Déjà Vu All Over Again
By Magicsunbeam
Genre: Angst/ H&C.
Rated: T for odd, mild swear words
Summary: When the boys call on Bobby after an arduous hunt, Dean's condition triggers a long forgotten memory for the older hunter.
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Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine. It and everything in it belongs to lucky old WB.
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************************SN***********************
The Lights Are On
"What?"
Despite his weariness, Dean Winchester smiled into the phone.
"Hey, Bobby."
"Dean? Is that you?" Bobby Singer asked.
Dean smiled again as the gruffness in his friends voice disappeared and was replaced with a warmer tone.
"The one and only." he replied. "We were in the neighbourhood and thought we'd maybe drop by, if that's ok?"
"Sure it's okay; you boys are welcome here anytime, you know that. Is everything alright with you and Sam? You're not in trouble or anything?"
Dean laughed openly. "Bobby, we're almost ALWAYS in trouble, but not today. We just finished a job and could do with a little down time, that's all. We realised how close you were and thought…"
"Sure, boy. How far are you away?"
"`Bout an hour or so."
"Okay. The lights are on for you. You take care getting here and I'll see you in a while."
"Sure thing Bobby, and thanks."
Dean punched the disconnect button and dropped the cell phone into his lap before wiping a hand across his tired eyes. Breathing a sigh, he glanced enviously at his brother. Sam was curled up in ball against the passenger door, his arms wrapped around his torso and was snoring softly. Fighting a yawn, Dean leaned across and pushed in a tape. AC/DC poured from the speakers filling the Chevy with Highway To Hell.
"Yeah!" the older Winchester grinned happily.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Bobby Singer sat for a moment staring at the phone in his hand. He was happy to hear from Dean and even happier that he'd be seeing the boys soon, but he was a little concerned that the kid had sounded so washed out.
"We just finished a job and could do with a little down time, that's all."
That's all.
For the Winchester boys, it didn't exactly mean they were coming in hot - more like coming in a little warm, but still, it could mean a whole heap of trouble.
"Aw, hell." The old hunter groaned as he climbed to his feet and went in search of a first aid kit.
******************SN*******************
That's All
Bobby heard the growl of the Impala long before he saw the sleek black chevy clear the tree line and begin to make it's way up the drive. Rumsfeld, the hunters Rottweiler silently joined his master on the porch and pushed his head into Bobby's hand. Unconsciously, Bobby scratched the big dogs ear as the car drew up to the steps and slowed to a stop.
Sam was first out of the car; a big smile on his face.
"Hey, Bobby. How're you doing?" He asked, bounding up the steps to hug the older man.
"Good to see you, Sam. It's been a while. I'm okay." Bobby answered, returning the hug. "What brings you boys this way? Spirit? Demon?"
"Wendigo." Dean replied as he wearily approached the porch steps.
"Ah. That would explain why you look like crap. Tracking the damn things through the woods at all hours of the day and night; not the easiest of jobs."
"No sir." Dean agreed, suddenly stumbling as he took the first step.
Bobby reacted with a quickness that belied his age; reaching down he grabbed Dean's jacket before he had a chance to kiss the decking.
"Easy, kiddo. You're supposed to LIFT your feet." he teased.
"It's been a long day." Dean grinned with embarrassment as Bobby helped him regain his balance.
"So I see." Bobby scowled, taking hold of Dean's chin and studying the bruising around his right temple and the nick above his eyebrow.
Dean pulled away irritably.
"I'm fine Bobby; just missed my footing, that's all."
"That's all."
There it is again, Bobby thought. Two words that in Winchester-speak usually meant something else completely.
"Okay. First things first." The older man said, pushing Dean toward the front door. "Who's hungry?"
*******************SN********************
A Good Little Soldier
Sam watched, half asleep, as the flames licking lazily at the fire back. His belly was full, the aches of the days hunt had been eased by good drugs, he was warm and comfortable. He glanced in his brother's direction and smiled. Judging by the way he was lay flat out on the couch; his face slack, his breathing slow and even, it looked as though Dean was equally as satisfied.
Bobby sat in his armchair, an ever present book in his lap. As he quietly watched the scene before him, he found it reminded him of something. Something that had happened years before; something that stirred up a long forgotten fury.
1988
Bobby opened the front door to an agitated John Winchester. He stood with five year old Sam lax in his arms, the kid's head on his father's shoulder, a Spiderman doll in his hand. 9 year old Dean stood three steps behind his father. As John crossed the threshold, Bobby smiled down at the boy.
"Hey there, son. You coming in?" He asked.
Dean hesitated for a moment before hurrying by without a word. The kid's uncertainty surprised Bobby. Dean Winchester was the most confident kid he'd ever met, sometimes confident to the point of annoyance. Tonight the boy seemed unsure - almost anxious.
"Thanks for this, Bobby. I know you've got things to do, but I appreciate you taking care of the boys for me."
John's voice interrupted Bobby's concerns for Dean.
