(Sorry if it took a while. Long story short, I got in an accident after this jerk ran a red light. My new ADORABLE 2014 yellow car was freaking totaled. Soooo, last couple weeks I have been car buying…again.

Plus I tried to stretch the whole holiday thing, but it was too damn fluffy. So I have a little more added to the chapter.)

Chapter Eight

The wrap up after the hunt didn't take too long. They filled back up the hole and insisted Bobby didn't drive. Dean figured the man shouldn't drive back the three hours. Bobby didn't want Dean driving his precious Chevelle however and so they reached an agreement to spend the evening in a motel room and left in the morning.

Life went on as normal following that. Bobby kept his ears out for anymore about the annoying appearances. But it had been a week and there was nothing from the citizens and hunter community. Bobby also focused on his new curiosity, Mr Robinson. Sam despite going back to school like normal still had Bobby picking him up. Usually his eyes scanned the crowd. The second time he'd finally spotted Mr. Robinson and his shock of blond hair headed towards Sam, Bobby didn't get jumpy. If anything Mr. Robinson appeared a little pale and sickly. Bobby wished he could account for the ill feeling he'd had toward the man that afternoon before the hunt.

A week after the hunt Bobby dropped some good news on the boys. He'd called around and a positive amount of hunters (known and trusted by Bobby) had confirmed showing up at a shortly planned Thanksgiving dinner. Sam remained excited even after Bobby reminded the kid that they could always cancel last second due to a hunt.

Dean didn't get excited, instead he grew somber in remembrance. He went back to the last Thanksgiving he could recall, Sammy was the new baby in mommy's tummy and Dean was crossing his fingers for a boy, not a girl. The one he had been anticipating with the new baby alive had been postponed forever by fire and death. He had tried to make the future Thanksgivings with Sam enjoyable as possible. However rather than a table full of turkey, ham, and the delicious sides, they would order out and get something much more expensive than normal. They did however watch the Thanksgiving Day Parade religiously whenever they could.

"So it'll be like everything? Turkey, stuffing, and cranberries?" Sam asked his excitement palpable. The twelve year old boy had suddenly regressed to the four year old snaggle-toothed curly mop he once had been.

"That, football, and the good ole Macy's Day Parade." Bobby grinned wide, Sam's excitement rubbing off on him. "It's been a while since any of us hunters had really has had a proper Thanksgiving.

Dean smirked. "It would be nice. I don't know that Sammy ever celebrated a proper holiday."

"I always enjoyed them." Sam bumped Dean's shoulder. "They were a bit- unorthodox, but you always made sure that they were something to remember."

The guilt Dean felt at Sam's failed childhood faded for a second. Just like always Sam's small sensitive comment was threatening to gush tears from him. Stupid Sam. "You're such a girl, dork." Dean remedied his warm feeling in his heart by sticking a finger in his mouth and, before Sam could move away from the anticipated move, stick the finger into his little brother's ear.

After a fight, in which Sam ended up in a headlock, and lots and lots of cleaning; the morning had come. Thanksgiving was there and Sam was uncontainable in excitement. Dean woke up to Sam bouncing on his bed chanting parade. Even against Dean's warning, woke up Rufus.

The man had shown up the other evening and shared more than a few beers with Bobby, making him a little uneager to join the world of the living. Even though the man nearly tore off Sam's head, he found his way downstairs with a cup of coffee, watching the Macy's Day Parade with Bobby equipped with an apron and various stirring spoons walking in and out of the kitchen to sneak a peek, Sam bouncing all over the place pointing out balloons, and Dean trying to hide his excitement behind sarcasm. Rufus imagined this was what having a family was like, and thanked the Lord he hadn't fathered any kids or married.

After the parade, Sam jumped in the kitchen to help cook the meal, but got downgraded when Ellen and her daughter showed up. Although still helping, he started following the instructions of the very commanding woman. Jo, Ellen's 10 year old daughter, wrinkled her nose at the notion of playing with the boys or helping in the kitchen, and opted rather to exploring Bobby's home. Bobby couldn't help but grow a little concerned when Ellen felt compelled to remind her girl to stay away from any weapons.

