Summary: John gave Sam up to Bobby when he was a baby. 17 years later Daddy Winchester is back for his boy, but things have changed. The infant he left with Bobby is now a stubborn lad John can't help but feel something other than fatherly affection for.

Warnings: This story contains SLASH; John/Sam to be specific. It will have mentions of Genetic Sexual Attraction and will be GRAPHIC. I will of course have warnings in chapters that contain graphic content. This story is M rated for a reason. Also some spanking is involved in later chapters.

Note: The characters will of course be slightly OOC, due mainly to the fact this story is AU. Also, I suck at characterization. I have done my best however :) Dean is 21. Sam 17 and John is around 40.

-Daddy Winchester-

Chapter ONE: Singer Salvage Yard

JW/SW

Nerves had no right to be fluttering in his gut like a swarm of riled butterflies. John wouldn't allow such an emotion to succumb him.

He gripped the steering wheel in his hands, his knuckles white. It was the first time in almost sixteen years that he would be seeing his son, Sam, again. After leaving him in the care of Bobby, John had left with Dean, intent on hunting down the demon that had crumpled his life like some used tissue.

He had phoned during those sixteen years, of course. He wasn't heartless and had made sure to check up on Bobby and Sam when the time allowed him. For the most part, as far as John had been told, everything with Bobby and Sam had gone smoothly.

Bobby had made certain that Sam was aware and understood that John had to do what was right for him. Leaving an infant in the care of a salvager was far kinder than taking the babe along to countless hotels and dragging Sam into such a twisted life was something John had never wanted to do.

Dean had been a different case. The boy had refused to be left at Bobby's. He had hugged his body close to John's leg outright and insisted he be taken with him. When John had conceded Dean felt the need to demand Sammy come too. It had been difficult explaining to a four year old just why baby Sam couldn't come with them.

The radio crackled as it sometimes did when a downpour was in the happening. John flicked his finger against the lever for the windscreen wipers and cleared the rain away. He was just minutes away from Bobby's, and the damned butterflies had tripled.

Immersed in his own head and whirling thoughts he didn't see Dean stir in his sleep and wake. It wasn't until the kid spoke that John snapped out of his daze.

"You're gonna break the wheel if you keep gripping it like that," Dean nodded to the white knuckled grip John was exerting on the innocent object, "you nervous?" he asked after a pause. John didn't see reason to deny it and so he nodded sharply, eyes glued to the water washed road.

John allowed the rumble of the engine and crackling from the radio to fill the car before he decided he could speak without throwing up butterflies. "It's been a long time since we last saw him." It was the biggest concern of John's that Sam would hold his long absence against him and condemn him a terrible father. He didn't confide this to Dean. The kid had enough on his mind as it was.

"Yeah, I know," Dean didn't sound nervous but John caught the thick swallow that bobbed down his throat and the way his eyes flicked around the car, as if to find something to take his mind off what was about to happen. "Long time since we've seen Bobby too." He added as an afterthought, a tiny grin on his lips.

John gave a dry chuckle that didn't meet his eyes and nodded. It had been only two nights prior that John had rang up Bobby and asked if he was free for a few weeks. To say the man was pleased that John and Dean were finally coming back was an understatement. If the man could do a dignified Happy Dance John was sure he would have.

About bloody time, you said you'd visit every two years or so. What happened to that, eh? Bobby's words were still very much echoing in John's head. He had felt a twinge of guilt, knowing he had indeed abandoned Sam for far too long to be considered polite.

It hadn't been intentional. Shit happened, demons seemingly sprouted form the earth and John and Dean had hunts to do left, right and center.

"You think Sam will be ok with us staying so long? He might be putout by us just rocking up and flaunting our, I don't know, us-ness…?" John had absolutely no idea what the twenty-one year old was taking about, and he squinted at the road.

"Us-ness?" he repeated gruffly. Dean nodded.

"Yeah, he's never really gotten to know us, and we all close and stuff. What if he feels left out?"

It was a thought that hadn't crossed John's mind until his son had so bluntly brought it up and slapped him in the face with it. Taking a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth John tried to quell the rising panic that Sam might be hostile against them. The more he looked at the situation the worse he realized it made him appear.

In truth he knew that Bobby had explained, as best he could, to Sam about the events that led him being left at the Salvage Yard, and John had spoken to Sam on the phone a few times when the boy had been younger. Sam had always seemed open and not in the least angered over John's decision.

