So this story came from a couple of places. I've been wanting to do a flashback fic for a while now. Then one of my friends on tumblr sent out a prompt where she wanted stories with children, anyone 0-18. So that was the first part of the prompt. The second part was we needed to include the boys plus one other Supernatural side character, except Castiel. Then we were each given one extra word: mine was puppy. Then I was re-watching the early seasons of Supernatural and this line of Bobby's caught my attention, "He's been running into burning buildings since he was twelve, Dean."
As Dean drove toward Bobby's, he glanced from the road to look in the review mirror to check on Sam. He smiled at his brother. It was weird to have Sam in the backseat instead of in his usual place in the passenger seat. But this was an unusual situation.
"Do you think Bobby will like this? He's not going to be mad?" Sam's eyes were wide with concern. Dean could see his brother was really worried about how Bobby was going to react to the brothers' surprise.
"No way, Sam. Bobby could never be upset with a present like this. This is a good thing," Dean was desperate to reassure his little brother. Especially with all the craziness they had been through lately. They were going to their mentor's house to recover from this latest hunt. That zombie chick had done a number on Sam's arm. And their seeing Mom's grave had done a number on Dean's emotions. Both brothers needed a place to rest and recover. Which is why they were currently heading to Bobby's. They needed someplace safe and comfortable to pull themselves together.
As a thank you for once again letting them crash and for allowing them to always barge in when needed, they were bringing a gift with them. A gift the older Winchester knew Bobby would appreciate, but he knew his brother was nervous. They were sort of springing this on Bobby. But wasn't that the whole point of a surprise?
"You're sure?" Sam's tentative voice rose from the backseat. "I mean this is kind of sudden."
Dean hated it when his brother was hopped on painkillers. It made him even more emotional than usual. Sam was pretty sensitive normally, but painkillers always ramped up his touchy-feely side to 1,000. "Don't worry about, Sammy," he comforted, meeting Sam's eyes in the rearview mirror. Bobby's going to be ecstatic. I'm sure he'll love it. Especially, since you picked it out."
"Okay, if you're sure." Sam said through a yawn.
"Positive Sammy." Dean glanced up once more. Sam's eyes were rimmed with dark circles, his arm was in cased in plaster, and his body looked beat. "We got a while before we get to Bobby's. You look exhausted. Why don't you take a nap?"
Sam yawned again. Dean expected a protest, but instead of an "I'm not tired," he saw his brother's eyes drift close as he leaned his head against the back of the seat. Without as much as a word Sam was asleep his good arm wrapped around Bobby's present.
The older Winchester smiled remembering another time with a similar surprise, but where the roles were reversed.
"We there yet?" Sam whispered, shaking off his brother's hand, his voice groggy with sleep. Sam had just reached his teenage years and was going through a particular state of rebellion where he refused to ask his father any question that could be answered by his big brother.
"Not yet, Sammy, but soon," Dean assured knowing his brother and his father couldn't handle being in the car together much longer. If they were one of them was going to blow a fuse, Sam for finally having to ask his dad a question, or Dad for being ignored.
The trip had been relatively peaceful, only because the youngest Winchester had been asleep most of the car ride so far. They were all exhausted from the hunt the previous evening, and each of them was nursing a variety of minor injuries from a particularly nasty spirit. Dean and John both had a number of minor scratches and burns. Sam's burns were a tad more severe, because while Dean and John had been battling the angry spirit of a previous homeowner. Sam had run back and forth into the building until every member of the large family currently inhabiting the house, ten people in all, were out of the house and safe distance away. The youngest Winchester was also nursing a set of slightly scrambled brains from when the spirit had thrown him into a nearby tree when he had raced into the woods next to the property to help Dean and John finish the job.
"Dean…" Sam whined still whispering. The older brother realized Sam was whispering not only to keep their dad from hearing the conversation but also probably to keep the pounding in his head to manageable level. And this was the exact reason they were currently heading to Bobby's instead of holing up in a random motel room.
Bobby had been in the hunting business longer than John Winchester. Long enough to have developed a network of hunters and some civilians who knew about hunting life who had extra skill sets not common to the average hunter. People like a doctor who could tell them if Sam had a concussion, who could treat all three Winchesters burns, and check to make sure the throbbing in Dean's wrist was just a sprain and not a break.
