Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me. The original character of Evelyn Winchester does.
A/N: The second Evy drabbles story! This one features Evy and Bobby, with a little bit of John mixed in. The one in the middle's a little long, but I didn't want to shorten it any more than I already did. Enjoy!
Seven Months Old
Fussy babies were not on Bobby Singer's list of things he liked to do. But that was the predicament he currently found himself in. John had Dean with him, and Sam was down the road at the local park, playing soccer. Bobby had convinced him to go, that it would be good for him get out and play with some kids his own age.
You enjoying eating your words now, Singer?
Lost for what else to do, Bobby walked outside with Evy. He saw the old rocking chair in the corner, one he'd never even used. His wife Karen had bought it on a whim a couple of days before she died. John's girlfriend and Evy's mother, Missy, had used it often, especially towards the end of her pregnancy. Bobby sat down in it carefully, and started rocking back and forth slowly. Evy's fussing calmed down, and she looked up and cooed at Bobby.
"Is that all you wanted?" Bobby asked with a smile. "Somebody to hold you? Pay attention to you?"
Evy smiled, and after a minute or two, her eyes started getting heavy.
"I ain't singing to you." Bobby said. "You want that, you're gonna have to wait for Sam."
Evy cooed contentedly. Bobby offered her his finger, which she took and grabbed as tightly as she could. He watched her for a minute, relieved she'd stopped fussing and crying. Evy examined his fingers as if she was fascinated by them. Soon enough, she fell asleep, holding Bobby's finger the same way she held onto Sam and Squish. When Bobby took her back inside and laid her down, he put Squish next to her and wrapped her in a blanket. Chuckling, he said to her,
"Damn if you ain't got my heart, kid."
Two Years Old
"Unca Baby?"
Bobby stirred at the sound of the voice calling for him.
"Unca Baby, wake up. Pease?"
His first instinct was to pull the gun he had in his side, but that quickly faded when he saw that it was Evy standing next to him, not an intruder. Bobby sat up and rubbed the bridge between his nose, then checked the clock on the wall. It was three in the morning. Evy looked upset, holding Squish in one arm and biting her bottom lip. Bobby sighed and ran a hand through his hair, exhausted.
"What's the matter, Baitfish?"
"I had a bad dweam." Evy said. "A scawy one."
"Why didn't you go to Sam?"
"He still sick." Evy said. "Unca Baby, I scawed."
"Come here, Baitfish."
Bobby opened his arms and invited her to come to him. She took his invitation eagerly, climbing up into his lap and cuddling up to his chest. Sam had been a snuggle bug as a kid, but he'd been nothing compared to Evy. This kid craved attention and affection like other kids craved sugar. Once she'd calmed down, Bobby asked,
"You want to talk about it, Baitfish?"
"No." She said with a yawn. "Jus' want hugs."
Bobby chuckled. "I can do that. You know you're safe with me, right? I won't let nothing hurt ya."
"I know, unca Baby." Evy yawned again. "I stay here? Seep with you?"
"Sure thing, Baitfish." Bobby said. "Sleep tight, kiddo."
"Loves you, unca Baby." Evy said. "Night night."
"Goodnight, Baitfish." Bobby said. "Love you too, kid."
Nine Years Old
As the Impala drove away, Evy's heart ached. She'd waited all day to hear 'Happy Birthday', and it just wasn't going to come. She tried not to cry, but it hurt. The only comfort she found was in the fact that Sam had promised to call that night. There was no way he forgot.
Evy sat down to do her homework, the tears blurring her vision and making it hard for her to finish. She jumped when the phone rang. She waited, and sure enough, whoever called hung up and called right back. She answered on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Baitfish!" Bobby answered. "Happy birthday!"
Despite her earlier misery, Evy smiled. "Thanks, uncle Bobby."
Bobby immediately picked up that something was wrong. "What's the matter, Baitfish?"
"Nothing." Evy lied.
"Baitish…" Bobby said, when suddenly it hit him. "Where's your daddy?"
Evy thought about lying, but Bobby was likely to make her bring John to the phone if she did. "He left. On a hunt."
Bobby had a bad feeling he knew where this was going. "What'd he do for your birthday?"
"Dean said he'd bring me a cake tonight when he got back. Sammy sent me some books."
"And your dad?" Bobby insisted.
Evy choked back a sob. "I think he forgot."
Damn you John. "When'd he leave, Baitfish?"
"About fifteen minutes ago."
"Alright. You wait right there. I'll call you back."
"Okay."
Evy hung up and waited, but Bobby didn't call right back, so she started working on her homework again, then writing in her journal. She was down to her last page, so she made the entry short. A key turned in the front door. Evy turned around. She gasped; standing at the door was her father, with a pizza box in one hand and a present in the other.
"Daddy?"
"Happy birthday, little one." John said. "You didn't think I forgot, did you?"
Evy jumped up and wrapped her arms around her dad's waist. John put the pizza on her bed, and took her to the living room, where she tore into her present-a brand new journal. Dean arrived home with her birthday cake. After two hours of paying all their attention to Evy, and the fifth course of "Thank you, Daddy!" and "Thank you, Deanie!", John was kissing Evy goodnight.
"Did you have a good birthday, little one?"
"Yeah, Daddy, that was great! Thank you!" Evy said again.
"You're welcome." John said. "Good night."
"Good night, Daddy. Good night, Deanie."
John watched as Evy walked back to her bed. He had been annoyed having to come back home, but her reaction had made it worth it. Bobby's call earlier still rang in his ears. Get your ass back home, idjit. I'll take the hunt. It's your kid's ninth birthday, and everybody remembered except you. And don't tell her I told you, either. John was shaken out of his thoughts by a pair of arms around his neck. "I love you, Daddy."
"I love you too, little one. Time to go to sleep."
"'Kay." Evy said, kissing John's cheek again before going to her room. As she laid in bed that night, she somehow knew who was behind her father's sudden return. "Thanks, uncle Bobby." She whispered, turning over and finally going to bed.
Thirteen Years Old
As worried as Evy was about her father, she was excited. She hadn't seen Bobby since was nine years old, over four years earlier. She had memories of long, peaceful days at his house, feeling loved and cared for, feeling like she was safe and secure. When Dean parked the car, Evy jumped out of it and ran up to the front door, ignoring Sam's gentle reprimand to wait for them. The door opened, and Evy broke out in a grin at the sight of the gruff, rough around the edges Bobby. He looked a little older, but otherwise the same. He started to say something, then stared in awe.
"Baitfish?"
Evy's grin grew wider. "Hey, Bobby."
"Son of a bitch. You grew damn near a foot. Get over here."
As Sam and Dean were walking up the steps, Evy grabbed Bobby around the waist. For a minute, everything else melted away, and she was happy again. Bobby patted her back and kissed the top of her head.
"It's good to see you, Baitfish."
"You too." Evy said. "Love you, Bobby."
"I love you too, Baitfish." Bobby said. "Come on, let's go find your dad."
