There is not a rocking chair in Bobby Singer's heaven. But there is a house. His house. With the wrap around porch he'd promised Karen he'd build one day. There is a garden with wild flowers on one side and flourishing vegetables on the other. The is a front lawn open and wide; with a washing line where sheets flap in the breeze. There is a back yard is filled with cars that need fixing.
There is not a rocking chair in Bobby Singer's heaven. But there is his wife, Karen; she's sitting on the front steps, whole, and healthy, and alive, and she's smiling at him in spite of the tears in her eyes. She takes Bobby in her arms and whispers, "I've been waiting," in his ear as he buries his face in the slope of her neck. She smells like honeysuckle and home.
She pulls back and laughs, wipes at the tears catching in his beard and takes him by the hand, leading him inside. The house is cleaner, brighter. Bobby's books of lore are stacked in the den, but there are novels inhabiting the bookcase in the sitting room. There's dinner in the oven and the table is set, like Karen knew he was coming and they sit together. Bobby can't take his eyes from her face. They make love that night in the bedroom, tender and slow and they hold each other in the dark and he swears, when Karen falls asleep with her head on his chest, that it's a miracle.
There is not a rocking chair in Bobby Singer's heaven, but there is a large sofa, blue and worn and comfortable. He and Karen sit there sometimes in the afternoon or the evening, close and content. Sometimes they sit on the porch swing instead, swaying in the twilight with cups of tea, because who needs whiskey when you have happiness. There are quiet afternoons, and brilliant sunsets, and there is safety and serenity and happiness.
There isn't a rocking chair in Bobby Singer's heaven, but there is a family.
He comes up behind Karen in the kitchen, making more food than they could ever eat, and he puts his hands on her waist, kisses just beneath her ear. She turns her head and smiles, shoes him away, tells him to set the table because "the kids are coming for dinner."
Bobby doesn't know what to expect, until there is knock on the door and Dean comes in, smiling and relaxed, holding the hand a small girl, four or so, with messy dark hair and a smattering of freckles. She sees Bobby and breaks into a smile that is all Dean, running for him and throwing out her arms, some kind of muscle memory kicks in because he bends down enough to scoop her effortlessly into a hug that she returns with jubilation.
She pulls back and tilts her head in a gesture that echoes Castiel's, green eyes bright, "Hello, Grampa," she says solemnly.
"Let the man, breathe, Jo," Dean says coming up, planting a kiss on the girl's head and clasping a hand on Bobby's shoulder in greeting. He looks lighter, happier, than Bobby has ever seen him and he grins at Bobby and this child who is clearly his daughter with a joy that is simple and unadorned and sits easily on him, like it belongs.
Karen comes in from the kitchen, smiling fit to burst, "Is that my Joanna I hear?" Jo's face lights up and she kisses Bobby's cheek, giggles at the scrape of his whiskers and wriggles to be set free. She runs into Karen's waiting arms, with a cry of "Grams," and it looks so damn right. Bobby who still feels the imprint of the child in his arms, the ghost of her kiss on his cheek, just stares in wonder at his wife with her grandbaby wrapped in an embrace.
Dean strolls over and kisses Karen on the cheek. She swats him away with a blush.
"Where's Cas?" she asks.
"Flying Ellie over, she woke up cranky," he replies, "guess we know which parent she takes after?" He jokes and Karen rolls her eyes and cuffs him lightly upside the head. Bobby thinks there must be a god is Cas and Dean finally got over themselves, and, judging by the band on Dean's ring finger, got married and had some kids—grandkids for Bobby and Karen—and a son who clearly loves Bobby's wife, is comfortable enough to joke and jape.
Karen turns to Jo and asks if she'd like to help her make pie for dessert, she nods vigorously, and Dean offers to help, but Karen shoos him out of the kitchen.
"Good to see you, old man," Dean grins and Bobby isn't sure if he knows just how good it is to see Dean, to see him happy.
Cas appears suddenly in the sitting room with a toddler in his arms. For all that she might have been cranky earlier, she's smiling brightly now. Cas grins softly at her enthusiastic arm waving.