The older Winchester resisted the urge to tell Sam to quit with the games and speak up. But his little brother was injured so Dean kept his comments to himself and just rolled his eyes instead. "I don't know how far away we are. Why don't you just go back to sleep, and I'll wake you when we get there or a little before?"
"'Cause I'm not tired, Dean," Sam said grumpily even as his head reached up to rub his eyes.
"Sure you're not," Dean mumbled so Sam couldn't hear. Sam wasn't even paying attention anymore. His eyes had partially drifted shut again as he leaned his head against the window, alternately dozing and watching the scenery out the window. "Whatcha thinking about little brother?"
"Nothing."
"Come on, Sammy. I can hear the gears turning in your head from across the car," Dean prodded. If Sam didn't want to sleep then he was going to talk.
"I was just wondering what Bobby's surprise is."
"How do you know about that?"
Sam voice got lower and he scooted across the seat as far as his seatbelt would allow. Little geek always following the rules even if there was no one who was going to yell at him for breaking them. "I heard Dad talking to Bobby on the motel phone when you went to get food. I was in the bathroom so he thought I couldn't hear." Sam quickly focused back on his original question, not giving Dean anytime to ask why his little brother had been eavesdropping. "So what do you think it is? Bobby was talking loud enough that I could hear his side of the conversation too. He said he had a surprise. And that we would like it. What do you think it is? Books?"
Dean made a disgusted face, "Only you would think of books as a present geek-boy. Nah, if it's something we'll both like it's definitely not books. What other guesses you got?"
"Could be new knives."
"Yeah but Dad just got us new knives not that long ago. So I'm guessing not. Anything else?"
"Nothing I can think of unless he got us clothes or school supplies."
"Again little brother, you have a weird sense of what constitutes a good surprise. Stuff you need doesn't count either."
"Yes it does," Sam pouted looking down at his hand-me-down shirt and the ratted backpack between his feet, secretly hoping Bobby's surprise did have something to do with new clothes or stuff for school.
"Aww come on, Sammy, don't be a Debbie Downer. I can't think of anything else either. But it's Bobby, so I'm sure whatever it is, it's going to be awesome. And he knows us pretty well, so if he says we're going to like it, I'm sure we are."
"I can't wait," Sam said scooting back across the seat to lean his head on the window. Dean watched until his brother's eyes once again drifted shut. And he continued Sam's train of thought, what could Bobby's surprise possibly be? Something both Dean and Sam would enjoy? That would eliminate books (Sam) and weapons (Dean). Bobby was always focused on letting them be kids. Dean remembered the baseball Bobby had given him when he was ten. In just over two hours they would know. The older brother rubbed a hand across his sore wrist, set the time on his watch, and joined his brother in dreamland for a time.
While Dean had only been intending to sleep for approximately half an hour, he woke to the sound of his father's voice announcing they were at Bobby's. Knowing his father attempting to wake his brother, especially in Sam's current state of extra bad mood from not feeling well would cause the youngest Winchester to explode, Dean leaned across the seat and once again shook Sam's arm to wake him.
"Dean, le'mealone," Sam mumbled incoherently.
"No can do, little brother," Dean said shaking Sam's shoulder again. "We're here."
Sam's eyes instantly popped open as if they had springs attached. "We're here? As in already at Bobby's? That was fast. I wonder what Bobby's surprise is?" Sam was still whispering, trying to keep their father out of the conversation.
And peaceful, Dean thought. I didn't have to listen to you and Dad argue, because you were asleep. "Yeah, it was pretty fast." Dean looked up, his eyes meeting his father's in the rearview mirror, silently begging John to not say anything about the drive or Sam's mysterious need to whisper.
"Get the gear. Let's go." John got out of the car and headed back toward the trunk.
"Yes, sir," Dean said opening his door and nudging Sam to do the same.
By the time the brothers gathered their gear and headed toward the house, Bobby was waiting on the porch. "You Idjits need anything?" he asked. His words were directed at John, but Bobby made eye contact with the boys to let them know they were included too.
