A/N- Running into some internet issues. Basicly I have none in my apt, so I can post whenever I find some good WIFI around. Which I was lucky enough to have today, otherwise it would have been posted sooner. Thank you sooo much to-

My Guest: I've read a few stories where John was abusive, and I don't necessarily hate it, but I do think it is way out of his character. He's not that bad of a guy. Just- doesn't show his love very well.

EmilyAnnMcGarrett-Winchester: I adore Bobby a lot more than John as well. It near killed me when -spoiler- he died. I cried.

ZeldaIsis: I can't tell you how seamless it actually will be on the switch over, but you'll find out. =D Love ya!

lenail125: and of course Sammy is still alive. Even though I find myself a self proclaimed DeanGirl, Sammy always has a soft spot in my heart.

Chapter Two

"Deeeaan! Stop it you jerk."

There was a loud thump from upstairs and Bobby jerked a little dotting his decently clean shirt with meat and sauce.

"Oh ease up you little bitch."

There was another thump.

The spoon in the veteran hunter's hand was put down a little forcefully and splattered perfectly good chili on his otherwise clean counter, but he'd certainly had enough of the bickering. It was usually in good fun. When Sam told Dean to piss off, and Dean referred to Sam as a little bitch it wasn't mean spirited. The boys were having fun, and everything was intended with love. Boys would be boys and all that. But unfortunately even with the clear understanding that they were playfully bickering, he had had enough.

He set his burners down to low and wiped his hand on a hand towel nearby before loudly stomping up the stairs. "Boys!" At the word the loud thumping and the fighting stopped, but it didn't stop Bobby from twisting the knob to the boy's room and open it up rather forcefully. Inside Dean stood equipped with a halo and wings as he smiled brightly at his self-proclaimed Uncle. Sam on the other hand laid in bed his arms crossed, bottom lip quivering in a pout, while he stared at the ceiling.

"I told you to watch your brother, Dean." Bobby stated getting the picture. "Not antagonize him."

"I wasn't-" Dean started but got cut off quickly by Bobby's sharp gaze.

"Now I know you feel a little cooped up. If you'd rather, you could always go outside." Bobby made a point of pointing out the window where a heavy storm brewed for the third consecutive day. Bobby was certain he would have a river around his home if the rain kept coming the way it did.

"He was trying to put a crown on me." Sam wasn't looking at anyone, his face was still flush with the fever that had caused complications in the hospital and had nearly stopped the heart of all three of the men. While it had gone down considerably Bobby and Dean were still mother henning the hell out of the kid. "He made a crown from the box of cereal, and wrote Queen Bitch on it."

"Dean!" Bobby held out his hand to request the offending item. Despite the string of excuses that stuttered out of the older boys mouth the crown made from a box of lucky charms had been deposited in Bobby's hand. "Now, I'm fairly certain you can find some other way of entertaining yourself, Dean. Would you like another book, Sam?"

Sam nodded while Dean scowled. "Come on Bobby. You have no TV, no computer, I can't even head down to the garage in this rain." His expression held while he watched Sam accept the book with Latin delicately scrawled and decorated in gold down to the boy. Sam considered the title before opening to the first page. "I know Doogie Howser can sit around and consume that book shortly, but I require something more entertaining."

"You're right, boy. You could always help me in the kitchen."

Dean made a face. "I'm not a cook, Bobby."

"He really isn't." Sam looked up from the book casually.

"Look runt, shut it." Dean turned and poked a finger threateningly at the boy, but Sam didn't seem to start quivering in his boots. He ducked his head back in the book after giving Dean a quick eye roll. Keeping his eyes on Sam, Dean mulled in thought. "You still have those skin mags?"

"What?" Bobby paused. "You can't mean those decades' old magazines I have in the basement?!"

Dean headed towards the door only stopping to pat Bobby on the shoulder warmly before exiting the room. "Basement. Thanks Bobby."

