Here's a fic I just wrote today for a friend: tumblr user heavensong. We're kind of doing a creative trade-I write her a fic and she draws me a picture~ Her favorite character from Supernatural is Bobby Singer, so I definitely made him the main character of the fic ;)

Really weird not doing a shippy fic, but it also feels good.

Fave if you like it, and review to tell me what you think!

Enjoy~

Family Don't End With Blood

It was after school and Bobby was waiting for Sam and Dean to visit him—he had talked to John about it a week ago, finally getting the strict man to let his kids have fun. He talked to the young Winchester's on the phone, too, and he could tell that they couldn't contain their excitement at all. It made him happy that they liked him so much. He already made plans on what they were going to do. It was going to be perfect: no hunting at all—only normal, family things.

He wanted to go pick the two of them up at each of their schools, but Dean kept telling him that he could walk from the middle school over to the elementary school to get Sam, and then they could both walk over to Bobby's. It's impossible to tell a Winchester to do anything, so Bobby agreed but with the condition that they would get there right after school.

Bobby decided to stay outside and continue doing his work on the car junkyard with Rumsfeld until the boys would arrive. Eventually, though, he could hear someone rapping on his door. When he took longer than a second to reach the door, he could hear Dean's voice shouting from the other side: "Come on, old man. We wanna see you!"

"Ya idjit! Sometimes I gotta walk from the back of the house to get to the door!" Bobby's grunted as he rushed over to the door. Once he opened the door, he smiled at the two boys who were beaming up at him.

"Heya, boys," he replied with a small smile on his face. "Took you two long enough to get here. You used to get here so much quicker," he teased and gestured for the brothers to go inside the house.

"Dean took forever to leave the middle school. I was waiting for a long time before he actually got to my school," Sam interjected as he threw his backpack on one of the chairs in the living room. Dean glared at Sam for the remark, kicking him at the back of his leg. "Ow!" Sam let out after the blow.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about, Bobby. I was doing some serious after-school stuff in a club."

"Yeah, right. Like you'd ever join a club," Sam laughed out.

"All right, boys. How about you guys run off into the kitchen so I can give ya idjits a little somethin' to eat?" Bobby added into the conversation. He didn't have to say it twice—the two boys were already rushing to the kitchen. "You two going to spend the night here? It's the weekend now, so I don't see why yer father can't let that happen."

"I don't think Dad would want us to…" Dean started, but Sam quickly interrupted him:

"I think Dad can handle himself if a hunt or two appear tonight. Not like we can really help him."

"No, Sammy. You're too young to understand. Dad always needs us," Dean replied with a frown.

"No arguing in my house, 'right you two? I'm gonna call yer dad and see what he thinks about it. I'm pretty sure ol' Bobby here can convince a man like John," Bobby added, "Now go sit down! I already have sandwiches ready fer ya. After eating, we can probably go to the park and play some soccer or catch."

...

Fortunately for all three of them, John had agreed on the kids staying over—for one night only, though, is what John said. Oh well, Bobby knew that he wouldn't be able to convince him for any more days. At least he got to see the boys every few weeks. However, he still wished that they came over more often, seeing as how that was the only time they got to be real kids. It also took Bobby away from his hunter life, which was really nice, too.

After Sam and Dean finished bickering at each other and eating their sandwiches, they all prepared to leave for the park. That was one of their most treasured moments of the day—being outside, under the sun, and playing around as if they were a normal family. Even though Bobby was not related to them, he felt more of a father than he ever thought John was. He knew that there were reasons for what John did, but it still bothered him that the kids were so young and already so different from anyone else their age.

They first started playing catch: Bobby would throw it to Dean, who would throw it to Sam, and then it would go back to Bobby. Sometimes, though, he would throw it to Sam, which would make Dean pout.

"Sorry, the puppy face only works with Sam," Bobby noted with a laugh. Sam then passed the ball back to Bobby, which caused Dean to get even more frustrated. "All right, boy; here you go," Bobby replied and threw the ball back over to Dean.

"You're lucky you're cool," Dean scoffed and then threw the ball over to Sam.

...

After they were all tired out from doing everything at the park—and it started turning dark—the trio made their way back towards Bobby's house. On the way, though, Sam stopped and pointed at the sky. "Hey! A shooting star! Make a wish!"

"You know that's complete crap, right, Sammy?" Dean retorted and kept walking.

"No, it's not! If there are bad things in this world, why not good?" Sam said with a frown. Bobby stopped walking and looked back at Sam. "Did you make a wish, Bobby?" he asked as he looked up at him.

"I wished that you two could come over here more. It would be nice to see your bright faces more often," he answered with a melancholic smile. "You?"

"I… I wished that I could be normal," Sam whispered as he looked down at his feet, looking almost ashamed. Bobby figured that John always badgered him for wishing these things, and he wished that he could help him more. He knew he only saw them once every few weeks, but he figured that he could still make a difference in their lives. Walking up to the younger Winchester, Bobby pulled Sam into a hug.