"No we're fine, Bobby. Well, mostly," John amended and Dean nodded with confirmation. "Just need a once over from your doctor friend if you don't mind."
"He's already on his way." Looking at the exhausted Winchesters, he decided his surprise could wait until tomorrow. After the Winchesters, especially those two boys, had been patched up, cleaned up, fed, and rested up.
The brothers followed John into the house and directly up the stairs. Bobby watched them head up toward the bedrooms. He wanted nothing more than to wrap those boys up in blankets and feed them until they were ready to burst. Then he wanted to give them the surprise that was currently stashed in his basement. With as much as needed to be done this morning the surprise would have to wait until later. It would have to wait until have the small family was checked over by a doctor.
As they filed past him, Bobby catalogued the injuries he would have to inform the doctor of when he arrived. John had a few bruises and scrapes and his skin had a light red tint to it like he'd been standing too close to the stove, but all in all he looked mostly all right. Dean was carrying his duffle with one hand almost dragging it on the floor instead of hanging it over his shoulder. The hand not holding his duffle was tucked against his chest and it was also tinted red. He was using his shoulder to guide his brother toward the bedroom. From the way Sam looked and moved, he needed the guidance. His eyes were foggy with sleep and something else as well. His eyes were dazed and glassy as if he had been hit in the head. The skin of his arms was bright red and shiny. It appeared as if it all the Winchesters had been burned, and Sam had gotten the worst of it. Which wasn't surprising considering the entire family smelled of smoke, singed hair, and burnt flesh.
Bobby observed for a few more moments as the boys disappeared in the bedroom and John to the bathroom. He moved the kitchen to wait for the doctor's arrival and listened to the shower start. Once his friend had assessed the Winchesters, Bobby would determine if there was time for the surprise. As the shower continued to run, Bobby assumed it would take a while to get the smell out of clothing and hair and skin, there was a knock on the door.
The salvage owner opened the door to see his friend standing on his porch medical bag in tow. "How you doing Jeremiah?"
"Be doing better if you didn't call me at four in the morning and expect me to make house calls," the doctor grumbled.
"You do owe me a favor," Bobby reminded
"You're never going to let that go are you?" The doctor rolled his eyes.
"I did save your life," Bobby said opening the door furthered and gesturing for his friend to enter.
"Yeah, yeah. Where's the patient?" the doctor said waving away Bobby's attempt at small talk.
The salvage owner shifted uncomfortably. "Actually there are three."
"Three? This time you're going to owe me, Singer."
Bobby led the way upstairs, pausing when he heard the shower stop. "Before we get up there, there's a couple things you should know. Why I asked you here…"
"I assumed it was another hunter." The doctor shrugged off Bobby's concern. He'd worked with the salvage owner before and most of the time Bobby called him to make house calls when a hunter was too injured or too wary to go to the hospital.
Bobby smiled thinking of the three Winchesters upstairs. "Well…"
"Bobby what's wrong? I've worked in an ER. There's not a whole lot I haven't seen. What's got your panties in such a twist?" the doctor wanted to know what had his friend so worked up before they got upstairs.
Bobby's smile turned to a grimace. "It's a hunter and his kids."
"Kids?!" The doctor's mouth dropped open. "In all the years, I've worked with you and worked with hunters, I've never heard of one having kids." He shook his head.
Bobby nodded. "It's definitely an unusual situation. But you need to know, John Winchester is protective of his boys. And you won't be able to get anywhere near Sam, the youngest without going through his big brother."
"I've handled upset parents before, Singer. Just tell me the state of the situation. There was a reason you called me."
Bobby shook his head but dropped the subject for now. He would allow the doctor to find out for himself just how hard it would for him to get near the youngest Winchester even though he was the most injured. "John looks pretty ok. Just some minor stuff. Dean, that's the older boy, was favoring his arm when they came in. Definitely sprained, might be broken. The youngest Sam, he seems the most injured of the bunch. Possible concussion. And all of the them have burns; Sam's most definitely the worst."
They had now reached the bedroom, and inside Bobby and the doctor could hear the brother's talking.
"Sam it'll be fine. Bobby's doctor friend will get you all fixed up."
