Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. All copyright belongs to the CW and the genius that is Erik Kripke. No harm intended.
Bobby Singer had no clue what he was thinking playing surrogate nanny to a bunch of kids. Scratch that. He could not believe he was assuming the role of caretaker for a stubborn fifteen-year-old who had a concussion, but refused to acknowledge that fact.
"Dean, you have to lay down, you idjit."
"No can do, Bobby."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm dizzy," Dean said, flashing a megawatt smile. "I can't find the couch."
Damn kid was too smart for his own good.
"I'll help you find that sofa, idjit."