Title: Open Door
Author: Saberivojo
Characters: Sam, Dean and Bobby
Rating: Gen, PG13 for potty language.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Bobby has an open door policy with the Winchesters. God, knows when they will stumble in.

Bobby always had an open door policy when it came to the Winchester boys. As much as he sometimes hated to admit it, that included their father too. The caveat with that was that the door swung both ways and he had no problem pitchin' the elder Winchester out if he reckoned it needed to happen.

Sam and Dean though… those boys didn't even need a key.

Which is why, despite the fact that it was 2:30 in the morning, he was not all that shocked to see them roll up to his door.

It was a little disturbing not to see John with them, even stranger that the car that pulled up was a Pinto.

But it wasn't until 13-year old Sam scrambled out of the driver side that Bobby went from slightly confused to panicked.

Bobby was down the steps and helping Sam open the passenger door before the dust settled.

Dean grinned at Bobby through a smashed mouth and dried blood. "Hey, Bobby!"

The whiff of alcohol almost knocked him on his ass.

"Jesus, Dean…" Bobby leaned into the car. "You drunk?"

Dean pinched his forefinger and thumb together. "Littlebit."

Bobby turned to Sam. "What has your dumb ass brother done?"

"Bar fight. Maybe some bruised ribs and dumb ass is right 'cause…" Sam helped Bobby as they each grabbed an arm. It was then that Bobby saw the blood stains on the seat. "he's got a knife wound to his ass." Sam glared at Dean but the look was lost on his brother who groaned, but continued to smile in Bobby's general direction.

Bobby was holding most of Dean's weight anyway. For a kid, he was heavy as shit- so he sent Sam up ahead. "Open the door, Sammy."

Sam bounded up the steps and Bobby grabbed Dean's belt, shouldered Dean and maneuvered him up and through the door.

Sam helped him take Dean to the couch, and Bobby carefully lowered him down.

Bobby unbuckled Dean's belt and gently tried to pull down his jeans.

Dean batted at Bobby's hand. "Hey, watchit. I don't put out on a first date!"

"It's either that or this?" Bobby held a pair of scissors that had somehow materialized in his hand.

"Well, hell, I don't wanna have to get new jeans." Bobby continued to pull down his jeans and rolled Dean a bit so he could access his butt.

"You may need new ones anyway, these are air-conditioned in a spot that's gonna get some notice. So you gonna tell me what happened?" Dean just groaned so Bobby directed his question to Sam.

"Don't you wanna tell him, Dean?"

Bobby wasn't so much surprised at the attitude; Sam could sure enough bitch if he wanted.

"Dad told him to stay out of the damn bar. Hell, he ORDERED him to stay out of the bar. What did he say, Dean? – Something like…'I catch you hustlin' in that bar and I'm gonna kick your ass into next week.' Wasn't that it, Dean?"

Dean yipped a bit as Bobby pulled the temporary bandage that consisted of hastily stuffed 4X4 gauze that was holding the blood flow to a minimum.

"But Noooo, nooo you just had to go and try to hustle Billy Joe Bob or whoever the hell it was." Sam shoulders were as tense as his pursed lips. Bobby could tell the kid was a moment away from losin' his shit.

"Sam, give me a hand here, let's stop the bleeding before we ream him out okay?' That seemed to work because no matter how pissed Sam was at Dean, Bobby was sure he didn't want his brother to bleed out.

"What the hell kind of knife was this?"

Dean mumbled a bit. "Dunno, pig sticker? Ice pick? Shiv? He nailed me in the ass, Bobby. Do you think I

got eyes in the back of m'head?"

Bobby scowled, wiped disinfectant over the wound with a quick swipe and was gratified to see the blood moving sluggishly at best.

Dean offered another yip "Ow, whatcha doin' pouring straight Jack on my ass?"

"Shaddup, you got a nice hole in ya, Dean. Do you want it to get infected?" Bobby turned to Sam. "Hand me those bandages will ya? It's not as deep as I thought and I don't wanna stitch it 'cause a hole like this is more likely to heal poorly if it's sutured up. Still…" Bobby thought for a moment. "I think we oughta stop this bleeding."

"So, where's your Daddy? " Bobby deftly bandaged Dean, being as careful as he could.

Sam snorted. "A black dog, a couple states over. Hotel is paid up till next week so I don't know why this shithead here had to try to hustle some extra money."

"He know you're here?" Bobby pinned Sam with a dark look.

"No, sir. Dean wouldn't let me take him to the hospital and I couldn't stop the bleeding. You were only an hour or so away. So I made an executive decision."

"Executive decision? " Dean was trying to pull his pants up while he was still laying down. It wasn't going very well. "Pretty damn stupid if ya ask me. You're only thirteen Dickhead, what if ya got pulled over or something?"

"I dunno, Dean. Maybe I shoulda let my drunk-ass, stabbed-ass brother drive!"

Bobby took a deep breath. He didn't know if he was gonna kill them or if they were gonna kill him first.

"So where' d ya get the piece of shit car?"

Sam smiled shyly. "Hot wired it, but who the hell would miss it anyway? Floor boards are rusted out and the damn thing can barely make it to 50 miles per hour."

Bobby shook his head. "Okay, boys. Let's regroup. Dean, stop pulling up your pants. They're covered in blood and lord knows what else that was all over that bar. Leave 'em off. Your naked ass ain't going anywhere so lay down." Dean started to protest but was stopped cold when Bobby glared at him from under his hat "Shut the fuck up and do what you're told."

"Yes, sir."

"Sammy, you call your Daddy and tell him you are stayin' with me a few days."

Dean toggled his head. "No way, Bobby. Dad'll kill me. Just shove me and Sammy back in that shitty Pinto and we'll be back to the motel before he knows anything's wrong."

"Look, I ain't saying he isn't gonna find out. You have a hole in your ass, Dean; he just might notice somethin' like that. But Sam can't doctor you the way you need right now and if he comes back early and you aren't there the ass kickin' you get for coming here ain't gonna be nothing compared to what happens if he finds you gone and you don't tell him where you are. Not to mention the possible stroke when he sees that empty motel room. So it's the lesser of two evils."

Bobby looked at Dean, who suddenly seemed a bit more sober than he was a few minutes ago, now the epitome of contrition. Everyone talked about Sammy and his puppy dog eyes but Dean could melt Bobby like a hot weld on ice when the kid looked like that. Bobby sighed.

"Just tell him I asked you to come. I'll take the hit okay? I'll tell him I needed you two for research and that you were close by so I figured I would swing by and pick you up. He'll be pissed anyway, but at me. Hopefully, by the time he gets here, you'll be sitting easier and you might just be able to pull off lying about the fact that you got your ass stabbed."

Sammy growled a little. "I don't care if he does get in trouble, the dickhead shoulda listened."

"Well, you'll get no argument from me about that one but since Dean's gonna be helping me get the yard in order this summer, I suppose we can talk about how he oughta listen when a grownup tells him to not hustle pool. Especially when his moronic lack of regard to orders drags his little brother and his Uncle Bobby into lying for his stupid, stabbed ass."

Dean had the good common sense to blush over that one.

"Got it, Bobby."

"Good." Bobby reached into the med kit and pulled out a syringe. He carefully drew up the penicillin.

"Might as well get this over while you are still available. Gotta tell ya, this open access ass stuff is mighty convenient."

For the first time since the boys showed up, Bobby grinned. "Well, Dean, looks like I got a good target here."

Bobby might a pushed that needle in just a little too hard but listening to Dean's startled yelp was worth it.

End