"I know. I'm fine. Don't need to be checked out," Sam grumbled in response.
"Sammy, you gonna get checked out. Your brains are scrambled. And your arms look like that spirit tried to boil you."
They heard Sam huff in annoyance. Oh those teenage emotions coupled with a possible concussion would be fun. "Only if you get checked out too."
They then heard a noise of protest from Dean.
"No, you were hurt too. My brain may not be running on all cylinders, to put it in terms you understand, but I've seen you protecting your arm since we left the house. I get checked out, you get checked out."
This was new. Bobby had never heard Sam be defiant to Dean. Their father yes; John Winchester could try even the most passive saint's patience. But the youngest Winchester never bucked against his older brother. And the salvage yard owner had no intention of letting it start now.
"You both are getting checked out," he said with a knock on the door. "I didn't have doc, drive all the way out here for no reason."
The doctor stepped out from behind Bobby. "Doctor Jeremiah Nuttson. But you can call me Jeremiah. Now it seems to me, you boys got yourself into a bit of scrape."
Dean's eyes found Bobby's searching for conformation about the doctor's trustworthiness.
Once Bobby nodded, Dean moved slightly away from Sam. "What can we do for you doc?"
"Jeremiah, please," the doctor said.
"Doc, you gonna fix my brother?" Dean questioned.
"Dean…"Sam interrupted. "Sorry, Jeremiah," Sam apologized. "My brother can be kind of jerk sometimes. You're going to check him out too, right?"
"I plan to make sure both of you are in full working order before I leave." He moved closer to the brothers making to grab Dean's arm.
The older Winchester pulled back hissing in pain. "Sammy first. My brother's hurt worse."
Sam glared at Dean before scooting closer to the doctor.
"What seems to be the problem here?" The doctor asked even though he could see the raised, red and blistered skin, under the charred sweatshirt the boy was wearing and the glassy-eyed gaze attempting to track his movements.
"What are you blind? He's probably got a concussion and did you miss his arm?"
"Dean," Sam's crabbiness was coming out again. Bobby wasn't sure if it was teenage hormones or the possible concussion talking, but he wasn't sure he liked this new Sam.
The doctor moved quickly, pulling out a pen light shining it in Sam's eyes while continuing his questioning. "Sam, do you feel dizzy? Do you feel like you have to throw up? Do you have a headache?"
"No, no, a little bit." The doctor noticed the older brother was hanging on every word.
"He slept all the way here, if that means anything. And he's been crabbier than usual," Dean butted in.
"Shut up, Dean," Sam snapped.
"See what I mean," the elder brother turned his questioning gaze to Bobby.
"Can it Dean!"
"Pretty sure your brother is right, and you have a concussion there, young man. Now, let's see about your arm." Sam held out his arm to the doctor. And Jeremiah had to push down the urge to cringe. The boy's arms were red and the skin bubbled up in places already blistering. The doctor pulled out antiseptic to clean the burns.
Sam couldn't hold in the yelp of pain.
"DON'T HURT HIM!" Dean growled attempting to put himself between his brother and the doctor. But he could do so without hurting Sam. So instead he gripped his brother's shoulder.
John burst into the room. "What's going on?" His voice held the same tone as Dean's.
"This is Jeremiah, John," Bobby intervened before the eldest Winchester tried to tear the doctor apart. "He's here to check you and the boys out."
"I'm fine. Got any coffee, Bobby?"
"In the kitchen."
"Then that's where I'll be." John moved out of the doorway but came back one last time. "Boys, you good?"
"Fine, Dad," Dean said and Sam nodded his agreement. "Pretty sure, doc just surprised Sammy, is all."
"It's Sam," the youngest Winchester muttered, his teeth gritted in a combination pain and annoyance.
"All right Sam," Jeremiah continued. He spread antibiotic cream on the burns and wrapped them. "Keep that on for two to three weeks, until the blistering goes away. How 'bout some painkillers to take the edge off?"
"Not 'till you help Dean," the young man said backing into the headboard.
"Stubborn little bitch," Dean mumbled before scooting closer to the doctor. "All right doc, do what you gotta do."
