Hello Supernatural fandom, it's nice to meet you :D

So I'm new to Supernatural and I'm ALMOST finished season 8

And I really love Bobby. I like him so much more than John because he actually acts like a father.

WARNING: Spoilers! ... yeah that's pretty much it :P This is set at the end of the episode 'Death's Door' in season 7 where Bobby is inside his own head. Not so much a story with plot as the internal ramblings of Bobby

I don't own Supernatural or any of it's characters although I would happily take Dean and Cas if they were so offered ;)

I dedicate this first chapter to my first reviewer as is my wont, so congratulations Heartless BytchhakaHelenBach1 :D

Enjoy ^.^

Bobby Singer had met a lot of people over the years, some good, some bad. He had seen more families than he could count torn apart by 'the life', the mere knowledge that there was something more out there changed people, no matter how insignificantly, it always left a scar. Bobby had made friends and enemies along the course of his life, friends that he would die for and enemies that he would die to kill. He had watched a lot of both die, had a hand in some. He had loved and lost and lost again and he was reminded daily that that was just 'the life' and he would have to get over it. He owed people and was owed, he knew when to call in favours and would always pay his own debts. He was a Hunter, and he was satisfied if not entirely happy with the way his life had turned out.

Then, John Winchester had come along. Grief-stricken and angry as sin dragging along two young boys and Bobby's life was changed forever. John had been like a brother to him. They had worked more jobs and killed more creatures and learnt more lore than he cared to remember and they had made a good team. Bobby was more cautious than John and liked to stick to whatever plan they made, forethought and knowledge that would ensure their survival. John was more adaptable, willing to change as circumstances demanded, making him more reckless and easily trapped. They balanced, and kept each other alive.

But there was no 'outside of work' life for John. Everything he was got consumed by his desire for revenge on the demon that killed Mary. It was Bobby who made the time for the boys, tried to give John breaks between jobs so that he could raise his family. If that failed and John got a lead then Bobby would do his darnedest to find a day or two in his own life that he could dedicate to his friends' kids.

They were under a lot of pressure from their absent father. Bobby knew. Especially, Dean, the oldest. The first to find out what it was that John now did. It was his job to protect Sam when John was on a job, to look after him and cook dinner and take him to school and put him to bed and do all the things that a father should do. It took it's toll and Dean grew up fast, protective and serious; hiding any pain or fear away behind a mask of cocky bravado, bursting out in rebellious acts of drinking, and girls, just to keep his little brother in the dark for as long as possible. He forgot his old life, his happy first few years, the feeling of family, all he had was his brother and his dad, one to protect, the other to worship.

Sam grew up with questions and no answers. He didn't remember his mother, he didn't understand why his father was always gone, he didn't know why his brother got angry if he tried to talk about it, or why they were always moving around. The only stable thing in his life was Dean, and he clung on tight. And Dean never let Sam down. Sam knew that Dean would always be there, to save him from bullies, comfort him when he had nightmares, teach him everything he needed to know. But Sam never got answers to the questions he asked, and resented the lack of choice in his life. After he found out the truth about his father and what he was, he wanted out, and never stopped resisting.

Bobby Singer saw right through them. They were complicated and confused and stubborn but they were still just kids, and Bobby knew that sometimes kids needed to be kids. So he'd take them to the park, or a field and they'd play baseball or soccer, no matter how much Dean fake-complained that these mundane skills were useless in 'the life'. Bobby remembers those golden days, how happy the boys looked when they realised that they weren't going to practice throwing knives or shooting cans and could just let go of their life for the moment and have fun like a normal family.

He remembered countless arguments with John about it over the phone, John insisting that the boys had no time to waste and needed to learn how to protect themselves while Bobby argued that they shouldn't give up hope of a normal life. Those conversations usually ended with John playing the 'I'm their father' card and causing Bobby to curse and hang up. Truth was, he loved those troubled boys like they were his own. He gave Sam that necklace which Dean never took off, if John was working a job with someone else and Bobby didn't have anything pressing on then he would offer to house the boys for a few days and he would wave aside Dean's help and look after the both of them for a change. He taught them lore of creatures that John hadn't met yet but only for interest's sake. Bobby never wanted 'the life' for them and had been secretly thrilled when Sam got out, despite the strain it put on the family. He had then fallen out of touch with the brothers until they showed up at his door, years later, grown tall and fresh from horror, looking for John.

It was a while before he was fully integrated, before he became their surrogate father, but it was worth every second of the journey there. They were great boys. They had grown into great men. Driven and determined and brave and strong. Bobby noticed little things about them, like how Sam was always keeping at least one secret to try to keep Dean from worrying, like how Dean felt things more deeply than Sam, who got on with people as a whole but took a step back from relationships and was better equipped at dealing with loss and mistakes. Dean punished himself unrelentingly for every bit of wrong in his life. He felt true connections with people and his fierce loyalty meant that he never let go. With John, Sam, Bobby, Ellen and Jo, Lisa and Ben, Castiel, and everyone else that he felt he owed something to. They both suffered so much, and achieved so much, but always for other people, to save lives; throwing aside their own for each other or the greater good. Enduring horrors and pain and torture that would make any lesser man shatter beyond repair. And maybe they were broken and frayed, but they held each other up and kept going, day after day.

Bobby was there through it all. He answered their calls, listened to them bitch, stitched their wounds, gave them beer and food and researched as much as humanly possible. Because they needed him. And he needed them too. He was gruff and grumpy and a just-over-the-borderline-alcoholic but he loved his boys. He liked having them around the house, flipping through pages while Dean snored on the sofa. Or helping Dean fix up his baby while Sam watched on, amused. He liked the security they gave him. He knew that they were just a phone call away and would come if he needed them. They would drop everything to help those they cared about. They were the sons he'd never dared to have and although he was sad when he thought of Sam in college and Dean with a family, upset that they had been sucked into 'the life' which only ended bloody or sad. He was glad that they had turned out the way they had. Ejits that they were. They needed his help more than they knew. They relied on him for a lot and Bobby wouldn't have had it any other way.

So it was unsurprising really that his last memory wasn't one of their great battles, or the stopping of the apocalypse, or the relief after a near death (or actual death) experience. It wasn't hunting or training or yelling or saving people. It wasn't fighting for some great celestial cause, it wasn't even one of those talks that helped them all to understand each other a little better. It was just Sam and Dean watching TV. Bickering about licorice and popcorn. Not even talking to him, not acknowledging his existence, just being brothers. Taking it for granted that he was there with them, because he always was. One of those rare and precious moments where they weren't hunters, weren't dead or dying, weren't fighting for anything. It was just the most ordinary day in the world, and so extraordinary in so many ways. And as he watched, and smiled fondly at them, waiting for his Reaper, he remembered that moment. How it had felt. How at peace he was there. When they were a family.

Yes. Bobby Singer had met a lot of people. But none of them had ever meant quite so much to him as Sam and Dean Winchester.

So what do you think? I tried to get inside Bobby's head with kind of an objective perspective if that makes sense. I really wanted to convey just how much Sam and Dean meant to him.

I cried at this point in the episode. The only time I've actually cried at Supernatural. (So far :P Only two episodes until I've caught up.) So I kinda wanted to get across my feels at this point xD

Also ... can you tell that I prefer Dean to Sam? I tried to be as equal as possible because Bobby obviously doesn't have a preference but maybe a little of my own opinion managed to seep in there. Sorry :P

Please review and let me know what you think. I really appreciate any feedback you can give, positive or negative :)

Love Tibbins xx