Bobby adjusted the ball cap on his head and looked the man in the eye. "John never talked about no father."
"My son and I weren't exactly on what you would call the best of terms after that wife o'his died." The elderly man stood tall and put his hands on his hips squaring off with Bobby. The stare he fixed Bobby was one John had fixed him years ago, the one that said 'give me what I want or get the hell out of the way while I get it for myself'. And that was never a stare to mess with.
"How did you find me?"
"A man out in Montana said that if anyone would know where to find my son, you would be the man."
"I ain't in the business of giving out information."
"Appreciate that. You know where my kid is or not?" Bobby stood there for a second and contemplated just out and out telling the man that his kid was dead, sending the man away, and never telling him that his grandsons were here. Sam and Dean had had so many issues with the last man who had come to town owning the biological term of grandfather that Bobby didn't know how well they would react to another. But Bobby knew how much family meant to them, Dean most of all, and he couldn't make himself turn the man away, no matter how beneficial it might be in the long run…Bobby knew that in the short term, that all it would earn Bobby was an angry Dean Winchester…and that was like pissing off a hornet's nest.
"Come this way." Bobby finally said and led Andrew Winchester to the garage in which Dean was working. It wasn't Bobby's place to say or not say anything. He'd leave that to Dean.
SNSNSNSNSN
"Yes, Mr. Thompson, this is Dean from Singer Salvage….yes…I'm the one working on your 1970 Plymouth GTX, and I wanted to check with you before I spent money on a part…." Dean paused and the side door to the garage opened and Dean turned, saw Bobby, with what he figured was a customer, and turned back to the pad of paper he was holding. "Yeah…it will be well over 300 dollars. I just wanted to check with you, because it will go over the quoted price Mr. Singer gave you. Okay… Okay…will do…you're welcome. Good Bye." Dean turned off the phone and put it back on the receiver and began hunting up the number to the salvage yard in Nebraska who had the part he needed.
"Dean?" Bobby said trying to keep his voice even.
"Mr. Thompson said it was good. He knows it's over the estimate you gave him."
"That's good son, but I want you to meet someone." Dean turned around, green eyes confused, and looked up at the man behind Bobby, he nodded to him and said "sir" and gave Bobby his full attention.
"This is Andrew Winchester." Dean looked up at the man and then back at Bobby.
"You're Dean?" the older man said softly.
"Yes, sir, I am. What does it matter to you?"
"I haven't seen you since you were three years old."
"Good for you?" Dean said confusedly. "Who is this guy?" Dean asked Bobby.
"He is looking for your daddy."
"What do you want with my father?" Dean asked. Too many bad guys had taken the form of family in the last couple of years and Dean was going to hold his cards close to his chest, he wanted to know more about this guy before he confirmed or denied anything about John Winchester.
"He's my son."
"John's father is dead."
"I'm right here." Dean distrusted the hopeful look in the older man's eyes. John's father was dead that's what he had been told all of his life. And if this guy was back from the dead, Dean needed a reason, and he wasn't going to trust this guy on the blind faith of family bloodlines. Dean had learned his lesson.
"Let me see your driver's license." Bobby tried to hide his surprise. Out of all of Dean's possible reactions, asking for a form of photo ID had not been on Bobby's short list of possible Dean reactions-hitting, yelling, threatening, now those had been on the list.
The older man didn't hesitate to pull out his wallet and provide Dean with photo ID. Dean held it up under the light, checked the name, checked everything, he'd forged enough of these to know a real from a fake. When he had completed his examination he handed it back to Andrew.
"What do you want?"
"I want to see my son."
"You haven't seen him in, what? 28 years? And you are just now hunting him down. Give me a break." Dean said and turned away from the man and continued to look for the number for the salvage yard in Nebraska that had the part he needed.
"What? That's it? You check my ID, and you what? Decide you aren't going to tell me where my son is?" Andrew was getting angry, he'd been looking for his son for 20 years, and now he was so close, hell he was staring at his grandson, and this little punk wasn't going to tell him where John was? All Andrew saw was red.
"You don't deserve to know anything."
"Dean Isaac Winchester." He said angrily. Dean spun around, furious at the use of his full name by a man whom he had never known, never met, and who had never cared enough to do anything to save Sam or himself from a childhood of hunting. Dean took one stride and planted himself right in front of Andrew, and there were demons that had cowered at the stare that Dean was fixing Andrew.
"Do not address me as if you know me. Do not waltz in here pretending to know anything about my family or me. You've not been around for the last 28 years, you can stay gone."