Dean, as if sensing his fathers dread, sat up in his seat and ran a hand through his short hair, ruffling it slightly. "I'm sure Bobby's talked to Sam about us staying and all, it's not like Sam wouldn't know we're coming to visit." John could tell that Dean was trying to be comforting. Yet it helped very little.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," said John quietly, not fully believing his own words, "it'd be even better if I could swallow some poison to kill these damned butterflies." He growled to the rain spotted windscreen. If Dean was put out by his words he showed his disquiet minutely. A raised eyebrow and sideways glance was all John received in reply.

The radio hissed and the rain lessened somewhat as the Impala pulled into a loose gravel road. A large sign read; Singer Auto and John's heart pounded against his ribs. Mentally he freaked out, hoping that his breathing would level out before he passed out. Physically he was on autopilot, steering the car neatly up the drive.

This was it. This was the moment he met his baby Sam.

JW/SW

"John," Bobby exclaimed as he rushed past a burnt-out wreck that had once been a car, John smiled grimly in the way only he could and clasped hands with the older man, "c'here," Bobby muttered before pulling him into a rough, quick but welcoming hug. "Good to see you." He added as he pulled away.

"You too, Bobby." Replied John, he allowed Dean to brush past him and give the old man a quick, one armed hug. "Keeping well?" he questioned, looking over Bobby's dirtied clothes, he'd obviously been working. Whether on a car or a case John wasn't certain. Bobby still hunted; in fact he was an imperative man when it came to helping out Hunters.

Bobby shrugged his shoulders and sighed, "Busier than a one-eyed cat watching two rat holes. Have been getting a few Hunters around town, all looking into some disturbances that started last month," John followed Bobby as he turned and lumbered up to the doorstep. "Had one hell of a time getting Sam to stay out of it, I tell ya."

John almost smiled at that. He had known that Sam wouldn't be involved in hunting, Bobby had promised to keep him out of the actual hunts anyway, the fact that Sam knew of it and was interested in it gave reason why he would nag Bobby to find out more and to help. A true Winchester through and through it seemed.

"Bit of a hassle?" John asked empathically, making sure Dean was following them and not exploring the large expanse of cars. The first time Dean had seen the cars in Bobby's yard he had spent hours amongst them, playing imaginary games as only a child could. The young man was tagging along, looking everywhere, John though perhaps he was keeping an eye out for Sam.

Bobby chuckled in reply, "damn kid is as stubborn as a mule. Never been on a hunt in his life, but he sure has saved my arse plenty of times mind you," he swiveled his head to face John slightly, continuing through the musty, old house even as he spoke, "quick mind, your Sam," John did smile at that.

He would have felt pride, but he knew where the smarts came from and it wasn't him. "Just like, Mary." He said. Bobby flashed him a sad little smile.

They reached the living room and Bobby disappeared for a moment before returning with three bottles of beer. Dean was quick in opening his bottle with a hiss of the cap. John resisted rolling his eyes.

"It's good to see you again, boy," Bobby said to Dean, the young man smiled and swallowed a large mouthful of beer. "You've grown," John looked over at Dean, sure enough the kid had gotten taller and filled out, and he supposed by being with him most of the time he hadn't noticed the change. Would Sam have change dramatically too?

The last time he'd seen Sam was when the boy was no bigger than his forearm, bundled in a blanket and gurgling nonsense. He'd obviously have grown since then…and stopped gurgling nonsense he hoped.

What colour hair would he have? Both he and Dean had darkish hair, would Sam have hair like Mary? Would he be tall? Short? There were so many details that John didn't know about his youngest.

It was almost scary to have to find out.

Standing awkwardly in the room, unopened beer in hand, John made an effort to pay attention to Bobby and Dean as they rambled back and forth, catching up and swapping colourful stories.

It was difficult to swallow down the dry lump that climbed his throat. The thought that he was in the same house as Sam made him want to flee. He didn't, however. Reminding himself he'd faced down scarier sons-of-bitches than his own son.

He was about to interrupt the idle conversation that was centered on a Wendigo when he caught sound of the front door opening. It appeared he wasn't the only one, for Dean stopped midsentence and turned around. Bobby just watched both men blankly.

This is it,

This is it,

John wanted to jam his fingers into his ears to dull the scream of his thoughts. He was as ready as he ever could be, and held his ground, listening to the slow footsteps that approached the living room.

A shadow was cast in the doorway before Sam entered, and then he was there. Right in front of them, staring just as wide eyed at them as they were staring at him. His chestnut coloured hair was messy and fell about his flushed cheeks and into his eyes. He was short, shorter than John had imagined. He was all limbs and sharp angles, just like most teenaged boys.

He was wearing a pair of too-large jeans and a plain band t-shirt. He looked like a Winchester. A small, uncertain, innocent version of what he and Dean were. His baby Sam was, in John's opinion, differently the same.