Dean was still walking ahead of them, seemingly ignoring what was going on behind him. It was a lot harder reaching out to Dean, who was a bit older and already followed his father blindly ever since he was tiny. Bobby let out a sigh and shook Sam slightly in a comforting way. "C'mon, Sam. Let's go eat something else and then maybe we can watch some TV or something," he said with a small smile, causing Sam to look up at him—his eyes misty from tears—and return the smile.

They shortly arrived at the house and had some tomato soup that Bobby prepared quickly, since he could tell the two were already starving. They brought their bowls over to the living room and sat down at the couch as Bobby turned on the TV and they started to watch the cartoons that were playing that night. It was a great time for all of them—they laughed and talked about the episodes that played on the television, all forgetting the hard lives they had.

A few hours later, Bobby could tell that the two were very tired; Sam was leaning his head against Dean, and Dean against Bobby's arm. Noticing that both of their eyes were rolling to the back of their heads from being sleepy, Bobby turned off the TV and tugged them into the bedroom despite the (futile) efforts of the boys as they tried to explain—through yawns—that they weren't tired.

"Ya idjits need to sleep well, otherwise yer father isn't going to be too happy with me," Bobby added as he pushed the two of them into the beds he had arranged in one of his extra rooms just for the boys.

"Can you tell us a story or something before we sleep?" Sam asked tiredly.

"Sammy, that's stupid. We're not little kids anymore. We're—"

Not letting Dean continue, Bobby cut him off: "Not little kids anymore? Last time I checked, Sam is a fourth-grader and you're an eighth-grader. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's what a kid is. Don't try to make yourself grow up faster than you should, boy."

Dean didn't respond; he only huffed softly. Bobby sighed and decided to change the subject. "So, a story, huh? What kind do ya want? Probably not a hunter story, right?" he asked with a grin on his face. Sam let out a small laugh and shook his head.

"No thanks!" he replied, causing Dean to look over at him and glare.

"Why not? Those are the best stories!"

"Not when we're always a part of them, Dean!" Sam sighed.

"All right, so. What kind of story do you want to listen to?" Bobby asked again.

"About normal families."

"Sammy! Dad doesn't want us to—"

"I've had enough of you, ya idjit. Leave Sam alone. He gets to choose the story this time—didn't you choose last time? His turn now," Bobby replied, already getting tired of Dean interjecting whenever Sam talked about non-hunter lives. "I'll tell you what you want to hear, okay, Sam?" He smiled and started to wrack his brain for some sort of story that would please the young Winchester. "Okay, here we are. There was once a family who…"

...

It was the next morning, and John had called around eight—four hours earlier than he said he would—saying that he wanted the boys home right away. Bobby let out a sigh after hanging up with him and headed over to the boys who were still sleeping soundly. Before waking them up, Bobby watched them as they lay in their beds, quiet and comfortable. He didn't want to interrupt their dreams, knowing very well that they—yes, Dean too—would be dreaming of another life other than the one that they both had.

He eventually had to wake them up, though, because he didn't want to get yelled at over the phone later. Walking over to Dean first and then Sam, he nudged them softly until they stretched and opened their eyes. "Hey, John wants you two home now."

Sam sat up, furrowing his eyebrows. "What time is it?"

"Eight. I know he was supposed to get you later, but I guess he needs you now."

"Did he say why?" Dean asked, already shooting up from his bed and gathering his things from around the room. Sam looked down at his hands, upset that they had to leave so early.

"No. Only that he wants you guys home now," Bobby explained with a sigh.

"I don't want to go," Sam let out softly. Bobby gave him an empathetic glance as he walked up to him and put a hand on his head.

"I'm sorry, boy. I wish you could stay longer. I'll see you in a few weeks, though. Right?" Bobby tried to reassure him, though he himself was already feeling sad that the boys were leaving.

"Yeah," Sam responded with a nod. He jumped off the bed and ran up to Bobby, giving him a tight hug. "Thanks, Bobby." He looked up at him and gave the old man a big smile.

...

John arrived at the house, already beeping his horn, as the two young Winchesters finished eating and were gathering all their things together. They had to run before their father would get impatient—apparently there was a hunt that he needed to take the two of them on, and he wasn't going to leave without them, no matter how much Bobby tried convincing him otherwise.

Bobby waved while the boys ran into the car and looked out the back window to say goodbye one last time as the car started driving off. "Bye, Bobby! See you soon," Dean called out. Sam only smiled and continued waving.

Once they were out of sight, Bobby let out a small sigh as he turned around on his heel and walked back into the house. As much as the situation with Sam and Dean saddened him, those moments were always the best ones of his life—they were always moments that he waited for all the time. He was always excited when he talked to John and they agreed that the boys could go over for a day or two. That, Bobby figured, was probably why he kept on living these moments, even after death. He knew that Heaven would give him something that made him happy, but he sure as Hell wasn't expecting something so melancholic and bittersweet as this.

"Heaven has always been a pretty messed up place anyway," he said to himself as he walked through his house and headed for the back, where he'd work on his cars again. Rumsfeld then trotted up to him and watched. Bobby patted him on the head and then continued working—waiting for the next moment that Sam and Dean would show up at his doorstep.

"I only hope that Sam and Dean are doing all right back at Earth," Bobby whispered softly to him.