Chapter 21

The following week had Dean learning how to inventory the stock and listing what needed to be reordered along with cleaning each night after the place closed down and setting it back up before opening time. He learned how to make a decent pot of coffee and went with Hank to the discount store for supplies so he could buy some things for himself. The Rusty Spur stayed open until midnight Tuesday through Thursday nights and until one am on Friday and Saturday. It was closed on Sunday and Monday allowing for time off.

Hank was impressed with Dean and the good job he was doing. Before opening up on Saturday he watched Dean setting the bar up and decided to see if he was going to stay longer. If not, he planned on giving him some money for the week's worth of work.

"Dean, come over here." Hank called to him as he checked the glasses behind the bar.

"Yes sir." Dean asked wiping his hands on a towel.

"Just wanted to see if you'd made a decision yet."

"About what?" he asked slowly.

"Well its been a week and I was just wondering if ya was goin' to stay on a while and help me out?"

Dean looked at him and then around the bar as he contemplated his response. Hank waited patiently seeing the wheels in his brain turning before he answered. He found Dean liked to think things through before giving a response. It seemed he ran through all the scenarios in his head deciding on the best one for himself.

"If you still need someone to help, yes I'll stay on a while longer." Dean finally said. He didn't think he would find anything better than this, so it was really an easy question to answer.

"Good to hear." Hank smiled happily going back to wiping the bar down. "So if you agree does fifty dollars a week to start sound reasonable to ya?"

"You don't have to..."

"Nonsense, you're doing all the heavy lifting around here, you deserve to be paid for that. No arguing now, go on get back to work." Hank said waving him off while he checked the cash register.

spn

Dean when back to setting up the tables and wiped them down before checking to see if the floor needed sweeping. He grabbed the bags of trash and took them out to the dumpster before heading back in. He checked behind the bar to see if it needed any restocking before cutting up some limes and lemons.

"Dean, why don't ya run down the street and grab us some dinner before we open." Hank told him handing him a twenty. "Get me a grilled chicken sandwich with broccoli and baked potato and get whatever you want."

"Ok Hank." Dean said picking up the money from the bar and headed out the front door.

Hank watched the boy head out and smiled to himself glad that he had listened to that little voice that told him to help Dean. He had not questioned him about his past and figured when Dean was ready to talk, if he wanted to talk, he would. He wasn't going to pressure or interrogate him for fear he would bolt. Dean was just starting to relax around him and he didn't want to do anything to ruin that. Hank made sure he at least got one good meal a day whether it be from the diner down the street or from his own kitchen. He had never remarried after his late wife, Ruth, passed away ten years ago. He had gone into the Marines right out of high school and met Ruth his third year in. They had married six months later. She stood by him during his three tours overseas and they had settled down after his last one when he became a drill instructor until he retired from service. Ruth was the love of his life and he didn't think she could ever be replaced. He had bought the bar right after getting out and had been running it ever since.

spn

Dean was into his second month working for Hank and he decided that Lady Luck was still shining down on him. He had a roof over his head, a bed to sleep in and a job that he was getting paid for. The work wasn't glamorous or anything but he felt satisfaction that he was doing a good job. Hank suggested he needed to hit the thrift stores since his clothes seemed to be getting to small. Dean was having a growth spurt again and decided to go to the thrift store after lunch to buy some new clothes. Since he had been working at the bar, he was starting to add muscle to his body. He had found a park a couple blocks away that had a nice jogging trail and ran every other day to keep in shape.

spn

Dean let himself in the back door and took his purchases upstairs before coming back down. He heard voices in the front and cautiously looked out into the room to see Hank sitting with another man his age. He looked scruffy with a beard and dirty baseball cap. They were talking together and Hank laughed at something being said. Dean walked into the room and started doing his usual routine of setting up the bar.

"Dean! You're back, come 'ere son I want you to meet an old friend, we went to school together. Bobby Singer this is Dean my right hand man around here." Hank introduced him.

"Hello son." Bobby said giving the boy a quick once over sizing him up.

"Hello." Dean replied and continued with his work.

"Quiet one." Bobby said quietly as he watched the boy finish with the chairs.

"He is, but he's a hard worker and doesn't complain about anything. I'm letting him say upstairs while he works here."

"You always had a soft spot for strays."

"So are you coming or going this time?"

"Just finished up a hunt with Roy down in northern Texas and I'm on my way back home. Figured I would stop by since I was this close." Bobby said sipping his coffee while keeping an eye on the boy. He knew Dean was listening to every word they said even thought he tried to be nonchalant about it.

"What this time?"

