Back into the swing of things. Phones ringing, dusty book opened all over the house, he's back to work. It feels pretty good, Bobby has to admit to himself. Damn good actually.
After Rufus came by it's been a whole new world for the seasoned hunter. He began answering his many calls, sending hunters out when he caught wind of something, and even left the house to help out a family two towns over with a ghost problem. Sure, he still has his bad days, but a few weeks have gone by and the bad days seem to be farther and farther apart. In fact, it's been a whole five days since his last hard black out. That's true progress.
As he reads through some Japanese text about an ancient poltergeist-style spirit to help a not so bright hunter friend (Garth really is a lovable idjit deep down though…) he hears a car roaring up his driveway. He's not expecting anyone, he never is, and the car sounds new. Really new. What the hell would a new car be doing visiting his scrap yard?
Looking out the kitchen window he gets a view of the 2006 Dodge Charger SRT8. The all black, super powerful machine gleams in the sun. Nice ride Bobby has to think, even if he is more of a classic model kind of guy.
The passenger gets out and as soon as he does the alarm bells go off in Bobby's head. The tall man unfolds himself, his long hair slightly covering his face from Bobby's vantage point but he doesn't need to see the guy's face to know who it's supposed to be.
Grabbing his salt-round loaded shotgun and a silver knife Bobby barrels through his side door to greet his visitor.
"You must be the stupidest piece of shit monster I have ever come across!" Bobby bellows with sheer anger as he cocks his sawed off and takes immediate aim. "Get the fuck off my property before I make Swiss cheese of yer ass!"
"Bobby," the Sam-looking mother fucker greets with a slight smile. "Put the gun down."
"I don't think you're in any position to be tellin' me what to do," he responds steadfast and ready with his gun aimed. "I'm givin' you a one-time offer of fleein' and never using that particular form again before I kill ya'. You wanna stay then you better kiss you own ass before biddin' it farewell."
"Damn it," the Sam-alike complains while maintaining an oddly calm demeanor. Hands on hips as he looks at the older hunter, he just sighs with a forced half smile. "Shoulda known this wasn't gonna be a picnic. Bobby, I swear to you… it's me."
"And I've been through this shit before…"
"And it was really Dean, wasn't it?" Sam reminds him, trying to prove his identity without getting shot.
"But you ain't really Sam!" his anger topples him as he shouts to the thing in front of him. No fucking way is this happening to him again. He can't hack another go around of saying goodbye and then being ambushed with a Return of the Living Dead part two. He just can't do it again.
"Yeah, I am," Sam tries again, taking a very self-assured step forward… only to be greeted by the sound of a shotgun blast loudly echoing through the air. He freezes as he looks at Bobby with wide, shocked eyes.
"The next one won't be aimed at the clouds," he warms, his shotgun being cocked and re-aimed at the mystery creature.
"Just listen to me for a second!" Sam requests of his father figure, his hands out in surrender but his voice stern. "You know me, Bobby. And I know you. What can I do to prove I'm me?"
Pausing, Bobby just stares down the thing before him. His words, the way he speaks and thinks… he's logical and clear, willing to talk things out and prove himself. This is very much like the Sam he said goodbye to less than two months ago.
Pulling out the silver knife from his back pocket, Bobby tosses the weapon at the Sam copy, it landing with a thud at his feet.
"You can start with some silver," he instructs. "You know what to do."
Still looking up at Bobby as he keeps one hand out to show he's not there to cause trouble, Sam picks up the sliver knife. He rolls up the sleeve of his plaid shirt and makes an even slice into his arm just below the crook of his elbow. No sizzle. No reaction. Just red blood.
"See?" Sam forces a smile. "It's me."
"Big deal, so you ain't a shifter," Bobby eyes him cautiously. He then reaches into his house, his hand landing on the counter off to the side and feeling around for the flask he has there. Without taking his sights off of Sam he throws him the metal flask. Sam catches it. "Drink up."
"You should get some salt too," Sam suggests confidently as he opens the container. He takes a swig and once more nothing happens.
"Huh," Bobby says aloud with a little surprise as he lowers his shotgun. He pops the barrel open and pulls out a salt round. He then tosses that over too. "Here you go, Sammy."
"It's Sam," he corrects as he uses the silver knife to cut open the round. The remark doesn't go by unnoticed. Bobby called him Sammy on purpose, knowing the real deal would correct him. No one calls him Sammy… except for Dean, of course.
Once he dumps some grains of salt into his palm, Sam quickly knocks them back and swallows.
"We cleared this one up yet?" he says with slight impatience.
Bobby glares at the man with still going suspicion. Something still doesn't feel right. He's not just going to buy it that easily.
"Gimme the rundown and we might be ok," Bobby tells him as he adjusts the shotgun in his hold and Sam rolls his eyes with a heavy sigh.
