this stunt until … now." He barely avoided hitting the other elephant in the room and silently cursed at himself.

They finished the dishes and then Dean took his shower. When he came out of the bathroom Bobby was already there providing them with painkillers and ice-packs.

Sam lay in the bed, so close to the edge that he was in real danger of falling out and judging by the look on Dean's face he intended to do the same on the other side of the bed.

Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Take this." He handed Dean an ice-pack for his face. "And Sam? Scoot over before you fall out. Your ribs wouldn't like it and like I said, I'm sick of your heavy asses falling out of the bed."

Bobby didn't wait till they came out of their stupor. With a grumbled "Night." he closed the door.

tbc