When Sam had outgrown his usefulness and been kicked out of the kitchen, he gave himself the job of doorman. Every time the doorbell rang Sam beat everyone there to give whichever hunter that had arrived a big excited grin and a loud Happy Thanksgiving. He would get different responses. A few of the older men scowled down at the boy and pushed through to find a beer in the fridge. One woman, Bobby had called Annie and hugged for a lengthy time, had crouched down and ruffled the boys unruly mop returning his greeting.

The one to surprise him was an African American couple. He'd thrown the door open and given them his best and brightest greeting only to have the woman clutch her chest and step back to stare. Sam didn't move a little in shock.

"Are you okay?" He had asked a little tentatively.

"She's fine." The man pulled his wife into calming embrace. Sam grew a little unsettled though when the man's eyes settled on him and grew a little sad as well. "You just startled her that's all."

Sam studied the couple for a little multiple questions circling in his head. By the state of the couple he figured that they weren't quite prepared for his inquisitive mind. Instead he stepped inside the house and out of sight from the couple. He stopped by the kitchen to inform his uncle that he had a few new guests, and through Sam's tone Bobby wiped his hands on his apron and nearly sped walked to the door.

Sam lingered close to the door, but out of sight long enough to hear the woman apologize and Bobby inform her that he understood. They had been through a lot, and he should have warned her that there would be someone his age here for the dinner.

The boy's heart dropped. He knew what that meant. Where he had lost his mother, this mother had lost a son. That was probably what led the couple to hunting. If Sam knew one thing for sure it was that hunting was something you joined due to grief and loss. Sam made sure that he'd avoid the couple for the evening. He wasn't quite prepared to cause anyone unneeded sadness on a holiday.

Despite the slight hitch in the day, it went surprising well. Sam continued to introduce two more into the home making the total eight. Regrettably the two Sam hoped would show up couldn't. Pastor Jim was hosting a Thanksgiving for the homeless, and Caleb was miles away on a hunt unable to make it. Sam didn't let it get to him though. The evening was just what Sam imagined a regular Thanksgiving to be; men and women drinking a few beers, laughter, and some tender turkey. When the time came, the channel switched back and forth between football games, college and professional.

Sam understood that people got very emotional over sports, but the verbal arguments and raised voices between the crowd even surprised him. Apparently one of the matches had two rivals; Minnesota Vikings and Detroit Lions. Bobby very proudly cheered for the Vikings, and Rufus (Sam imagined just to piss his friend off) claimed to be a Lions fan. The two went from chummy to heated enemies very quickly. Bobby even had a few colorful words to say to his friend once his team lost, but they made up in time to both cheer for the Cowboys. Sam didn't think he'd ever understand the concept.

The evening wrapped up late, but eventually the small crowd of hunters filed out in favors of hunts, or motel rooms. Rufus, and Annie however stuck around for the night. Sam didn't pay any mind, he simply dropped on the bed and instantly fell asleep, but Dean noticed the woman named Annie didn't go upstairs. Nor did she sleep on the uncomfortable couch downstairs.

xxxOOOxxx

After a quick dinner of seemingly endless Thanksgiving leftovers Bobby and Dean left Sam to work on a car in the garage. Sam stayed behind, favoring a book on detailed Greek Mythology. Dean wrinkled his nose at the textbook, having just gotten out of school he couldn't imagine wanting to read more. Sometimes the kid was too nerd for his own good.

Sam didn't mind the scrutiny. He still hummed with the excitement of the holiday. Halloween had been ignored. Ever since discovering that the things of horror actually existed in this world, dressing up as them and walking around begging for money had lost its appeal real quickly. That Thanksgiving though had been amazing. Not only had there never been that much food on one table in Sam's existence, but the atmosphere had been so bright and happy. Something that felt lost on the days of motels and new towns. He did feel the absence of his father though. He wished he could have been there.

Sam shook the thought and wrapped a thin blanket over his small frame. He dragged the blanket and book to the arm of Bobby's recliner set himself comfortably for an extended period of time. He got through one chapter (a lengthy one though) until one of the lines in the kitchen rang out. He put the book down and slipped into the kitchen to glance at what line was being called. It was the personal line. Sam bit his lip thinking about what to do.

The line was always picked up by Bobby. Then again Bobby didn't specify that he was the only one to answer calls. Unlike John he set no specific rules other than do your best and try and act like boys. The line continued to blink and wail. What if there was a hunter on the other line needing help from Bobby. All Sam had to do was jot down a note and leave it for the hunter to read later.