Dean listened intently to the conservation catching bits and pieces of it that made him pause for a moment. He caught hunt and vamp and someone named Roy. He eased closer to hear better but they were talking about something else now. He finished with the chairs and started around the bar to check the stock when Hank called to him.

"Dean why don't ya go get us some dinner? I'll have the barbecue platter, Bobby what's your pleasure?"

"Barbecue sounds good." he said reaching into his pocket for money.

"No this's my treat put your money away." Hank told him pulling two twenties from his pocket and handing them to Dean. "Get what ya want too Dean."

"Yes sir." Dean said pocketing the money and letting himself out the front door.

"What's his story?" Bobby asked after Dean had left.

"No idea, like you said he doesn't talk much. But if I was to guess, abuse maybe. Found him going through the dumpster out back about two months ago. Darn near gave me a heart attack when he popped up out of there. He was looking for food, invited him to share my lunch and he's been here ever since."

"Seems like a smart kid, but shouldn't he be in school?"

"I've thought about that, but since May's coming up and school will be out, figured I'd talk to him about that if he's still here this fall. He's just now starting to trust me and I'd hate to lose it."

"Not a bad idea."

"So how's the salvage business going?"

"It pays the bills." he shrugged.

"Phil passed through last month said he was meeting up with Bill to hunt a black dog."

"Haven't seen him in a while, he doing ok?"

"Seemed to be, he was going to hook up with Jeff after that hunt to go check out a spirit down in Mississippi. Seems most are staying busy out there."

They stopped talking when Dean came back in carrying two bags of food. He sat them on the table and started to get his out to take upstairs to eat.

"Pull a seat up Dean and join us." Hank offered sliding over so he would have room.

"I can go upstairs." he mumbled fidgeting with a bag.

"Nonsense, we'd enjoy the company sit yerself down." Bobby insisted.

Dean got a chair from the table beside them and sat down. Hank divided the food between the three of them and they settled down to eat.

"You from around here Dean?" Bobby inquired after they were halfway through their meal.

"No." he answered stiffening slightly by the question as a wary look crossed his face.

"How long ya been on yer own?"

"A while." he grunted as his wall went up and he got up from the table. "Gonna go check the stock in the back." he told them taking his remaining food with him.

"Didn't mean to upset him."

"Awe that's ok. He's not one to talk about himself." Hank said with a sigh. "That boy's troubled, just wish I knew how to reach him. I know there's had to have been something bad happen to him."

"Keep doing what you're doing. I think what he needs more than anything is seeing someone cares about him. He needs to know he belongs somewhere and he's safe."

spn

Dean finished his meal and checked the trash before going behind the bar to wipe it down. He kept glancing at the two men talking quietly still at the table. He ignored them and finished up getting the bar ready to open.

"Nice to meet ya Dean." Bobby called to him as he got up from the table. "I'm gonna be heading out Hank, Sioux Falls ain't gettin' any closer with me sitting here."

"Good bye sir." Dean replied.

"Stop back by any time Bobby, you're always welcome." Hank said shaking him hand while he walked him to the door. "You take care out there and stay safe you hear."

"You can count on it. See ya next time around."

Hank closed the door and relocked it before turning back to the bar and Dean. Dean was wiping the bar again trying to look busy.

"Take a break son, you've got everything ship shape, go on upstairs and relax." Hank told him.

Dean refolded the towel and nodded heading for the back.

"And Dean, you're doing a great job here I appreciate that." he praised him feeling he needed to hear this.

"Thank you sir." Dean half smiled before heading on upstairs.

He usually read and listened to music for a bit before turning in so he could be up early to start the clean up. Hank didn't usually come in until lunch time or shortly afterwards. He usually brought Dean something to eat or sent him for food from the diner. Hank would work on the deposit and get it to the bank before they opened for the day. Dean asked him wasn't he worried about being robbed and he told him the story of the idiot who tried. Hank put him in the hospital with broken bones and a concussion. He also carried a hand gun and wasn't afraid to use it if he needed to.

spn

"Dean, Doc called and can't work Friday and Saturday nights for a while, think you can pitch in and help?" Hank asked when he came in a few weeks later. "I know you're not suppose to be in a bar, but as long as you don't serve anyone I'm hoping no one will notice you busing tables."

"Sure, no problem." Dean said actually excited at the chance to work downstairs when the bar was open. He finished stocking and found an apron to wear for the night so he would look the part. He was curious about the customers that frequented the bar and wanted to get a first hand look at them.