"What is it you said you were hunting?" Bobby asked as he watched his friend lay an oblivious Sam on the couch.
"Wendigo. It's been killing hikers in some woods upstate. I tried to get it yesterday; almost had it too, but…."
Bobby saw John glanced at Dean, noting the brief flash of disappointment. He also noted the boy immediately dropped his head to avoid eye contact with his father.
What the hell was that about?
"The job's only a couple of hours away, Bobby. I should be back just after sun up." John continued before turning to Dean. "What are you waiting for? Take off your coat and sit down."
Bobby watched as without a word, Dean shrugged out of his coat. As he pulled his right arm through the sleeve, Bobby noticed the boy wince. It was nothing huge and Dean tried to cover it up right away, but it had plainly hurt him. It was then that Bobby realised the kid was a little paler than normal and that there was a bruise running along the hairline by his right temple.
"John, what happened to the boy? Where'd that bruise on his head come from?"
"He took a fall yesterday. It's nothing serious, Bobby. He's fine. Right Dean?"
"Yessir." The answer was immediate, if not wholley convincing.
Just like a good little soldier. Bobby thought sourly.
"Okay. Listen up kiddo." John addressed his son a little gentler. "You take care of your brother, do as Bobby tells you and stay out of trouble. Understand?"
Dean nodded.
"Alright." The hunter sighed. "I'll be back in the morning. Get some sleep."
Bobby followed John as he headed for the door.
"You're sure Dean's okay, John? He looks a little pale."
"He's not concussed and he's on his feet, Bobby. He just needs some rest and he'll be fine." John replied as he walked to the Imapla. "Thanks again for this. I appreciate it."
Bobby brushed him off. "It's okay. Be careful and I'll see you when you get back."
John smiled momentarily before slipping into the car. The engine roared to life and Bobby watched as it peeled away from the house and into the waiting darkness.
Grunting to himself, he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and turned back to the house. Something wasn't right; Bobby knew that. As yet he couldn't put his finger on what it was, but he was determined he was going to find out.
***********************SN************************
You With Me?
A crackle from the fire brought Bobby from his reverie. He looked across to Sam who was now slumped in the chair, eyes closed and snoring softly. A low groan brought his attention to Dean and he frowned. The boys face was flushed, pinched with pain and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. He was also shivering lightly despite the room being warm.
Bobby got up and went to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water and couple of Tylenol. For a moment he just stood there; taking the opportunity to scrutinize without being caught out. Dean hated being fussed over. It embarrassed him to be seen as weak or helpless. The only time he liked being the centre of attention was when there was a pretty girl involved.
Bobby placed a light hand on Dean's brow. Satisfied there was no fever, he pushed the younger mans shoulder gently.
"Dean."
Hazel slits appeared as Dean tried to open his eyes.
"Bob`y?" he croaked, unconsciously lifting a hand to his sore head.
Bobby smiled sympathetically. "Yeah, its me. I need you to take some pain pills. You think you're up to it?"
Dean grunted in reply and started to push himself up. As he came up right, his world tilted and he swallowed hard.
"Shit." he hissed.
Bobby put a steadying hand on Dean's shoulder, holding it there until he was sure he wasn't going to pass out or throw up.
After a long moment, in which all Dean could do was swallow and breathe, Bobby gave his shoulder a squeeze.
"You with me?"
"Mmm."
"Here, take these then you can go back to sleep."
Dean opened his eyes and squinted at the pills in Bobby's palm.
"There's just Tylenol. They'll help with the drums you have beating in your head."
Trying not to let Bobby see how much his hands shook, Dean took the pills, downed them quickly then sagged back down onto the cushions.
"Thanks Bobby." he sighed, his eyes already closing.
Bobby smiled affectionately. "Get some rest, son."
The fact that Sam hadn't so much as stirred during the whole pill exchange didn't go un-noticed with the older hunter. There was no doubt that the Winchester boys were totally in tune with one another, so for Sam to sleep on spoke of the cost the hunt for the Wendigo had had upon them both. There was also no doubt that since they had reappeared in his life, Bobby had become closer to the Winchester boys; even more so since their dad had died. He was glad Dean had called; glad that the boys were comfortable enough to rely on him. To turn to him when they needed help.
"Family don't end with blood." he told the boys, making himself comfortable in his chair once more.
And they slept on, oblivious.
******************SN*******************
Don't Let It Get Me
"You hungry, Dean?" Bobby asked as he entered the room.
"No, sir." the boy replied with a slight shake of his head.
Bobby gave him a look of mock surprise. "You're sure? I thought you boys were always hungry; at least that's what your daddy tells me."
"Yes, sir, I'm fine. We ate on the way."
"Okay. Did your daddy give you something for your headache?" Bobby asked casually, almost laughing aloud at the startled look on Dean's face.
"I… I'm… Yessir. It's alright."
Bobby nodded his approval.
"Okay son, but do me a favour; don't call me `sir`. It makes me feel old."
