Author's Notes: Sam's habit of injuring himself winds the boys back to nest at Bobby's for awhile. He's happy as always to have them near, no matter what they're like now. They're still family. He loves them and they love him.

Third, probably last part to this series that was supposed to be a oneshot. It's had way more exposition in it than I usually do. Hope everyone's enjoyed. And as always, reviews are much loved.

Summary: Bobby's POV on his boys as they are now. Dark!Dean Hurt!Sam

Other Roads- Part 3

"Here ya go, boy. Should be everything you need."

Dean spared a distracted 'thank you', but didn't take his eyes off Sam. Neither did Bobby. He ruffled Sam's shaggy hair gently. He felt both heartbroken and touched when Dean only stuttered momentarily in his motions. Anyone else, their arm would've been torn off. Dean trusted Bobby. And not only trusted him, but trusted him with Sam. That made the older hunter something close to a god in their world.

"Call me if you need anything else."

He wouldn't be called. All those two needed was each other. Still, Bobby paused to watch them from the doorway for awhile. Sam's arms and the area around his face and neck were a mess. Slashes criss-crossed every patch of skin from fingertip to shoulder and deep gouges from his fingernails were worn into his neck, collarbone, and one spot on his cheek.

Kid had really done a number on himself this time. He'd been more prone to hurting himself lately in fits of confusion or when he was agitated. He didn't seem to really feel pain anymore, not physical anyway. Dean usually kept such a close watch on him. He must've been distracted by-

Bobby shook his head, breaking off the thought before it could begin. He was no moron. He knew what Dean did, the kind of things he was capable of, but that didn't mean he wanted to spend his time imagining it. He knew what Dean had done to Sam too. He would've figured it out on his own even if that angel he'd been working with hadn't come and told him.

Castiel still kept close to the boys too. Like Bobby, he knew what Dean did, but Bobby supposed a few dozen dead bodies were preferable to the annihilation the apocalypse would have brought. Castiel had told him that there was little threat of the end beginning now. Sam was the only one who could release Lucifer by killing Lilith and he wouldn't do anything his brother didn't want him to. Even the angels who were onboard for the rapture were at a loss.

They couldn't persuade Sam and Dean to act by threatening others; that didn't work anymore. And no matter the damage they could cause to the boys, they knew they couldn't kill them. Every attempt they'd made had cost them soldiers. Taken out by either Dean or Castiel or, in one cataclysmic disaster, Sam.

One angel had gotten too close, almost stabbed Dean with Castiel too far away to prevent it. Sam had stood between his brother and the threat, raising his hand to the doomed angel. Cas said they hadn't been able to find a trace of her, likely scattered across time and space. And when the dust and light had cleared, all that remained was a crater where a small town in Iowa once was and all that was left standing were two brothers and their angel.

Bobby sighed, remembering how tough it had been to cover up the boy's involvement in that disaster from other hunters.

Castiel came around when he could. On business, to share a story or, sometimes, a beer. He wasn't fallen, still every bit the angel he always was. Probably due to being under the Winchester's protection, though, technically, he was their guardian. He was fairly free in his comings and goings to heaven and back. Aside from Bobby, Cas was the only one Dean allowed anywhere near Sam.

Dean was usually so focused on his little brother; it was rare that anything would take his attention to such a degree that the younger boy would be able to slip away and hurt himself like this. These bastards must have really had it coming.

The thought again surprised the hunter. These were humans Dean had killed and probably for nothing more than insulting or threatening Sam. But still, Bobby found he couldn't condemn Dean for it. These two were his boys and Dean was only protecting Sam. Bobby wondered what kind of person it made him that, even if it had been a coven of nuns Dean killed, Bobby would never have sounded an alarm.

Bobby watched as Dean finished with one arm, speaking softly to Sam all the while. He turned and saw the older hunter leaning on the doorframe. He smiled like Dean and Bobby found himself smiling back; if not at the man before him, then at the seven-year-old on his doorstep, kid-brother tucked behind him.

Bobby ambled off to the kitchen to make coffee, to wait until Dean was satisfied Sam was asleep and safe enough to leave the room. He'd share a beer with Bobby and they'd tend to Sam until he was up and about. If he was lucid enough, Bobby could use his help researching a string of murders along the east coast that's cause had been eluding him. No matter how he appeared to others, Sam still knew several languages and was smart as a whip. Dean beamed with pride every time he found an answer or connection, still teased him about being a bookworm. Sam still scowled at the jibes from his big brother, sometimes elbowed him if he was more present and Dean deserved it.

Bobby allowed himself to forget about the bigger picture and just concentrate on his own close-knit, not a drop of blood between them, family, and smiled.

In all the years and cataclysms and journeys-to-hell between those little boys and the men they'd become, the Winchesters remained, really, much the same.