The Rusty Spur was a bar, nothing more, you could get a good beer or if you wanted something stronger there were the liquors and that was it, no fancy smachy mixed drinks or wine or sissy ass wine coolers. If you wanted food, Hank wopuld direct you to the nearest restaurant down the block. There was a pool table on one side and a dart board on the other if you cared for a friendly game or he had a large screen television mounted on the wall playing some sports or news show. If you had a preference, Hank would usually change the channel. The one thing customers had to understand was when you stepped through those doors into the bar, you were in Hank's kingdom and he was the king of it. What he said was the law and if you didn't like it you were asked politely to leave and not come back. If you caused problems or got unruly, he had no problem tossing you out on your ass. Hank ruled his kingdom with an iron fist and took no lip from anyone. He wanted a place where customers could come and relax, enjoy a cold one or couple of shots, have some friendly conservation, play a friendly game of pool or darts or watch whatever was on the tube. There were the regulars who came by nearly every night it was open for a cold one and time to wind down before going back out into the real world. Then you had the more serious, intense customers who always sat with their back to the wall in order to survey the room for any threat. They kept to themselves, had their drinks and moved on. Hank would stroll by and speak to them for a few minutes then move on. Hank always made sure if a customer couldn't drive that his keys were taken and a cab was called to get them home safely. Customers learned quickly that you didn't start a drunken brawl in Hank's bar unless you wanted broken bones and a trip to jail. Many of the local cops or firefighters would stop by and Hank gave them the first drink on the house and that went with any military people who happened upon the place. He even had a sign stating this hanging behind the bar. Hank wasn't in the business to make a butt load of money, he made a small profit and that was just fine by him.

spn

After Hank unlocked the doors of the bar and turned on the Open sign, customers started wandering in. Most were white collar, working class people who stopped off for a beer on their way home from work. Hank served them and Dean bused the tables and kept the bar stocked. He watched the different types and variety of people coming and going as the evening grew longer. Dean studied each person, training his skills on reading people, learning their body language. He knew that would come in handy later on.

Two men came in and took a booth before one got up to go to the bar to get a couple of beers. Dean eyed the two closely thinking they looked more intense and different from the other customers. They began talking between themselves and referring to several books that one pulled from his pack. Dean walked by and bused a table nearby listening intently to their conservation. He heard mention of hunting and the need to restock on silver bullets before meeting up with someone else named Jim. Walking by the two, he glanced down to see a page in the book titled werewolf and a picture of one. Dean hurried on past them and deposited the empties in the recycle bin in back before coming back out to check if there were any other tables that needed cleaning. He saw the two men leave and went to bus their table wondering exactly what they were hunting. He stored what he saw in the back of his mind while he quickly cleaned the tables as more people began to come in. The place was starting to get busy for a Friday night and he had to hustle to keep up busing the tables and help Hank keep the bar stocked. He was glad to see one am roll around and the remaining customers leave the bar. Hank locked up and pulled the money from the register to go in the safe.

"You did good tonight Dean I'm proud of you." Hank praised him as he wiped the tables and set the chairs on the tables.

"Thanks Hank." Dean smiled to himself feeling proud of his work tonight. He thought about the two guys he had spied on and wondered what that was all about.

"Well I'm heading out, don't stay up too late. I'll see ya later on in the morning."

"Alright Hank."

Dean finished with the tables and checked the restrooms before deciding he could finish the rest later on in the morning. He shut the lights off and was heading for the door to go upstairs when someone pounded on the back door making him jump. He went to the door and listened closely at the door. Knocking sounded again and then a familiar voice called to him.

"Open up kid." Bobby called through the door a hint of pain in his voice.

With a flip of the two locks, Dean had the door open and stared out at Bobby leaning against the side of the doorway. He stumbled slightly as he tried to maneuver himself into the room.

"Bobby, what happened?" Dean asked helping the older man into the room and closing and locking the door behind him.

"Hank should be here shortly." Bobby grumbled as he winced in pain while limping toward the bar.

Dean could see blood on his jacket and saw he was leaving a small trail behind him as it dripped from his fingertips. He rushed ahead of him and pulled a chair from the nearest table for him to sit down. He wondered if Bobby had been mugged or attacked by someone.

"What can I do?" Dean asked once Bobby dropped into the chair and let his pack fall to the floor.

"Get me a towel." Bobby told him as he struggled to get his jacket off his injured shoulder and drop it to the floor.

Dean hurried back with a couple of towels and frowned when he saw the gaping flesh showing through the torn shirt. He quickly pressed a towel to the wound to stanch the flow of blood.

"How 'bout pouring me a shot." he told Dean using his good hand to hold the towel in place.