Bobby didn't bother stopping him. "Don't stick the pages together boy. Some of those are worth something."

Dean's voice was slightly muffled and echoed from the stairway. "Yeah, yeah."

"I'm finishing up dinner then." Having the Winchesters over always made his life interesting, in good ways and bad. This was just one of those situations where he'd try and not remember the complete details. "I don't think you're quite up for my chili quite yet, so I'm going to put some soup on for you." Bobby bent down and felt the boy's forehead pleased that he seemed a bit cooler than he'd originally been that afternoon. "Did you want to stay upstairs? I can always help you down, and you can rest on the couch."

Tired of being contained in the room Sam shut the book and swaddled the blanket around his shoulders. "I wanna join you guys downstairs."

Bobby immediately had the boy up and shuffling out of the room. As they went down the stairs carefully one at a time, Bobby smirked, amused by the overly large socks that consumed the small boy's feet. Once Sam was lying on the couch covered comfortably in the blanket, and the book resting on his chest, Bobby returned to his meal. Dean sometime later came up a stack of magazines tucked under his arm. When he spotted Sam lying on the couch he took the spot just beneath his brother on the ground pointing out interesting pictures every now and again. He only stopped and hunched over the pages hiding them from Sam when Bobby snapped at him from the kitchen.

Their father chose to return after dinner had been eaten and the bowl of chili reserved for him had gotten cold, and he was very clearly drunk. Bobby wasn't as furious about the fact that the man was drunk so much as the fact that Sam and Dean were hardly fazed by it. Dean had assisted his father the best he could as he stumbled into the kitchen. From what the old man saw John wasn't belligerent towards either boy, but in his drunken state, Dean was posing not only as a father to his brother but to his own father as well.

Bobby took John's other arm from Dean and nodded towards Sam. "I got this boy." When Dean glanced up at Bobby hesitation clear in his eyes, Bobby insisted firmer. "You go take care of Sam. No point in you parenting both of them tonight."

He didn't release his father immediately. It took the boy a few good confused blinks before he unclenched his hands from around his father. He simply stepped back and watched detached as Bobby lead John to a wooden chair in the kitchen and forced water in front of the hunter.

"I have him. You get Sam upstairs and prepped for bed." Bobby looked up from nuking the chili. "I'll make sure yer fool dad gets some food and water in him before he collapses."

Bobby watched from the corner of his eye while Dean assisted his brother off the couch and up the stairs.

"I know that look, and before we get into that argument again think better. It's not going to change." John had watched the older man in this whole process and had seen the anger stirring in his gaze. They'd done this so many times before that he didn't need a warning. "They are my boys, and I know what's good for them."

The microwave beeping was the only thing that broke Bobby's stare. Once the bowl was in front of the elder Winchester, Bobby dragged out the chair across from John. "I know you care about them John, but you got to look at it from a different angle. You were just out middle of the day, getting drunk."

"M' not drunk." John stated petulantly as he shoveled a hearty spoonful of chili into his mouth.

"Right- not drunk." Bobby rolled his eyes.

"'N so what if I am. Did you see me hit them? Did I verbally abuse them?" John waved the spoon scattering drops of the food on the table. Another mess Bobby would have to pick up once all the Winchesters were asleep.

"No, but-" Bobby collected his thoughts. "You don't put them first John. No, I heard what you had to say many times." Bobby held up a hand when John started to fight back. "You do not put your boys first. I think you love them. I think you care about them, but the number one thing that you are focused on is getting revenge on whatever killed Mary."

"Damn right. She's dead. It killed her."

"I know. And I'm sorry, but right now upstairs you have two boys- two young boys who are the product of you and Mary. Don't they come first? I know you lost a wife. So did I. But you still have two living, breathing gifts from Mary."

John furrowed his brow. "I take care of them. I love them."

"When was Sam's first steps?" Bobby blurted. "What was Sam's first word? Who took care of Dean when there was a thunder storm?"