"And who dictates that you are the keeper of the family?" Andrew shot back, un-flapped by Dean's threat.
"Your son did. When he put my brother in my arms and said to watch out for him. I became the keeper of my family, and you best better remember that. You found the way in, you can find the way out." Dean growled. Dean's anger was so palpable that Bobby had to resist the urge to take a step back.
Andrew seemed to consider this information for a moment and then he took a small step back, giving some respect to Dean's authority. "You can growl at me all you want boy. I'm even going to leave. But I'll be back every single day until you tell me where my son is." With that, Andrew took his leave of Dean and Bobby, the door slamming behind him.
Dean spun around and started throwing papers all around the area he had laid claim to earlier in their stay as "his office".
"Dean?" Bobby began gently.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Dean…"
Dean stopped his frantic searching, pressed his palms against the desk in front of him, head hanging down, "Not now, okay, Bobby. Please." He asked gently. "Just let me work."
"Okay. Okay." Bobby said. "I'll be in the yard if you need me."
"Okay. Thanks."
"Sure." The door shut in Bobby's wake and Dean sat down in the rolly chair that was behind him and put his head in his hands. Another grandparent. Another agenda. And this time, his brother wasn't full speed, and he couldn't have someone else preying on what was left of his family.
SNSNSNSNSNSN
Dean worked in the yard for an hour or so, and then headed inside, to check on Sam. Sam was sitting on the phone, with his head on the table, tapping his forehead gently against the countertop.
"Yeah…really….three demons? Wow…I had no idea that demons didn't like mustard…." Dean chuckled a little. Sam was still on the phone with Holbrook, and from the sounds of it he had been stuck for quite some time.
Dean turned on the faucet and the sound startled Sam, and he turned around, Dean gave him an amused smile as he washed his hands, Sam gave him the sign for 'kill me now.' And Dean chuckled. He dried his hands on a towel and took the receiver out of Sam's hand.
"Hey Holbrook…Yeah…Dean Winchester…Sam has to go now. Yeah. He'll call you back when he knows something. In the meantime, why don't you go figure out if you can pack mustard into bullets that might help the demon thing. Kay. Bye." Dean pressed 'off' and turned to his little brother.
"You've been on the phone with him this whole time?"
"Oh God. Yes. He wouldn't let me go."
"You're too nice." Dean said with a smile, because he could remember a time when he longed for his little brother to be 'too nice' again.
"Yeah well whatever. You get much done?" he asked as he began sorting through the paper that was on the table in front of him.
"Yeah." Dean went to the refrigerator, grabbed a beer and leaned against the countertop by the sink. "Andrew Winchester came looking for Dad." Dean said and took a long drink.
"Who?"
"Dad's dad."
"I thought he was dead."
"Me too."
"Why would he be here?"
"Says he's looking for Dad."
"Demon?"
"Didn't test."
"Brought back from the dead?"
"No. His driver's license is accurate and current. It's been worn in a way that only happens when it's been in a wallet a while. So, guy is at least not been dead and resurrected."
"What is up with all of these long lost relatives coming out of the woodwork? It ain't like we have money or anything."
"True."
"What do you think he wants?"
"I don't know. I told him to go away. I don't care what he wants, we don't need him in our lives."
"Dean…"
"Don't you dare give me the 'he's family' speech."
"But he is."
"I've had my fill of extended family."
"But this is from Dad's side. The non-hunting side."
"I don't know Sammy. I just told him to leave."
Sam's brows knitted in confusion. "I wish you would have gotten me first."
"No one is getting to you until I know they are 100% safe. I'm not letting anyone hurt you ever again."
"Dean, I'm okay."
"No you're not. You space out, you scream in your sleep, you're pale, you're sad, you're tired, you aren't okay. And that's because I trusted someone I shouldn't have. I let my guard down, trusted, and look at what he did to you."
"I trusted Cass too…I thought he was our friend."
"Well obviously power trumps friendship, and I don't know what this guy's agenda is but it can't be innocent, and I'm not going to let him near you until I know for sure what he wants from us."
"Dean.." Sam tried to reason.
"No. Enough. End of story. I'm the eldest and I know what's best!"
"I thought we agreed we were equal in this."
"We are when it comes to everything else. But I'm the head of the family now…"
"Dean, stop it." Sam shook his head and stood. "Dude, you have to ease up. What if this guy is good? What if he really is Dad's dad? What if he doesn't know his boy is dead? We don't know."
"You're right. We don't. And I don't want to know." Dean put the beer on the counter and turned towards the door. "Call me if you need me. I have my cell." Sam sighed and shook his head.