"Yes sir." Dean replied running around the bar and grabbing the first whiskey he saw and poured some in a glass. He carried it carefully back to Bobby and sat it on the table. "What happened were you attacked?"

"Something like that." Bobby answered tossing the shot back in one swallow groaning as it hit his stomach. "Go look in back, Hank has a first aid kit back there on the shelf."

"Alright." Dean told him scurrying into the store room to hunt for the kit. He quickly searched the shelves and finally found it on the bottom shelve in a corner. He slipped the large box off the shelve and carried it into the bar sitting it on the table. Dean opened it and stared in shock at the well equipped medical kit. He saw items that were not usually in regular first aid kits and wondered just what Hank was expecting.

spn

Bobby and Dean looked up when the front door was unlocked and Dean reached for his knife and Bobby his gun until he saw Hank come in and lock the door behind him.

"What the hell happened Bobby?" Hank asked when he saw the bloody towel pressed to his shoulder.

"Awe damn greenhorn hunter jumped out too soon and alerted our target. Had to knock him out of the way 'fore he got his neck ripped out." Bobby growled madly as Hank inspected the wound. "Took a clip to bring the damn werewolf down."

Looking from Bobby to Hank, Dean shook his head slightly as he tried to figure out if what he heard was right. Did he just say werewolf, like change when it's a full moon werewolf with claws and fangs and such.

"Looks like it got ya pretty good there, Dean go get me a bowl with warm water." Hank ordered him as he grabbed scissors to cut the shirt away from the gash. "Oh yeah, you're gonna need stitches. You're lucky it didn't get your throat."

"Figured as much." he replied hissing as Hank wiped blood from the shoulder. "Would of done it myself if I could of reached it."

"Here." Dean said sitting down the bowl and watching Hank take out the items he needed to sew up the gash. Both men seemed as ease with all this, like it was a regular occurring thing. He wondered if others used Hank as a pit stop to get patched up what with the fully stocked medical kit.

"Give him a double shot Dean; it'll help dull the pain."

"Got it." Dean nodded going back to the bar for the bottle. He hovered nearby not wanting to miss anything. He was very curious about what had attacked Bobby and what else they knew.

"You know this is going to sting." Hank warned Bobby as he poured a small amount of alcohol over the gash.

"Balls!" Bobby yelled as the liquid ran over the open wound. "Just make it quick."

"Don't rush me; wanna make sure I get it stitched properly."

Standing to the side, Dean watched as Hank cleaned the gash and took out sutures to sew it up. He watched with interest standing on his tiptoes so he could see better. He studied how he made each stitch and tied them off. After the gash was closed, Hank applied ointment and then a gauze pad before taping it down.

"There, anything else that needs taken care of?"

"Naw, twisted my knee but its ok."

"Want some ice for it?" Hank asked before shaking out a couple of pain pills. "Take these."

"I'm good. Thanks Hank." Bobby said slowly getting up and getting his balance. "I'll be on my way."

"Why don't you stay, you can use my bed." Dean volunteered.

Both men turned to look at him, forgetting he was there for a moment. Both looked at each other wondering what the boy thought and what he had overheard. Instead of dwelling on it, Hank continued to talk agreeing with Dean.

"Good idea son, come on Bobby let's get you upstairs." Hank told him steering toward the stairs.

"No, no, I'll just head out." he slurred slightly.

"Nothing doing, you need to rest before heading out. You lost more blood than you think, you shouldn't be out there driving in your condition. Give it at least until later this morning. No argument now, the boy done offered his bed to you."

With Hank's help, Bobby made his way up the stairs and into the sitting room. Dean hurried after them and went to turn the bed down and grab a pillow for himself so he could sleep on the couch. Bobby eased onto the bed with a sigh and kicked his boots off before carefully laying down.

"I'll bring breakfast in the morning, get some rest old man." Hank told him.

"Who you calling old, you old coot." Bobby shot back making Hank chuckle.

"I'll be back around ten Dean. Thanks for the help down there, get some sleep too."

"I will." Dean said throwing the pillow on the couch and pulling the blanket off the back to cover up in.

"Night son."

"Good night Hank." Dean replied watching Hank leave. He looked through the door at the man in his bed and decided to use the restroom downstairs so he wouldn't disturb him. He wanted to know more about what exactly had injured him. He couldn't believe they were actually talking about a werewolf like it was real or something. It didn't make sense to him he thought letting his questions roll around in his head as he headed back downstairs.

A/N: So now we have Bobby in the story and Dean starting to learn about the things that go bump in the night. Hope you enjoyed this extra long chapter and thank you so much to all who are helping me keep this story alive and going. I enjoy your feedback and hope you will leave me a review. NC