"Sam! Get a move on!" Dean sighed, leaning against the open door. It had been a rough few days, and they were both rearin' to go... to get on the road... to feel nothing but the rumble of the engine and the hum of tires on pavement.
"Thanks, Bobby. For everything." Sam's voice lacked any and all of it's usual warmth, greasy hair laying lank against his pale face. He clapped the older man on the back, adjusting his duffle strap before following his brother's orders and stepping down the stairs, wet wood squeaking slightly beneath the rubber soles of his boots. The older hunter sighed, shaking his head as the door slammed, old Chevy peeling outta the drive like a bat outta hell.
Those boys were takin' the death a' their daddy hard. You could see it in the way Dean held himself, the way Sam spent long spells just sittin'... quiet in the unnatural, rubbin' at his chin and moaning. It hit them hard. Harder than he would have expected, especially Sam.
Dean pressed the gas pedal near to the floor, white knuckling the steering wheel. Sam rubbed at his eyes, yawning. Cutting a sidewise glance at his brother, Dean pulled them off at the nearest exit, pulling into a gas station. He steps out of the car, dragging a hand down his face. He wants to feel nothing... to be numb... to remember nothing...
He slaps the wad of cash on the counter, ignoring the cashier's smirk, his snarky comments about relationships gone wrong, scraping the bottles off the counter, carrying them to the car as if they are his lifeline. Sam looks up, surprised, as the bottle lands in his lap, question in his gaze as Dean squeals the tires, heading to the nearest motel.
Dean grabs the bags, pushing Sam inside, grabbing the back of his jacket as he stumbles. They sit, shoulder to shoulder, not speaking as they drink, occasionally brushing shoulders to raise a bottle to pale lips, jaws clenched tight with grief.
Bobby Singer slaps a worn baseball cap against his thigh, shaking his head as he starts for his truck. He can't let his boys do this to themselves. He promised John he'd look after 'em the first time they were dropped at his door, and he didn't intend to stop 'till his heart quit beatin' and he quit this earth. He speeds through the night, screeching into the parking lot as he catches sight of the Impala, gleaming in the rain, parked at the furthest room from the office. He steps into the night, squaring his shoulders as he faces the door.
They flinch as the door is forced open, Dean pulling a knife from his boot. "Put that down, boy, 'fore ya hurt yerself!" Bobby orders, slamming the door behind him.
"Bobby..." Dean's expression turns to disbelief as he staggers backwards, bumping into the bed. Bobby's expression takes a turn of sadness as he pushes the boy down. "SIt down 'fore ya fall down, Dean." he yanks Sam up by the collar, forcing him down by his brother. He yanks the bottle from Sam's hand, tossing it in the trash before frowning sternly down at them both. "Now listen, the both of ya! Yer Daddy's dead, ain't nothin' ya can do about that, but there is one person left who still cares about you two idjits. Don't make the mistake of thinkin' there ain't. Now get yer stuff."
The boys are silent as they shuffle uncoordinatedly outside, and Dean frowns as an arm is flung across his chest as he makes for his Baby. "Bobby?" Bobby shakes a head, pushing him towards his truck, ignoring the complaints. "You two shut yer pie holes. Yer drunker'n a coupla frat boys on Halloween..." he mutters, cranking the old engine.
The worn stuffing on the old sofa creaks as the two bodies sink down, heads hanging as they steadfastly examine their bootlacings. Bobby shuts the door, turning to face John's boys. He scratches a bit at his beard, shuffling his feet a bit as he sorts out the talking to he's going to give them.
"Look, boys… I know yer Daddy and I weren't exactly best girlfriends or nothin'… but just remember that John wasn't yer only father on this green orb, and I'm here for ya, whatever happens. Yer my boys too."
And yeah, maybe Dean teared up a little, but seeing the smile spit across his little brother's face for the first time in a long time, made it worth it.
And as Bobby pulled his boys in for a hug, something finally felt like it was going right for the Winchesters.