"I prefer Jeremiah," the doctor said running his hands up and down Dean's arm.
"That's a losing battle my friend," Bobby put in with snort. "Be nice Dean."
"I'm always nice, Bobby."
"Sure you are," the hunter held in another snort. "Stop being such a smartass."
Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and held in a laugh at how Bobby was always able to reign in Dean's attitude.
"You're lucky. No break, just a sprain." Jeremiah had finished his examination while Dean had been distracted bantering with Bobby and Sam. He pulled a splint from his bag and wrapped it around Dean's wrist. "Keep that on for a week then see how your wrist feels. If it's not better leave the splint on for another week. When your brother's bandages come off, you should be able to take your splint off."
Dean eyed the splint with displeasure.
Jeremiah clamped down on his urge to laugh instead focusing on picking up his used supplies and pulling two bottles of pain killers from his bag. "Don't over use these."
"I'll make sure they don't," Bobby confirmed.
"You boys have a good night. Now where's my final patient?"
"John's downstairs. Follow me." Bobby glanced once more at the brothers. "You boys holler if you need anything."
"Got it Bobby," Dean said. "We're probably just going to go sleep anyway." To corroborate Dean's words, Sam yawned.
Bobby led the doctor to kitchen where he was met with John nursing a cup of coffee. From there he went to the basement to check on his surprise.
Opening the basement door, Bobby was met with the sound of barking. At the bottom of the stairs was a tiny black and brown Rottweiler puppy. "How ya doin' mutt?" the hunter asked dumping some food into a small dish near the stairs. The puppy barked. "Ya I know. You'll be able to come back upstairs soon."
Bobby came back up the basement stairs to see Dean in kitchen and the doctor and John nowhere to be found. "What's up kid? Where's your daddy and Jeremiah?"
"Dad went outside. And doc was getting ready to leave. Hey Bobby?"
"Yeah kid?"
"Do you have any hot chocolate or anything? Sammy's in a lot of pain, and he slept a lot on the way here so now, as tired as he is, he can't sleep. I thought maybe some hot chocolate or something would help. 'Cause right now he's just all strung out on them painkillers Doc gave him. But his arm and his head are still giving him a hard time."
"Did you ask Jeremiah about it?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah I did, just before he went outside. He said with Sammy's concussion he can't give him anymore painkillers. That the best thing for him is sleep. But Bobby the kid can't or won't sleep. He needs something to get him to fall asleep."
"Well, I got no hot chocolate. But I got something else that might work."
Dean gave him a confused look. "What are you talking about, Bobby?"
"Just a little something I got for myself that I thought you boys could share."
"Huh?" Dean's bewilderment increased. "What…"
"Come on kid." Bobby didn't wait for Dean to follow. He just made his way toward the basement.
Dean confusedly walked behind. "You gonna to tell me what this thing is?"
Bobby didn't say anymore just opened the door and let the surprise speak for itself.
Hearing the barking coming from bottom of the stairs, Dean's mouth dropped. "Bobby is that what I think it is?"
Bobby led Dean down the stairs, "Yup."
"When did you get this?"
"A couple of days ago. So what do you think? Think Sam it will help? Think he'll like it?" Bobby hoped his solution would help the youngest Winchester.
"I think it's great Bobby. Sam's going to love it. But do you think it will help?" Dean's eyes begged the older hunter to say yes.
"I don't know kid, but I think it's worth a shot."
"Come here you," Dean said picking up the puppy. "Ok, so you're going upstairs to meet my brother. Sammy's a good kid. But he's hurting right now, so you better behave."
The puppy licked Dean's face and barked.
Placing the puppy over the shoulder of his bad arm and using his good arm to support it, Dean raced up the stairs. "Shh," he said quieting the puppy at the top of the stairs. "You're supposed to be a surprise." The puppy buried its face in Dean's neck. "Knock, knock, Sammy. Think I got something that's going to make you feel better."
"Hot chocolate?" Sam asked his voice eager.
"Nah, something better. Bobby's surprise."
"You found out before me. Well what is it?" The petulant child attitude was back. "Dean…tell me," Sam whined.
"How 'bout I show you?" Dean said walking in the door.