"I'm Samuel Winchester. I was born on May second, 1983. I have a brother Dean born on January twenty-fourth which is the same day as my college girlfriend Jessica… who died because of me. My mom died in my nursery in a fire after Azazel bled in my mouth and dicked me over for life when I was exactly six months old. My dad died in 2006 when that same douche bag demon made a deal with him to save Dean's life in exchange for dad's soul. My life is fucking cursed but at least the apocalypse is over, right?" Sam huffs. "You need any more?"
Arching an eyebrow, Bobby says nothing but lets his hard expression say for him that it isn't nearly enough. Any demon or spirit or monster taking Sam's form could glean that basic info from him easily.
"Alright, um… you've been like a father to me way before my own even died. You picked up the pieces John dropped for Dean and me our whole lives. The first time we stayed with you, you made us macaroni and cheese for lunch and when I pissed the bed the first night you didn't even complain. You told me it was alright and accidents happen while Dean bitched since he was in the same bed as me and I got his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pajamas wet… though I still say I improved them. Those things were lame."
Nodding just slightly, Bobby starts to come around. He remembers that night. The poor runt was so embarrassed yet at the same time he was days away from being three and he'd just gotten the whole potty training thing down… mostly. Dean had upset him by making fun and Bobby's heart just melted for the kid.
"You were also the only one on my side when I wanted to take down Lucifer Hara-Kari style. Lizzy and Dean said hell no. They thought I couldn't do it or they weren't willing to take the chance on me, but not you. You knew all along I could do it, had full faith in me, and that's more than any other person has ever done for me before." Sam stares at Bobby for a moment with a blank stare. "I never thanked you for that, did I?"
Swallowing hard as he's starting to see that this might be the real deal, Bobby blinks once. "My wife's name?"
"Karen. She was beautiful and she could make pies that brought Dean to his knees."
"You're daddy's storage room?"
"It's in a castle on a hill made of forty-two dogs." Sam smirks with his reference. "Or better, it's in Castle Storage at forty-two Rover Hill in upstate New York. He has everything seriously important that he's ever come across in there… including Dean's first sawed off that he made himself and my soccer trophy from the only soccer team I've ever been able to be in. It was from 95'. I had been in fourth grade."
"And that ring hangin' 'round your neck?" Bobby nods to the back leather cord with a silver band tied to it.
His hand comes up and rests over the ring through the t-shirt it's tucked into. He sighs for effect. "It's Louise Becker's ring. Her best friend and half-sister Lizzy Winchester gave it to me after she passed away. She wanted me to have a way to remember Lou after she turned vamp and that bitch Ruby offed her to save my ass." He nods and keeps his hard to maintain sullen expression in place. "Lou and I… we were… she was very important to me once."
"Once?" Bobby questions, knowing for a fact that Lou never lost an ounce of importance to Sam.
"Still," he corrects quickly. "When I lost her I lost a huge part me and I was never the same. I lost my chance at something really, really great. I think she loved me, or at least I hope she did… because I loved her."
"Sam?" Bobby checks one last time as he lowers his shotgun to his side and walks down the four steps at his side door.
"Yeah," Sam answers back, confirming it's him.
"Boy…" he starts, walking right up to his formerly lost son. "You kids are gonna put in me the ground one of these days." With a deep breath, Bobby pulls Sam into him and hugs him tight, almost as if he's making sure the kid is real and really there. Biting back his tears, he pats Sam on his back a few times and stays there. It felt too good to have him back to let him go just yet.
Sam is the first to back away, taking a step and sharing a grin that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"What the fucking hell?" Bobby questions in a shaky tone with a little laugh at the end.
"I have no idea," Sam says honestly. "I just kinda… appeared. In that cemetery near Lawrence. I was alone and the place looked the same as before my swan dive but… I was there."
"Jesus, Sam," Bobby shakes his head, still wrapping his mind around the idea that this is happening at all. "Get your ass inside. We need to talk."
"Sounds good," Sam says. "I could use a beer."
"I could use more than one," Bobby grumbles back as Sam walks past him towards the house. It's then that he really looks at the pristine car in his driveway. "What's with the wheels?"
"My new ride," Sam answers, pausing and looking at Booby. "Figured it was time I got a car that was actually made for hunting."
Sam smiles an empty smile before heading into the house. Bobby's left standing there, eyeing over the highly unlikely choice of car for his son. He knows Sam well enough to be sure that he'd never say the Impala was anything less than home. Now he's left feeling like something is wrong with this scenario… besides the sheer fact that Sam somehow crawled out of the cage, naturally.
"So I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you haven't stopped by to see your brother yet."
Taking the seat across from Sam where he's already sitting at his kitchen table, Bobby starts in on the grilling. He's pretty sure it's Sam but something is off and he wants to know what.
"Yeah," Sam nods but quickly corrects himself. "Well, no… I did go to Massachusetts to go check on him and Lizzy."
