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Chapter 14

The next morning. Bobby pulled his truck to a stop outside of his house. Sam was in the passenger seat, slumped against the door with his head resting against the cool window while Dean followed them behind in the Impala. Bobby had seen the hurt expression on his face when Sam had told them that he wanted to go with Bobby and he knew exactly why, because Sam still thought his brother didn't want him around. They got out of the hospital in the early morning, knowing that the youngest Winchester can recover at Bobby's house better.

"I can take it from here, Bobby." Sam said kindly and gave him a flicker of a smile. He removed his arm off Bobby's shoulder and slowly limped his way towards the couch inside the library.

"Sam, there's a room upstairs, ya know." Bobby reminded as he followed him and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, but I'm just, ya know, not feeling up to walking the stairs." Sam replied and shrugged slightly as he tried to make himself comfortable on the couch, since his six ft. four frame doesn't seem to fit quite well on it.

Bobby sighed and nodded. The kid must be tired, he knew that. He's been using the couch ever since that tragic night, where he was forced to shoot his daddy and put a huge strain on his relationship with his brother. He probably still thought his brother didn't want him around.

"Sam.." He started but got cut off.

"Jus' wanna sleep, Bobby. Maybe we could talk later, 'kay?" Sam said sleepily. Bobby knew he was avoiding the subject, but sighed and reluctantly played along with it as he nodded slowly, knowing the kid does need some shut-eye, and walked out.

He went inside the kitchen and towards the fridge, took out a beer bottle and poured himself a glass, running a hand down his weary face. He couldn't imagine what they both must be going through, one from the heartache and pain, the other from guilt and shame. He knew Dean was the only one who could fix this, because honestly, he had sort of been the one to start all of this.

"Why is Sammy taking the couch?" Dean asked Bobby confusedly as he walked inside the kitchen, wondering why his brother would prefer an uncomfortable couch that's doesn't even fit his size over a soft, comfy and big enough for his six ft. four frame bed.

The sudden voice startled Bobby slightly, but he still turned around to face Dean and shrugged slightly. "Said he doesn't feel up ta' walking the stairs." He answered and took another swig of his beer.

Dean nodded slightly and sighed softly, grabbing a chair and plopping down, letting his elbows rest on the table and running both of his hands down his weary face. He didn't even know how to apologize to Sam, he didn't even know where to start. He had no idea how to make all of this right, how to put the pieces of their relationship back together, especially after Sam's confession at the hospital that had added more to his guilt list.

Bobby didn't need to ask what was bothering him, because he knew, and he understood what he was going through. It wasn't easy to just go and apologize to the person when you know the kind of words you said are always gonna live inside their head, forever. So instead, he just poured another glass and held it out to him. "Drink?"

XxX

Sam limped towards the chair quietly and slowly. He pulled one of the seats and sat down slowly. His injuries hadn't healed completely and they still hurt like hell when he makes a sudden movement. Bobby turned around at the screeching sound to find Sam. "Kid?" Bobby said softly as Sam looked up at him. "Ya know, ya coulda' told me. I would've helped ya here."

Sam sighed. "Bobby, I'm fine." He said and gave a small smile of reassurance.

"Ya don' look like it by the way you're limping like an ol' granpa." Bobby joked lightly, it brought a small huff of laughter from Sam and his heart warmed at the soft chuckle. Ever since the death of his dad, he barely smiled, let alone laughed these days.

"So what's for breakfast?" Dean asked cheerily from the doorway, breaking into their conversation, which made the two other men turn their attention to him.

"Bacon, eggs and toast." Bobby answered casually.

Dean grinned and walked over to sit on one of the chairs, purposefully avoiding eye contact with his little brother as he immediately turned his head to Bobby, because he couldn't do it, couldn't bring himself to look him in the eyes and see all of that pain and hurt that he caused, all the guilt that Sammy doesn't deserve to feel. All the emotions that he brought in his brother, and thinking about all that he said to him still clenched his heart with remorse, made bile rise up in his throat.

He doesn't even wanna look at me. Sam thought miserably. How could he have done it? How could he have shot his own dad? And now, Dean's suffering for his mistake; He has been paying for all his mistakes all his life, but this just crossed the line. Dean's never gonna forgive him for this.

And once again, he found himself thinking what he could've done, if he could've done things differently, if there was a way that didn't involve shooting his dad or letting his brother die. Even if it involved giving himself away, he would've taken it.

Bobby put two plates of food in front of both of them. "Eat up, idjits."

He sighed softly as he tried to control his tears. He looked down at his food and started picking on it ininterestedly. Now, Dean doesn't even want him around anymore.

He pushed the plate away and stood up. "I'm...I'm not really hungry right now." He announced and walked out of the room, leaving the two other men exchanging looks of confusion.

Dear God. I'm getting weak in writing since I haven't exactly been doing it much lately. But I hope it was good enough. :) Thank you so much guys! *Crosses fingers* Let's hope my next update is gonna be fast.