A brief 'All Hell Breaks Loose II' tag - a conversation between Sam and Bobby because I think Bobby cares about both those boys... If you haven't seen the season 2 finale, don't read this because there are definite spoilers!

Dead Men Walking

Bobby Singer wasn't surprised to find a Winchester sitting at his kitchen table and staring forlornly into a cold cup of coffee at 2 am. What he was surprised about though was that it was Sam.

Although, given the copious amount of whiskey the elder Winchester had consumed in his post-YED demise celebration Bobby realized he shouldn't' have been…

The older hunter stood in the doorway and watched the younger man for a few moments, not quite convinced that Sam didn't know he was there. However, the kid never said anything and that afforded Bobby an opportunity to appraise him uninterrupted.

The first thing he noticed was that the youngster was in pain. He could tell by the way in which Sam's hand, the one resting on the edge of the table, tightened and curled almost spasmodically. And by the tight little inhales and exhales Sam made as he breathed, the rhythm controlled and deliberate. It reminded Bobby of a bitch breathing through a pup whelping, and he sighed.

Guess you didn't come back from the dead after getting a hole in your back without some sort of discomfort…

Oh well, pain relief was one thing the wise old hunter could do.

Soundlessly, he continued on into the kitchen, crossed to the cupboard and opened it. He felt Sam's eyes on his back.

They burned with pain and he shivered under the intensity.

His hand lingered between codeine and morphine but decided on the codeine. He knew 'morphine Sam' and didn't think it would be fair to put either of them through that tonight. Bobby was terrified about what might spill, unguarded, from the young warrior's mouth… There were just too many hurts there to deal with at 2 in the morning.

Wordlessly, he tapped out two pills and then offered them to Sam. The kid stared blankly at him for a moment and Bobby was struck by the raw emotion he saw in those soulful hazel eyes. The youngest Winchester felt too much for a hunter, an open heart and hopeful spirit making him too easily vulnerable, and to see it now, laid so bare and coupled with a wearying weight made Bobby ache for them all.

Finally, and with a seemingly great effort, Sam took the pills and dry swallowed them, taking a drink of cold coffee only as an afterthought.

"Thanks," the softly spoken word broke the silence. Sam held Bobby's gaze a moment longer and then sighed and turned his attention downwards. Apparently Bobby's kitchen table was absolutely fascinating at this time of night…

"Your back?" the older man offered after a few moments; conversation preferable to the suffocating silence, although he had no idea what else to say.

Under all his gruff and grout, Bobby truly cared; feeling an inexplicable responsibility for John's two youngsters and it pained him to see the lengths to which they had been driven.

Dead men walking… the two of them…

"Yeah," the answer was breathed out. Sam shifted slightly in the seat.

Bobby reached back into his cupboard and pulled out a flask. He sat down across from Sam and guzzled down a 'night cap'. Normally he'd offer the kid a swig – not that the boy ever accepted, that wasn't the point – but not tonight. Not with codeine.

"Your brother asleep?" he asked needlessly. Roof raising snores answered the question. And so did Sam.

"Yeah," Sam repeated as a fond smile ghosted briefly over his pale face. "Like a baby…" A particularly loud snore punctuated his statement and Sam amended, a sheepish blush coloring his cheeks. "A loud, drunken baby."

Bobby snorted softly and then scrubbed his face with his hand, at a loss what else to say. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam's shoulders slump a little more as the codeine started to work and exhaustion threatened to press him to the floor. The kid should be in bed. They both should be.

"I know about the deal," the older man just suddenly blurted out, surprising himself as much as his young guest. He hadn't meant to say anything. It just came out.

"Oh." Okay so Sam's response was rather underwhelming. He had recovered from the shock of the statement more quickly than Bobby had though and Bobby was the one who'd said it. But then the young man stretched out his long legs under the table and leaned back in the chair, his eyes closed briefly as he snorted softly and shook his head. "I should have figured as much – after all you were the one who sewed me back together… Great work by the way." The smile Sam offered didn't quite meet his eyes.