Bobby cleared his throat after the silence and staring stretched on to become uncomfortable, immediately all eyes were on him. "I'll leave you three to get acquainted, I think." John wanted to yell at Bobby to stay, if only so he wasn't the only adult left in the room. He squashed down the desire and nodded as Bobby left, not before sending a meaningful glance at Sam.

Silence leaked back around them, smothering them like a flood might. Then Sam shifted and all eyes went to him. The teen raised his eyebrows more out of unease then anything else. John noticed his wide eyes and realized that if any of them were to feel comfortable enough to start a conversation someone would have to be brave enough to break the silence.

That someone was indisputably himself.

Not wanting to look like an idiot John breathed down the desire to say a tentative hi. He wasn't some school girl on her first day of school. He was a father and right now his son's needed him to be one and stand up tall.

"Sam," he finally settled on saying. His voice was gruffer than he had intended. Dean looked to him as did Sam. John was well aware his swallow could clearly be heard. "It's good to finally meet you, son." And it was. As awkward and nerve-racking as the situation might be, he was happy to finally be able to greet his youngest after so long a time.

It was the hesitant little smile that quirked Sam's lips that had John interested, it was almost a shy gesture, perhaps Sam was shy. It certainly fit with his hunched shoulders and bowed neck. The boy's postured screamed submissiveness.

"Hullo," the boy said after a moment.

John thought he might not speak again, and was about to open his mouth and hope words came to him in time, when Sam's soft voice interrupted him. "Bobby said you'd be here today, I just didn't expect so soon."

John didn't need to force the smile that turned his lips up. It came naturally. "Weather held out until the home stretch. Thought we'd be caught in a flood." He answered more calmly.

It was Dean's turn to speak up and he did. "Good to see you, Sammy; nice t-shirt," he added with a pointed look at the AC/DC print Sam was wearing. Sam beamed and if it was possible the butterflies in John's gut grew bigger and rougher. He put it down to seeing his son happy, and to the relief of knowing Sam hadn't held anything against them for leaving.

"It's not mine, Bobby leant it to me." Sam felt the need to say. Dean just gave a one armed shrug, grinning at his little brother. It was obvious to anyone with sight that Dean was over the moon at having his baby brother close again. Like John, Dean had spoken to Sam over the phone on numerous occasions. The boy's got on well enough.

A movement caught the three Winchesters attention and Bobby entered the room, "alright then?" he queried, "we had our soap-opera reunion? Tears all dried?" Dean snorted laughter and John relaxed his shoulders, not realizing he'd been so tense and on edge.

Now that Bobby was back Sam looked inherently more comfortable. A flare of jealously bubbled up inside John's chest. His rational side knew it was only natural that Sam trusted Bobby more after spending sixteen years with the man. The small green-with-envy part of him wanted to be held higher in Sam's opinion than Bobby.

"Right then," Bobby clapped his hands together, "who wants Chinese?"

Dean was first to jump at the promise of food. John noted Sam just nodded his reply. Definitely shy then, he pondered. The next few weeks would be interesting, if not somewhat uneasy. He'd have time enough to get to know Sam better, and Dean would relish the chance to get his hands gritty working on some cars.

JW/SW

The burn of tepid whiskey flushed down his throat, making him gasp and bang down the glass onto the tabletop. Bobby grinned at him from the other side of the desk. John just grimaced, tasting the old drink on his tongue.

"It's good to have you helping out, John. Hell knows this case has got me stumped." Said Bobby, he riffled through a large book, skipping through the pages like he knew what he was looking for. In truth, neither of them knew what they were up against. Seven missing persons and no evidence to what it could be.

Picking up a slim leather book, John opened it, without beginning to read he replied, "I've never seen a case like this one. No evidence of supernatural doings and yet half the town is over run with Hunters, looking for something they have no evidence on." he flicked a glance up at the older man, Bobby's eyes were distant, whether from the copious amounts of alcohol they had consumed or from thought, John wasn't certain.

"I'd say it was nothing; but something's up," Bobby's eyes cleared and he looked at John, "I've been a Hunter for a long time, and I can feel it in my bones. Something's coming." John didn't let the alarm show on his face; he raised his brows slightly and tilted his head to the side, asking silently for Bobby to elaborate.

The man obliged, "we've had ten new Hunter's blow into town this week," John watched as he took a large swill of whiskey from the bottle, "ten Hunters don't just show up for nothin' do they?" John shook his head. It was strange that so many Hunters were gravitating to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, especially with no evidence it was the supernatural causing the disappearances.

"What do you think it means?" he asked when it became apparent Bobby wasn't going to continue speaking.