"A puppy!" Sam's eyes met Bobby's who was standing behind Dean. "Bobby, you got a puppy?"
"Needed a guard dog," Bobby muttered. "Thought maybe you could help me take care of him when you stay here."
"Of course," Sam smile took up his entire face. He turned to Dean. "It'll be like having a pet, sort of."
"So what do you think Sammy? Can this little guy spend the night with us? I think he's sick of the basement."
"Just make sure the mutt doesn't pee on my floor. If he's gotta go out, take him out."
"Does he have a name, Bobby?" Sam asked.
"I was thinking Rumsfeld."
"I like it." Sam smiled. "Hi Rummy," Sam said petting the dog's head as Dean placed the dog on the bed.
"Dog's name is Rumsfeld." Catching a glare from Dean, he backtracked, "Or whatever."
Bobby went downstairs and began researching another hunt knowing John Winchester would want to move on sooner rather than later. When he went to check on the boys an hour later, they were sharing a bed leaving the other empty for John. Dean was flipping through a hunting magazine with Sam asleep on his good shoulder Bobby's new puppy asleep between the two of them.
Dean briefly looked up from his magazine.
"Get some sleep," Bobby mouthed.
"I will," Dean mouthed back. "Thank you," he mouthed nodding toward Sam whose good arm was wrapped around the sleeping puppy.
Dean once again smiled at the memory, hoping he was right, and Bobby would enjoy his gift. "Hey, Sammy, we're here," he said turning down the gravel driveway to the salvage yard.
His brother woke shaking his hair out like a shaggy dog. "Huh?"
"We're at Bobby's. Got the surprise ready?" Dean met his brother's eyes in the rearview mirror.
"You sure he's gonna like it?" Sam's concern was getting old.
"Sammy, I already told you. Bobby's gonna love it. Now stop worrying."
Dean pulled the car to a stop in front of Bobby's house and got out gesturing for his brother to stay in the car. "Bobby! Bobby! You home?" Dean yelled.
Bobby came around the house from his shop, his signature trucker cap askew on his head. "What the heck you yelling about, boy?"
"Me and Sammy got into a bit of trouble on our last hunt."
"I know, Dean. You called me remember. Some zombie lady beat up Sam and broke his arm. And you boys needed a place to crash. So again, I'm asking you why the heck you felt the need to yell across my yard?"
"Well, as a thank you for letting us crash here all the time. And always patching us up when we need it. We got you a little surprise." He knocked on the window of the backseat.
Sam got out of the backseat a Rottweiler puppy cradled in his arms. "It's a thank you and an apology."
"For what?" Bobby managed to stutter out.
"For always letting us stay here. And because we're the reason you don't have a guard dog anymore," Sam said refusing to meet Bobby's gaze, his eyes never leaving the puppy in his arms.
"That wasn't your fault, Sammy," Bobby met Dean's eyes over his brother's bowed head. "So what do you think of your new guard dog?"
"Your brother's right; that wasn't your fault, son, "Bobby said moving his head to meet the younger Winchester's gaze. "Now let's take a look at this mutt," he said moving closer. He ran his hand over the puppy's head then patted Sam's broken arm as well because the tiny puppy had begun to chew the young man's cast. "Looks like it could be a good guard dog. It's already sharpening its teeth."
Sam finally met his mentor's eyes. "You like him?" he asked his eyes pleading."
"I love him, Sam. But I'm thinking he needs a name. Any suggestions?"
"You want my help?"
"Of course. Gonna be your dog too. You're gonna be taken care of this mutt when you're here."
Sam's eyes brightened and a grin lit up his face. "What about Kennedy?"
"Kennedy, like as in JFK? Really Sammy?" Dean asked incredulously. "Couldn't you think of anything more fun, like Zepplin or Ace or something?"
"I like it," Bobby confirmed. "How you doin' Kennedy?" the older hunter asked scratching the puppy behind the ears.
The puppy barked once as if confirming his name before snuggling into Sam's elbow and going to sleep.
"Thank you, boys. You better be a good guard dog mutt. I'm sure you boys are hungry after your long drive. There's chili on the stove, and I'm sure we can scrounge up something for the mutt."