"Thunder storm?" John frowned in confusion.

"Yes thunder storm, John. The thing that petrified your boy when he was younger. Every time he was dropped off here and it was storming, he'd be terrified."

John's confused glance turned to disbelief. "Dean's not afraid of thuder…"

"Not anymore. He had to get over it."

"So wha's the problem?"

"John, the problem is that you don't know when Sam's first steps were. You don't know that Sam's first word was Dee, and that Dean was afraid of thunder. You don't know that every time Sam brings home report cards he always shows you how good he's done in Latin. Did you know that Sam has also started to teach himself Spanish? And Dean. He's taken to throwing knives, can bullseye them most of the time. I also recently got him a bow and arrow since the last time he was here he expressed interest in learning." Bobby kept his eyes firmly on Johns.

John didn't say anything.

"And this last hunt. Jesus, John! Dean had to find his brother in a cooler. You saw the complications the boy had in the hospital."

John was finished. Bobby always harped on him. "If he had followed the orders I'd given him-"

"Your youngest would be dead, just like your wife. I understand from a hunter's point of view your logic. Kill the monster first then lick your wounds afterwards, but damn it John, your twelve year old boy on his first hunt was taken by some homicidal spirit, and you thought it was smart to just continue on hunting."

"I am a hunter. I need logic and calm on these cases."

"And your boys need a father, not a hunter with his calm and logic."

John's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

"What I'm saying is, maybe they shouldn't go with you. Maybe they should stay here." Bobby let the comment seep into John's fuzzy head. "They'd still be your boys, and you always have the right to come and see them. But they'd go to school in the same place, and have the same bed to come home to. Dean and Sam could make friends. Hell, Dean for once could have a girlfriend."

"But my boys, they'd be-"

Bobby cut him off. "They would be fine John. Your boys would be fine. When was the last time Sam or Dean asked you for anything besides money before you walked out and hunted? Dean takes damn good care of his brother. He doesn't need you, and anyways you don't seem to need them. The only thing that you seem to focus on his your drive for revenge, and without the kids tagging along you could move whenever you wanted and follow every lead without having to worry about them packing, or setting them up in the next town."

John gave Bobby a dirty look and Bobby simply shrugged. "This is me being a hunter. Logical, and calm."

"They'd get in your way." John fought.

"I wouldn't mind. I've been watching out for the boys since they were little tykes."

"You still have to help other hunters. You don't have the time."

"Sam, and Dean, are both brilliant. I can look up things twice as fast if they help."

"Your food bill will go up."

"I have a business on the side. I make enough money without having to play pool or gamble to get my money."

John scowled. This conversation had never gone this far. Sure Bobby nagged him but in the end Bobby always respected John's right as a parent. "They're MY boys."

"And they can stay your boys. They just stay here and have a normal life in a semi-normal home. Like I said, if you were to pass through, you would always have a room." Bobby put a fatherly hand on the man's shoulder. "John I'm thinking about them. This isn't to persecute you."

"The hell it isn't." John growled he stood up from his chair suddenly knocking it over. "You've been fighting with me about my boys for as long as I can remember. I'm a good dad. I love my boys. I don't see why you feel the need to- to- save them."

"John-" Bobby stopped walking towards the belligerent man when John swung up a fist.

"Sam and Dean would tell me if they need anything, and I'd get them what they need the best I can." John stumbled his face red with rage.

Bobby sighed. "What if Sam wanted you to come to a parent teacher night? Or if Sam wanted to stay in town a little longer to turn in a project or take test." He watched as John's face fell. "What if Dean didn't want to join you on a hunt so he could stay and protect his brother?"

"Sam doesn't ask me to go to those dumb teacher parent things, and he knows that he can always pick up his schooling in the next town. I don't have time to call and tell the monster to stop killing people so my son can finish school. And Dean always joins me on hunts, he never fights back."

"John just listen to me. Please."