"How was the flight?" Dean asks coming over and kissing Cas soft and quick, taking the child in hand at her cry of 'dada'.
"Like you," Cas says with an expression somewhere between fondness and frustration (with fondness winning out), "She wants to 'run before she can walk' as such."
"Is that right, Ellie?" Dean asks her, "You wanna start flying early? You gotta try to hold it back so you don't give your daddy a heart-attack, huh?"
Cas snorts and comes over to embrace Bobby. It's an almost ritualistic gesture. Hugging Cas feels like hugging a small sun, like you can feel the angel under the skin. When he pulls back he says, "It is good to see you, Bobby," solemnly
"You too, Feathers," Bobby replies, "Now let me see my grandbaby." He reaches out his arms and Dean smiles handing the girl over. She beams at Bobby. Brown hair flopping gently into her bright blue eyes; she has Dean's freckles, and Cas mouth, and she touches Bobby's cheeks and giggles.
Cas goes to help Karen and Jo in the kitchen; Bobby sits with Ellie on his lap, while he and Dean talk. About life, about how Jo loves arts and crafts in preschool, and Ellie is talking more and more every day, and Dean's gig writing short stories is going really well. Cas has been busy helping Sam with some translations lately, and can Bobby and Karen still watch the girls next week because Cas and Dean have that long weekend planned? And, no, he swears that Jo will still be 'grounded' i.e. not flying yet by then, but Cas thinks that she's probably going to start within the year. The things you have to think about when your granddaughters are half-angel.
Bobby tells Dean about Karen and his trip to the farmer's market and how well the tomatoes are turning out this summer, and how beautifully the 65 mustang he's restoring is going when the front door opens, and Sam comes in, shouting hello, with his arm around a heavily pregnant Jessica. Unlike, Dean who had the air of a man in his element, at his ease mostly, Sam is radiating anxiety and excitement and nerves. But it's joyful as he flutters around his wife. Dean and Sam embrace and while Sam comes over and envelops Bobby in a hug that makes his spine pop audibly, Dean goes to hug and kiss Jessica, and say hello to his niece or nephew. Sam picks Ellie up and rubs noses with her, making her laugh before tossing her into the air over his head, which she absolutely loves.
Jessica kisses Bobby on the cheek and holds her niece. Bobby peeks in the kitchen, where Cas and Karen talk about dessert crusts, and Karen helps Jo to roll out the dough.
Jessica comes in, and Cas and Karen look delighted to see her. It's clear that the three are close friends. Jo says a solemn hello to her aunt and her unborn cousin and runs to hug her Uncle Sammy around the knees with a gusto that makes everyone else laugh. Sam picks her up, with a "Heya, squirt," just as happy to see her.
Jessica chats with everyone, while she actively helps Cas and Karen with prep, showing Jo how to make shapes in the crust; Cas watches this intently apparently saving it for later use. When Bobby is assured that they don't need help, and Dean is assured that he's not allowed anywhere near anything pie related until dessert (including Castiel), and Sam is assured that Jessica will be just fine in here. Karen fairly herds them into the sitting room.
The boys seem to have a running bet on whether or not the baby will be a boy or a girl, and they bicker about Dean having an unfair advantage, "everyone else in your house knows," "but they've been sworn to secrecy, dude, I wouldn't cheat, I've got my honor." Sam scoffs, and Dean turns to Ellie, who's sitting on her uncle's lap, for support "Isn't that right, kiddo? Daddy wouldn't cheat." Ellie just blinks knowingly and smiles enigmatically (an impressive feat for someone not yet two); her resemblance to Cas is very strong in that moment.
"Anyway, I think you're the one with some leftover psychic mojo, how is that not cheating?" Dean rejoins.
They continue like this, trading good natured barbs, calling on Bobby to intervene, and bemoan that his boys will never grow up, but they have, and well, this childishness is fucking beautiful to him. Turns out Sam is nervous that he won't be a good dad and he has no clue what to do with a girl if he gets one.
"Dude, what are you talking about?" Dean nods at his daughter, "You're great with your nieces. And if Cas and I can handle it, you sure can."
