AN: Hi guys. First, let me say something that I keep forgetting to say. I wanna thanks a lot to you that reviews, reads, alerts and favourites my story. I kept receiving emails, saying that people kept reading and put this story into their alert and favourite story. Thanks guys. And now, since I just found an internet cafe, I'll try to update this story regularly, maybe not everyday but I'll update.

Beta'ed: Green Raven 212. Love your review girl. It's really make my day. Thanks!

Summary: See Chapter 1

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Distant and Faded

Chapter VI

"The family said both of the men were hearing voices for a few days before they committed suicide. And I bet you the last dead boy heard the voice too." Bobby looked up from the white printed paper to his friend with lit eyes. He knew he would love this one hunt because it was too long since his last salting and burning some crazy spirit. Most of his recent hunts were just dealing with ugly creatures and demons. And he started to get sick of their faces.

"So it's a hunt?" John raised an eyebrow, wanting a confirmation from the older hunter.

Bobby's lips curved a little. "It's a hunt."

"Alright then, you get Dean. I'm going to check the guns. We're moving in fifteen minutes."

As the Winchester was about to put a distant from his just seated wooden chair, Bobby's happy face turned serious. "John, wait a minute."

"What?" John's voice was flat, which was the one he used when he sensed something he didn't like.

"Did you talk to him yet?"

It was silence for a few moments before the Winchester shook his head. "I don't think I need to do that anymore. It was being two days, Bobby. And don't you see it? He's getting better. He's back like his old self. And I don't want to ruin it. Everything's going to be okay on its own, Bobby."

Bobby didn't reply straight away. It was not because he didn't know what to say, but he couldn't deny the fact. He saw it himself, Dean was getting better. He didn't know what John did or what was the kid thinking about that night but, he really seemed well.

He talked a lot more than any other day since Sam left. And he started making lame jokes like he used to back then. All the things happened made him realized just how right Jim was, once. The pastor, an old friend of him and John, used to tell him something about the young boy Dean Winchester. And it was years ago but he still remembered it.

"Sometimes, he can make you think that you know him. And some other times, he can make you think that you can read him. But the truth is we're all wrong. We can't predict him. Nobody knows him because sometimes, he doesn't even know himself."

It was a fuzzy one. He always remembered but he didn't really know the meaning of the phrase. But now, he would say that he understood some of it. Dean can't be predictable. We can't always believe what we think about him. It was like playing a crossword, when there was one unknown answer, we could use the other answers to put it together and come out with the one most logical solution to the unknown. But sometimes, even when we thought that we were right, we ended up wrong, because we missed something, either from the beginning or in the middle, or at the end of the game.

But one thing for sure, Bobby just hoped that if they were really wrong, it would be just like the crossword too, that they didn't slip too far from the right answer. That they could still fix things. That they could still put the pieces back together.

Pieces that once was an unbelievably strong bond.

He has a bad feeling about this but he just hoped that John was right. Everything was going to be okay on its own.

"I hope so John. I hope so."

As he saw John's glimpse vanish into the back room, where he dumped his weapons before, Bobby pushed himself up, wondering where the young Winchester was. The last time he saw the boy was when Dean was teasing Rumsfeld with a big piece of meat.

"Hey Bobby!" Bobby startled at the sudden shout from his back. He turned just to see the middle Winchester with a big grin on his face and a bottle of beer in his right hand.

"Damn you boy. Don't you ever do that again. Where were you anyway? We're moving. There's a hunt in Boulder." Bobby said while stepping closer to the young man.

"I'm in the backyard, my car's battery's dead. And I took one of yours, you won't mind right?" Dean looked at the old man teasingly, but his grin replaced with a new frown. Bobby moved way too close to his liking and as he was about to make a comment, the old hunter snatched the green bottle from his hand.

"Hey! That was mine."

"Oh yeah it's yours. But don't you ever think to drink any liquor in my house for a month, boy."

"What?! Why? Okay, if you worried about my concussion, I'm fine now. So what's all about the grounded?"

"Don't you try to play innocent kid. I ain't no fool. You drank three times on concussion right? I count my beer's stock you know." Bobby moved away, sipping the brew with a slight grin he tried hardly to hide. The look on Dean's face was priceless. If Sam was here, they would team up to make a joke out of it.

"Oh come on, Bobby. It's…" Dean stopped at the big wide eyes Bobby shot to him. He sighed, knowing that he couldn't win this one. Mumbling to himself, he strolled lifelessly to his room. But before the door slammed to completely closed, he managed to shout his voice out loud.