"Ok…?" Bobby returns, taking a sip of the beer Sam left on the table for him. Sam just looks at him with a blank stare. "Dean hasn't called me freaking out and Lizzy hasn't given me the panicked 911 yet so I'm assuming you didn't actually talk to them."
"Nope. Instead I played the part of creepy guy watching them from across the street," Sam explains. "I didn't let them know I was there."
"What!?" Bobby says with odd alarm. "Why the hell not? You and yer brother are thick as thieves. This ain't like you to avoid the grand reunion…"
"You're right, it's not," he cuts in, his brow wrinkling with what looks like distress. "But haven't all my decisions in life been wrong so far?"
The elder hunter sits for a quiet moment to think. "Can't argue there," Bobby agrees with him.
"So when I saw Dean out working on the car… I just didn't have it in me to ruin his life twice, even if I wanted to."
A narrow-eyed, suspicious expression washes over Bobby. "Speak plain."
Sam huffs a small laugh as he prepares to explain himself… or at least give the explanation he came up with on the way here.
"Look, Dean's whole life has revolved around me. I know this. And because of that his life has sucked ass. I mean, sure, technically it's mom's fault for making that deal with Yellow-Eyes and dad's fault for hauling us everywhere and making us so dependent on each other it's royally fucked us but in the end… it was Dean who suffered the most. He's spent thirty years being my protector and not having an identity of his own. That's not supposed to be his lot in life. He's supposed to be the good dude next door that helps fix your car on weekends and has a wife and kids of his own… he's not supposed to be the guy who's already had a son of his own starting at the age for four. The mess that I come with, the hunting and the ties to angels, demons, monsters… I don't have it in me to walk right back into his life with all that baggage and kill his second chance."
Damn is he good when he tries, Sam thinks of himself.
A moment of silence lingers on as Bobby thinks things through. This explanation is very much like Sam. As much as Dean would do anything to keep Sam safe and happy he knows Sam would do the same in turn, even if that means never talking to his older brother for the rest of his life, or for as long as he can hold out.
"Gonna be a little tough, don't you think?"
"What is?" Sam questions.
"Staying away from the one blood relative you got left for the rest of your life," he points out. "And Lizzy too for that matter. She was as close as you had to a real sister towards the end there. You think you can ditch out of their lives totally, for good?"
"Yeah, or for as long as I can," Sam answers, knowing it won't be nearly as hard as Bobby says it'll be. They have nothing to offer him. Dean isn't much of a hunter as of now and Lizzy… well she has nothing he needs. That should bother him, but for some reason it doesn't. He better choose his words carefully. "If they can have a normal, supernatural free life, one where they're truly happy… hell yeah I can stay away. I'd do anything for them, you know that."
Bobby nods. "So what do you say you get out too then? Perfect opportunity."
"No way," Sam laughs away the thought.
"Wait a tick, weren't you always the one all gung-ho to get out?" Bobby challenges.
"Once upon a time, yeah."
"Well get back on board with the idea," Bobby nearly yells at Sam. "You've paid more than your dues, kid. This is your chance. Heaven and Hell are dealing with their own piles of shit and for once you ain't tied up in it. Get out just like them. Have a life, get a girl, get a real job. Live. Be a stuffy, too-smart lawyer who fucks over the big wigs."
"I can't," Sam shakes his head. "I wouldn't even know how to do that anymore. Nah, I accepted hunting as my life a long time ago. Now I'm just kinda ready to embrace it. Save some asses and more importantly kill some evil ones. I'm ok with it."
"You sure?" None of this is settling well with Sam.
"Yeah, I'm sure," he answers after a long pull from his bottle of beer. "Just, you know, don't tell Dean. Or Lizzy. Leave them alone."
"Don't have to ask me twice," Bobby tells him. "I want them out and having a real life as much as the next guy."
"Good," Sam smiles something odd.
"Yeah, good," Bobby echoes and takes down a good amount of beer himself.
Nothing settling right in his brain, Bobby does agree with Sam on one thing. Dean and Lizzy deserve a good, quiet life after all they've seen and done and Sam getting back into their lives will ruin that instantly if he sticks with hunting. For their sake he decides he'll keep quiet on the resurrection. Doesn't mean he'll like lying to those kids, but he'll do anything to keep them out. The only things he wants to talk to Dean about is cars and his new job when he gets one and the only stuff he wants to hear from Lizzy is that the two of them are happy and that someday his grandkids will be on the way.
But he'll only hear that if Sam stays away.
"So… what brings you topside?" Bobby changes the subject to an even more daunting one with a light and airy tone that doesn't exactly fit.
"Ah, and therein lies the reason for my visit," Sam smiles, a real one that Bobby believes for the first time since he's arrived.
"That's why you're here?" he questions back with offence.
"That and to see you beautiful mug again, Bobby," Sam laughs a bit.
"Yeah yeah," Bobby returns. "What do you know already?"