Bobby thinks that Sam is afraid of becoming John, and he makes a note to pull him aside later and give that boy a good long talk about the fact that for someone as caring as he is, that's damn near impossible.
They settle around the dinner table. Everything is delicious. Karen places her hand on Bobby's knee. Cas and Jess talk about baby names ("Don't listen to him, Jess," Dean blusters, "He wanted Jo to be called Hester" "It's a good name, Dean" "If you wanted her to be teased in kindergarten" Jess just laughs, "I like Hester," Sam looks vaguely nauseous). Sam and Karen chat about the folklore course he's going to be teaching next semester. Dean occasionally throws his two cents into both conversations while he tries to eat his dinner, tag-team feed Ellie, and lean over to whisper things in Cas' ear that make the angel blush. Jo is totally occupied with telling Bobby about school and about her friends (angel and human) before seguing into a story about when papa took her to visit Uncle Gabriel in heaven, and how he said she was a prodigy, which makes Bobby chuckle wondering what Dean had to say about that when they got home. Bobby is lost in the story she weaves. She has the exuberance of a child and the gravitas of a centuries old being and the juxtaposition is overwhelming.
When she finishes eating she goes down to sit with her Uncle Sammy, with whom she clearly has a tight bond, and then moves to whisper something to her Papa, before Jessica asks if she wants to help her get dessert.
Bobby just soaks up the ambiance, the chatter, the rise and fall of the conversation, the good natured ribbing, the love.
"You're awful quiet, honey," Karen whispers, "Are you all right?"
Bobby kisses her, eyes and heart full, "Never better."
They have coffee and pie and then they move into the sitting room.
There is not a rocking chair in Bobby Singer's heaven, but there is an armchair, and that's where he takes up residence after dinner is done. Joanna sits on the floor at his feet; his boys sit together on the couch, their spouses cleaved to their sides. Karen perches on the arm of his chair, draping her own slender arm around his shoulders, while he wraps his around her waist, and Ellie sits on his lap. Bobby tells his grandchildren the story of the apocalypse, both girls have Castiel's piercing stare, and they and their papa stare enraptured by the tale (though, as Dean says "Cas you lived it" "I enjoy Bobby's narrative"). Sam and Dean jump in to add and critique; Karen laughs at their squabbling, Jessica swats at their heads and Castiel rolls his eyes exuberantly. Bobby tells them to hush up. Ellie falls asleep well before the tale is complete, face pressed into Bobby's shoulder.
There is not a rocking chair in Bobby Singer's heaven, but there is a porch swing, where he and Karen settle after the kids have left. After kisses and hugs and thanks, with promises of "see you soon" and "can't wait to have you girls next week" and "behave yourselves, boys." Sam strolls off across the lawn with his arm around Jess, placing a kiss against her hair. Jo runs off ahead to the Impala, while Dean carries a slumbering Ellie, Cas gently wraps an arm around Dean's waist and the two share a soft smile when they walk off a moment later.
There isn't a rocking chair in Bobby Singer's heaven, but there are happy endings. There is a night sky with stars, and crickets singing their summer song, while fireflies dance across the lawn. There are sons and daughters and grandchildren and love. There is Karen pressed against his side and the promise of laughter and joy, there is here and now and tomorrow. He kisses her hair and she kisses his chest, and that's really all he needs.
AN:
I have been feeling the angst of the season creeping up on me of late and I believe this is the result. I'm going to amend the canonical interpretation of 'heaven' as a moment you have experienced, and more as something that is created out of the ones you love and the things that bring you happiness, whether that's moments you've lived, moments you wish you'd had, or a combination of the two. It just seemed like a good way for everyone to have some shred of happiness. And I honest to god don't know where those girls came from (well I actually have explanations for the logistics of their existence), but they're included because I feel like Bobby's heaven would include a happy domestic Dean, and a happy domestic Dean, in my mind, would include a couple of kids. Family don't end with blood is a big part of this story, and I really do believe that Karen would adopt those boys and their spouses and their kids like they were her own just as much as Bobby has. I hope that you enjoyed this.