With that final thought Sam's hand perched on the phone and after a last second of hesitation greeted the person calling. "Hello, this is Bobby Singer's phone."

The line was silent save a heavy uneven breathing that gave the slightest clue someone was there.

"Bobby isn't able to talk, but I can leave a message." Sam waited patiently. He recognized the unsteady wheeze of a drunk. They took a second to get through to. Whenever his father came home drunk it would take a while for Dean to wrestle him to the bed or to the toilet depending on the drink and how much. Sometimes his father was too much to handle so Sam (after insisting) would help tend to their drunk and ailing father. In fact!

"Dad?" Sam asked cautiously.

The familiar wheezing breath hitched. It was him!

"Dad! Hey are you okay? Can you come home? It's almost Christmas and Dean n' I miss you a lot." Sam's voice rose with each syllable. "Please. We're worried n'-"

"I'm sorry." John's grating voice ground out on the line cutting off his son. His voice was timid and quiet. Two thing's John Winchester never was. "I am so sorry."

"Dad? What are you-?" Sam stopped when he heard the heart stopping click. "No! No! No!" Anger swelled in the boy. Why couldn't he get it? Why didn't his dad understand what he wanted? Why wouldn't he ever listen to him? He didn't want a mansion or a pony. All he wanted was his family. His small, broken little family. That included his flakey father. Guess he was just too dumb to think it was possible.

Once again feelings of inadequacy swirled through him. Try as he might he couldn't dismiss them.

"Why am I not good enough?!" Sam bit out. He slammed the corded phone back on the hook, breaking the hook and the phone slammed to the ground and bounced violently before dangling. He wasn't finished though. The usually calm boy swung his fist just under the phones and felt the wood and plaster break under the power. "Why?! Why can't I just be fucking normal?"

He stood there fist halfway through the wall Sam breathed in ragged angry breaths that shook him to the core. How long he stayed there, Sam didn't know. He eventually took a deep calming breath fighting the raw emotion coursing through him. After a few more steadying breaths Sam retracted his hand. He rather saw than felt the broken skin and the blood.

He stepped away from the mess he'd left. He couldn't be here. Not right now. He needed to clear his head. He needed to go for a walk.

xxxOOOxxx

For the second time Dean returned home and didn't see his little brother. First time he had been confused. There had been no sign of struggle and no blood. Now after joking and keeping topic with Bobby as they entered the kitchen Dean's heart stopped. The corded phone was swinging from its perch, and just below the little row of phones a hole. There was undeniably blood from the cavity in the wall and a small little puddle on the ground a foot away. There was a steady blood splatter leading from the kitchen to the back door. Which was where Dean was racing now. His heart thundered loudly and almost felt like it was slamming repeatedly into his ribcage.

"SAMMY!" His vision and hearing tunneled full focus on the back door. Had he been able to hear he would have heard Bobby try and calm him. Had he stayed still he would have felt Bobby try and pull him around to look at him. Unknowingly Dean flailed his limbs, successfully keeping Bobby back and his hand wrenched open the back door using the blood slicked handle.

Sam! In a violet burst Dean threw the back door open and pushed off the back porch into the open space of the lot. "SAMMY!"

"Dean?" It was quiet, but Dean heard his name being said. The kid was there.

To be honest it did little to calm him. Why was there blood? Was Sam okay? Scratch that. The kid had to be okay. "Where are you? Sam?!"

"'M up here." Once again the voice was soft and nearly carried away by the wind, but Dean heard it and pinpointed its location. He took a leap up onto the porch and he leapt up his feet flying towards the little huddled figure crammed between the rotting railing and the cold metal chairs.

Dean pressed his palms to Sam's face drawing the tear streaked face upward. "Hey, you okay? Are you bleeding?" A mass of questions swirled in his head, and fought to get out at once. "What happened?"

"I answered the phone. I shouldn't have." Sam drooped his head back down, but Dean scooped it back up again. Fresh tears were welling up in his kid brother's eyes, and Dean couldn't stand it.

Bobby's shadow settled over the two for a second until the man had noisily scooted the metal chair away from the kid. Dean took the space to crouch down and stretch out the boy's limbs to see if he was injured anywhere.

"I answered the phone, 'n now I ruined everything." Sam ignored Dean's mother-henning in favor of staring past his brother and into the lot. "'M sorry Dean."

Dean hissed loudly when he pried Sam's right hand away from his body and uncurled the clenched fingers. "God damn it, Sam! What did you do?"