"Nobody count their beers grabby old man!"

Bobby laughed at the childish shot. He really missed the old Dean and he was happy now to see the young boy was back to his old self again. What had happened a couple of days before was not over yet, but for everybody's sakes, he would not really mind to hold it for a little while longer.

--

"It's just two states away right? Do you think it's safe to leave dad's truck here? Because I'm pretty sure I'm not going to leave my baby, we're using the Impala." Dean said, trailing Bobby's step from behind.

As he came close to the black muscle car, he pulled the back door open, tossing the two duffle bags he carried into the backseat. Apart from hating the fact that he was going to spend the ride in the backseat of his own car, he'd rather let it happen than leaving his baby in Bobby's ugly and muddy yard alone.

"I'm living here since the first time I saw this freaking world kid. And there's nobody ever step on this porch to steal something from me." A wide proud smile stamped on Bobby's face, wrinkling his wrinkle a lot more, showing the experience in every single line.

"There's a first time for everything Bobby. And didn't I just tell you before that I stole your battery?" Dean grinned while moving around the car, putting a distance between them. He was used to get a slap behind his head for teasing the old guy and it was the first thing he reminded himself before making any fun to the hunter.

"Don't be a smart-" before he could finish, Bobby was cut by a raw voice behind them.

"I just checked your trunk. All the weapons are ready. I assume you guys can finish this in a couple of days. Dean, we'll meet up in Idaho by Monday. I'll tell you the place later." John resumed his step to his truck as he instructed.

"I thought you're going with us?" Dean said. Bobby was trying not to flinch at the words uttered from the youngest. Because that was exactly how Dean sounded when he showed up battered and drunk on his porch a few nights before. He couldn't point out the real word to express the way it sounded before, but now, he knew with his heart.

It was a sound of being betrayed.

"No, Dean. I found another job in Idaho. Both my job and yours just a simple salt and burn. But if we split up, we're not wasting too much time." John replied with a regular tone, not really aware that he just painted up again the same sad colour he almost successfully cleaned up from his son's mind.

Dean looked away from his father's face, trying as hard as he could to hold the sudden emotion from light up on his face. He bit his lower lip while inhaling a shaky breath.

"I found another job in Idaho." He found the job. Not the other way around. He searched it on purpose. He doesn't want to be with me.

"But if we split up, we're not wasting too much time." He wants us to split up because I'm wasting his time.

I thought I was wrong. I thought he's not what I think he was. But…

He does really hate me.

Bobby didn't know why he felt so nervous. He saw the change in Dean's eyes. And he didn't like it. This is not right. This is not what it should be. He thinks that John hates him.

Again.

All of the sudden, Bobby started to feel the urge to help the young boy, who looked emotionally defeated at the other side of the Impala, well maybe it didn't really shown but Bobby knew it. "Hey John. Maybe we should go together. You said yourself, they're both just simple hunts. I think its better-"

"No. This is not a holiday, Bobby. It's not something fun. It's our job. And people's lives are counting on it."

Bobby was about to argue but before he made the thing worse, he managed to stop himself from flew the words. Dean was not going to like it. I'm not going to argue about him in front of his own eyes. He'll think that he's useless. And that's the last thing I need him to think.

"Dean, you got it?" John threw a firm question while opening the driver's door of the black truck. He swore that he saw some uncomfortable feeling written on his friend's face before. He didn't know why but he was certain that Bobby was worrying too much. Dean's fine. And he's a big boy. And why the hell does Bobby worry so much?

Aware that his dad was waiting his answer and steadily studying his performance, Dean made sure that this was one of the best fake acts he ever made. A smile came out as a little smirk swept across his face, while he moved straight away to the driver's door.

"Yes, Sir. Besides, I'm going to drive her. Who wouldn't want to?" Mission accomplished. His voice sounded happy enough to pass over his feelings, getting a nod from his father as the old man seemed satisfied with whatever he needed to satisfy with.

Bobby and Dean just stood still at each side of the Impala as the black vehicle made its way onto the road. As soon as the truck was vanished from his view, Bobby turned to the boy, carrying along the full concern and sympathy. "You okay Dean?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Dean expressed his reply as he dropped himself onto the driver's seat. Bobby sighed, getting the hint clear enough.

Shaking his head a few times, he loosed smoothly into the car, riding shotgun.

This is going to be a long ride.

TBC

I hope, this is not too confusing or boring. Let me know something will ya :)