"NO! I am done! I am heading upstairs and sleeping. I don't need you and the boys certainly don't need you! We are leaving in the morning whether you like it or not."

xxxOOOxxx

Bobby was jerked awake at the rumble of an engine. He glanced at the clock and groaned at the time. "What the hell is going on?" Bobby sat up and rushed towards the window and jerked back the sun faded curtains his wife had insisted upon years ago.

"Balls!" The curse was harsh and breathless as Bobby didn't mind what little he wore and rushed out of the room and down the stairs in a stumbling run. Bobby wasn't anywhere close to stopping the large truck. He'd barely opened the door when the cars tail lights made the squealing turn out of the lot. He kept staring at the dissipating cloud of dust John had left behind spitting out a string of curses.

Was John alone? He turned his head up to the top of the stairs once he got a grasp on the situation. He thundered back up the stairs two at a time. He hoped that the boys hadn't been taken. Ignoring the fight they'd had last night Bobby hoped to hell that John hadn't packed and rushed his still recovering boy up, and peeled away with the two. Bobby's hand landed on the knob to the boy's room just as Dean pulled it open his hair sleep tousled and his eyes wide.

"Uncle Bobby? What's going on why did I hear dad's truck? Did dad leave?" Dean stood back as Bobby pushed his way into the room glancing at a still snoring Sam, bundled in his blankets. Dean's tone changed to slight disgust. "Why are you wearing Santa boxers?"

"Did John come tell you anything?" Bobby said breathlessly. He only regarded his manner of nakedness for a second turning his attention back to the boys. "At any point in the night did John say anything?!"

Dean's eyes narrowed slightly. "Yeah, about one or two he came in and- well, he apologized."

"Did he say for what?" Bobby demanded.

"No, he just said sorry, then apologized for waking us up and that we should go back to sleep." Dean expanded. He ducked down under the bed and yanked out his shirt from yesterday. "Why Bobby? What's going on? Did dad leave?"

Bobby ran a hand through his thinning hair. "He's probably just acting out. He'll be back, I mean you know your father right?"

"Bobby?" Dean's tone was almost condemning.

"Look Dean, I'm sure everything is fine. Why don't you check up on Sam? Make sure his fever has gone down some." Bobby slipped out of the room and closed it behind him.

It was a low blow to bring up Sam, but he had to check their father's room. Without the boys. His heart dropped into his stomach as he wandered towards the guest bedroom just next to the boy's room. The one John occupied whenever the Winchesters came to visit- or recover. He pulled opened the door and wasn't too surprised to find the man's belongings gone. He was surprised however to find an old spiral notebook and a box sitting on the mattress of the messily made bed. Bobby's heart dropped further when he read the on the half destroyed spiral.

"Balls!" Bobby cursed. Another unsteady hand ran through his thinning hair. "Why the hell did you have to go and do this you idjit. This was not how I wanted to do it. This is not what I wanted."

He scooped up the note and the box and left John's room depositing the box on his own bed. Having only stayed in the room upstairs to remain close to the sick boy, Bobby jerked on his only available cloths (worn yesterday) and closed the door firmly behind him. Last thing he needed was the ever inquisitive Dean to find that damn note.

Downstairs in the kitchen Bobby put his private phone to his ear and dialed John's current number.

"If this is an emergency then leave a message." John's deep baritone voice came over the line after the third ring.

Bobby near lost it. "You damn fool! This is not what I meant. If you had stayed and we could have calmly discussed this I could have explained myself a little more to your sober self. You cannot do this to them. Just come back and we can talk. Please John." Bobby slammed the phone back down and inhaled deeply. "Crap, how do I explain this?"

"How do you explain what Bobby?"

Bobby didn't need to turn around to know Dean was standing in the entrance to his kitchen, seething.

(A/N- Thank you for making it to the end. If you like it or even if you hated something about it, leave a review. You guys are awesome!)