Bobby winced. Ouch. "Uh. Yeah." The hunter scratched awkwardly at an itch behind his ear. Talk about awkward. He promised Dean not to say anything to Sam, but now that Sam knew that he knew and hadn't said anything to him – Jesus. Just thinking about it was giving him a headache. Now he needed pain killers. "You know one of these days, you boys are going to be the death of me," he growled, his first line of defense – orneriness – kicking in.

An unreadable look passed across Sam's face and Bobby grimaced at his choice of words. God. He needed another drink.

Grabbing the flask, Bobby took a long swig, extremely conscious of how Sam was watching his every move. Shit, was he wearing something that belonged to the kid or something?

"You blame me," Sam suddenly spit out, startling the hunter who almost coughed as he swallowed. What the f-? "For Dean making the deal..." He lowered his voice to a mere whisper. "I blame me."

Incredulous, Bobby just stared, mindful of the dribble of whisky on his chin but too stunned to wipe it off. Where the hell did Sam get his ideas? And then he glanced away briefly. Okay, maybe there was some small shred of truth there. But not really. Bobby didn't really blame Sam. It wasn't like Sam had tried to die or anything. It just sucked that he meant so much to his brother…

And that Dean meant so much to him.

Bobby already knew that if Sam couldn't save Dean, it would kill them both. The guilt of that failure would crush whatever was left of Sam after the deal was paid in full. After Dean was dead.

"It's okay though. I get it. I do. I shouldn't be here. I was dead. And what is it that Dean always says? Oh yeah – what's dead should stay dead -"

"Just not you," Bobby corrected finally prodded past his shock by the self-recrimination he heard in Sam's voice.

"Yeah." Sam snorted bitterly. "Lucky me."

"No actually," the older hunter countered, "Lucky us."

The youngest Winchester just shook his head, not getting it. Bobby shrugged, "If Dean hadn't done what he did, we'd have never known about Jake… and those gates of hell would have been a whole lot harder to close… That boy sold his soul to save us all."

Sam just stared at him but slowly, as he seemed to consider what Bobby said, his shoulders just dropped; he deflated. When he finally spoke again, his eyes shone brightly and his breath hitched – the older man felt something tighten in his own chest. "It wasn't worth it, Bobby… Not to me." He sniffed and glanced back down at Bobby's interesting table again. "I can't lose him too… I just… can't…"

A single tear baptized Sam's grief.

"Then don't," Bobby said, his voice more rough than usual. He held out the almost empty flask. Damn the codeine. The kid hesitated only a moment, than took the offering and emptied the whiskey down his throat. He coughed and then wiped his mouth before passing the flask back. "You got a year, Sam," Bobby reminded the youngster, "and you're not alone… We'll figure this out somehow…"

"And if we don't?"

In place of the confident young hunter that John Winchester raised, Bobby only saw a scared young man; Dean's little brother, and when the hunter finally answered, he surprised himself with the strength of his own conviction. "We will."

Bobby saw the hint of a small smile as Sam gave a slight nod of his head in conciliation.

"Good," the older hunter grunted and then pushed himself away from the table to stand, "Now what's say we call it a night? Saving your brother's ass is going to require some shuteye."

Sam actually flashed a true smile this time, double dimple action, if only for a brief moment but for now Bobby would take what he could get. "And it is such a big ass to save…" The kid rose too; his stiff and somewhat guarded movement the only thing attesting to his fatal injury now. Bobby hoped it wouldn't be permanent.

"You sound like your brother," the hunter grumbled, after all he had an image to uphold. There was no heat in his words though.

It earned him a slight laugh and a breathy, "Yeah I guess I do." And then Bobby turned around and blocked Sam's exit from the kitchen. He had one more thing to say:

"Look Sam, I might not agree with what Dean did but, just so you know… it is damn good to have you back again." And then he turned and walked out of the kitchen before the kid could say anything else.

Now he could finally get some sleep.

The End