A ghost of a smile crossed Dean's pale face. Bobby saw it and grinned. He knew on any given day he'd get a smart mouthed comeback, but today the kid was definitely off his mark. He checked Sam was okay and covered him with a blanket.
"If you want, there are some books should suit you in the corner there." He nodded toward the fireplace.
Dean shook his head. "I'm just going to go to sleep. Sammy gets up early."
"Alright." Bobby agreed, covering the boy with another blanket as he settled down beside his brother. "If you need anything, just holler."
Dean mumbled an answer, already half asleep.
~*~*~*~*~
Something brought Bobby from his sleep. He listened intently for whatever had woken him, but the only sounds he heard were the crackling of the fire and the deep ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.
Then a quiet whimper grabbed his attention. He looked across at the couch to find Sam was dead to the world, still hanging onto his treasured Spiderman. Dean didn't look quite as peaceful. In the soft lamp light, Bobby could see sweat beading on the boys face and he was panting a little.
"Dad…"
It was one word, but Bobby heard the fear in it. He got up from his armchair and knelt beside the couch.
"Dean." He gently pushed the boys shoulder. "Come on, buddy. You're dreaming, time to wake up."
Dean turned his head toward Bobby. Slowly, two glassy eyes appeared, looking straight through the hunter.
"Dad…m'sorry…it's… no, please…"
Bobby placed a hand on Dean's brow and frowned at the heat present.
"Oh, that's just great." he muttered as he got up and headed to the bathroom.
He returned a moment later with a cold wash cloth and pressed it gently to Dean's forehead.
Dean turned his face to Bobby, leaning into his touch. "M'sorry…too quick… Wen`go… dad…"
"Hey, hey. It's okay Dean." Bobby soothed, dropping a hand to the boys shoulder.
Immediately, Dean gasped in obvious pain.
"No, no… dad, help… please don't let it get me..."
Alarmed by the response, Bobby quickly tried to calm the boy by placing a firm hand on the boys chest. With a few soothing words, Dean began to settle and it was then Bobby saw the pink stain on the shoulder of his Tee shirt.
Once he was sure Dean was asleep once more, Bobby carefully lifted the Tee and found a square of gauze taped to the boys shoulder. As gently as he could he lifted the gauze away to reveal a gash. The wound didn't appear to be deep, but it was roughly 5 inches long and was oozing pink, watery blood.
"Son of a bitch!" Bobby cursed as he realised what he was looking at.
The damn fool must have taken Dean on the hunt for the Wendigo. How else would that explain the claw like slash on the boys shoulder? Then there was the look of disappointment from John and the uneasiness - now clearly guilt - from Dean. What the hell was Winchester thinking? Dean was too young to go hunting, and for of all the things - a Wendigo!
"God dammit, John,! You freakin` idiot!"
Reaching for his ever present first aid kit, Bobby began to change the dressing. He was almost finished when Dean began crying out again.
"No! Dad, help me! DAD!"
"Dean, you're okay, its just a dream." Bobby soothed, trying once more to wake him.
A second later, Dean lurched upright and tried to scramble away.
Bobby backed off allowing the boy some breathing space. He watched patiently until slowly, recognition and awareness returned to Dean's eyes.
"You with me, son?" He asked sympathetically.
Dean scarcely nodded before suddenly throwing himself into Bobby's arms. Surprised, Bobby hesitated for heartbeat and then carefully folded the sobbing boy into a gentle embrace. Pressing his cheek to the top of Dean's head, he rocked him slowly back and forth.
"Shh. It's okay, kiddo. You're safe here." he vowed.
****************SN******************
Déjà Vu All Over Again
"Sam."
The word was barely more than a whisper, but it was loud enough to make Bobby turn his attention to the oldest Winchester son. Dean's face was no longer as flushed, but the beads of sweat remained. He reached out and felt Dean's brow; relieved to find there was still no fever. Dean then rolled onto his side and Bobby noticed that even in sleep he wrapped an arm protectively around his ribs.
Rising to his feet, Bobby covertly approached the young hunter. Being careful not to rouse him, Bobby peeled back a corner of Dean's Tee shirt and wasn't particularly surprised to find his ribs were every colour of the rainbow.
Dean stirred suddenly; a frown lining his face.
"Sam… Sam run…God, It's coming!"
Dean jerked himself awake. Bobby watched as he scanned the room, only appearing to relax when he saw Sam asleep in the chair by the fire. The apparently satisfied, he lay back down and closed his eyes.
"Well, if this ain't deja-freakin`-vu all over again!" Bobby muttered in amazement.
Dean turned his head toward the voice.
"Bobby?"
"I'm right here, Dean."
"Thought…"
"You thought what, son?"
There was a considerable pause.
"Thought it was gonna…get me this…ti`m`..." he sighed, asleep before the last word had time to form properly.
Bobby smiled as he covered Dean's sleeping form with a blanket.
"Like I said, kiddo. You're safe here."
End