"Hell if I know," he exclaimed, opening another book. "But like I said, can't be good."

John dipped his head to look at the book he was reading, old symbols covered the page. A line formed between his eyebrows as he frowned. "The trouble with not knowing what we're up against means that every book might be helpful, we'll be here all night looking for a clue."

Bobby passed over the bottle of whiskey, "I hear ya. Not much else we can do, no leads to follow, no witnesses to talk to. It's read 'til out eyes fall out or do nothin'." The old man was right. Taking a long draught of the liquid John put his head down and got to work. If it was one thing all Hunter's had, it was patience, at least a trickle of patience to see them through the annoying step of investigating.

It was some minutes later when the sound of footsteps broke the humdrum of turning pages, sighs and the splash of whiskey against glass. John looked up to find a sleep ruffled, disgruntled Sam in the doorway. The boy just stood there, staring at both Bobby and himself, his hair was a nest of brown and indents from his pillow lined one cheek. John ducked his head to hide the smile that insisted it stretch his lips.

Bobby sat up straighter in his seat, "You alright, Sam?" he asked. Sam shrugged and then moved fully into the room. His baggy pyjama pants were crumpled. John noted absently the lack of a t-shirt, Sam's chest and belly were on display. For a kid who didn't hunt he was reasonably fit, with light definition to his abdomen. John turned away, wondering why he had indeed been noticing his son's body in such a way.

Before he could dwell too long on the flutter in his stomach Sam spoke.

"It's nothing much, just, well," he paused and sent John a small smile as if he were about to share a secret, "Dean snores." He said. John gave a huff of laughter. His eldest had a right habit of snoring. He'd shared enough hotel rooms with him to know just how off-putting it could get. While not loud, it was certainly disruptive. Dean had been told to bunk with Sam for the time they stayed at Bobby's, John wondered if that arrangement was going to work out if Dean kept up his snoring.

"Turn him on his side, it helps." John said and Bobby nodded along with the idea, Sam flashed him a shy smile in thanks, "and if that doesn't fix it, a pillow should." John winked at Sam. It was a second before Sam caught on to the meaning of his words and once he did he chuckled. It was the first time John had heard Sam laugh. It was quiet and breathy, and it made John smile wider for some reason.

Sam made to leave before pausing at the doorway, "I could help you if you needed it; you've been up all night." John looked to his watch. Sure enough it was nearing the early hours of the morning. Remembering what Bobby had said about Sam being good at research he wondered if Sam pulled all nighters with Bobby sometimes.

"Nah, we've got it covered. You go on and get some rest; you've got school in the morning." Bobby gestured for Sam to head on to bed, and obligingly the boy did. John huffed a sigh and went back to his book. He doubted they'd be getting any rest tonight.

JW/SW

"There's something awesome about a yard full of cars," Dean murmured through his mouthful of eggs. John noticed absently the flecks that were spat onto the tabletop. He would have chided Dean for his manners but Bobby was doing the same thing. "Hey, Bobby, can I have a look 'round later? Gotta busy myself somehow."

Bobby swallowed his own mouthful, "if it'll keep you out of trouble." He reasoned. Dean grinned and John was reminded just how much the boy took after himself. He'd have been ecstatic to explore a yard swamped with cars when he was younger.

Sam was sitting opposite John, his fork mashing up his eggs. He hadn't eaten much, preferring to play with his food. "Not hungry?" questioned John and Sam startled in his chair. He bit his lip and flushed when he realised he'd been drifting in his thoughts.

"Not really," he deadpanned. Bobby nudged him in the ribs lightly. "Not hungry, Bobby," Sam grumbled again and the old man sighed.

John flashed Bobby a concerned look. The man just shrugged, a promise to speak later held in his eyes. Letting the matter drop John started on his own plate of eggs and bacon, specially made by Bobby. Surprisingly it wasn't half bad.

The shrill call of a phone made all four men jump in their seats and then pretend they had been getting up to answer it. Bobby waved them to sit down and finish their breakfast and went to answer the phone. Not a minute later he arrived back in the room.

"Another missing person," he said directly to John. Dean perked up, interested in talk of a hunt. "Rufus said there's a witness, and she's sharing some odd details. Looks like this might be a break we need." John grinned, nodding as he did so.

He was strictly in town to see his son and catch up, but it wasn't outlandish to do a hunt on the side, and one so interesting had him wanting to find out what could be causing such clean disappearances.

Note: Obviously the slash content isn't going to be served straight up. I enjoy letting the attraction grow, and the characters have yet to even notice their feelings for one another. Next chapter will be from Sam's POV. Bobby and Dean will have their perspectives in later chapters :)