"M' sorry."

"You already mentioned that, runt." Dean turned Sam's head to meet his watery hazel eyes. "Tell me what happened."

"I ruined everything." Sam supplied unhelpfully.

Dean's gaze went back to Sam's knuckles and he was vaguely aware of Bobby standing back up and reentering the house. "I got that part too. Come on book nerd, use your big words."

Dean only dared turn away when he heard Bobby gruffly call his name. Bobby was holding up a first aid kit and motioning the boy to move. The motion was met with a glare. Dean wouldn't be moving. His brother was in distress and a firing squad couldn't keep him away.

"I'm not telling you to go. You can stay with him, boy." Bobby gruffly sighed. "I just need to check his wound."

Reluctantly Dean passed over Sam's hand to the man and he went back to focusing on the mental state of his troubled brother. "Hey, talk to me runt. One phone call and you go Mike Tyson on the wall?"

"I-" Sam started but was cut off. Dean knew the kid was just going to parrot what he had been saying earlier.

"Get it. Messed up." Dean bit out. "Now, what happened?"

Sam took a breath to collect himself enough to explain. "I was reading, 'n the phone rang. 'N I figured I would take a message cuz you 'n Uncle Bobby were out in the garage." Dean didn't miss the fact that Sam's vocabulary was a bit lacking due to the emotion. "It was dad."

Both men stilled.

"I didn't know it was him at first. Until I heard him breathing. Dad breathes all funny when he's drunk." Sam hiccupped in a breath. "'N he didn't say anything. I started asking him when he'd be back. If he'd be back by Christmas, 'n all he did was 'pologize."

Had his brother not been emotional and he not been wrangling with his own emotions, Dean would have made fun of his brother for dropping the A in the word. Dean smoothed back Sam's hair and pulled his brother towards him in a crushing hug, unmindful of Bobby trying to do first aid.

"I just wanna be a family. Why can't we be a family?"

Dean tamped down the dark hatred rising from leaving his brother in this emotional state again. "We are a family." He stated firmly. "Not all families are perfect though, and while ours is far from it we still love each other. Dad's staying away because he loves us." Dean broke the hug and met Sam's confused eyes. "I know messed up right."

"Can I get your hand now that you two princesses are done hugging?" Bobby broke in and snatched back Sam's bleeding hand. He didn't flinch as he dabbed at the wound with the antiseptic and Sam hissed in pain. "Well that's what happens when you take on a wall."

"'M sorry, Bobby. I wasn't thinking." Sam offered his morose apology.

"There's a first for everything." Dean's joke didn't lighten the situation.

Sam wasn't done. "He hung up, 'n I got mad. 'N the next thing you know I was punching the wall."

"I'm not mad about the wall." Bobby groused. "I'm mad you tore up your knuckles, you knuckle head." A string of curses broke through when Bobby started noticing a few splinters of plaster and wood in the wound once the blood was clearing. "And you tore it up good."

"'M sorry."

"Look, stop apologizing." Dean ground out. He took a deep breath to calm himself and pressed his forehead to Sam's. "You scared the crap out of me runt. Do not do that again!"

"Sorry." The kid was still so quiet.

"Stop! I already told you to stop apologizing." Dean growled. His hands tightened in the boy's hair. "Not for the wall, the phone call, or my future heart condition. None of this is your fault." He took another deep breath and turned to glance at the ugly looking knuckles. "You want to take this clean up inside, Sam?"

Sam was still a while, until he finally allowed his face to split into a smile. The emotion didn't quite reach his eyes, and Dean imagined that much like himself Sam would be battling with emotions from their father abandoning them for a long time. Their relationship with their father would never be completely healed. Dean grunted as he stood up, and offered a hand down to the kid curled up on himself. Sam unfolded and reached up to grab his brother's hand.

Dean helped the kid up and steadied him. "At least we didn't have to play hide-and-seek again."

"I was going to. I wanted to run." Once up Dean was motherly dusting him off, but Sam didn't push him away. He'd let Dean get it out. He had scared him. "But Dad runs. 'N I didn't want to run. If there's a problem I want to face it."

Bobby glanced down at the kid and didn't bother to hide his pride. "Just don't punch the problem."

(Reached the end, then show me some love. Please leave a comment. And once again, I am soooo sorry if the story took a while.)