A/N: Howdy everybody. Hope you're all having a good week! I've been smacked down by whatever schoolyard smorgasbord illness is going around my school, and my head still hurts from where I got clocked in the head last week by a basketball (broke my glasses and everything). Anywho, I'd like to thank tigerman73, DearHart, Colby's girl, hectatess, shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod, tyrsibs, and bagelcat1 for the wonderful reviews. Y'all really know how to make a girl feel wanted and loved.

So, this chapter is tagged to 10x17, Inside Man. Looking back, I really did enjoy this chapter. Seeing Bobby again was definitely a kick, and I had a lot of fun seeing where I could take this one. Hopefully you all enjoy it as well. Please leave a review at the end!

Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable belongs to me.

Rocky Beginnings

When Bobby Singer met John Winchester for the first time, he hadn't known what to expect. Pastor Jim Murphy had called him up out of the blue one blistery February morning and said that he was sending someone to him…someone who had the answers but needed to figure out how to solve the problem.

What he didn't expect was a half-drunk, battle-hardened ex-Marine tugging a baby and preschooler up to his front steps. What he didn't expect was that jarhead to listen to him for all of twenty minutes before bailing to go hunt a witch, leaving his two kids staring after him, wide-eyed and trembling.

"Uhh…" Bobby stared down at the two tykes. The older one was dressed in holey jeans and a way too big flannel shirt with sleeves that, if the kid hadn't been holding his baby brother in his arms like his life depended on it, would have dragged on the floor. "Hey, kid…" Bobby cursed at himself mentally. This was why he never had kids of his own. He was terrible with them. Didn't know how to get on their level or even figure out what they wanted.

The kid stared up at him with suspicious eyes that made him look 27 instead of however old he actually was. He shifted his hold on the baby in his arms, bringing the infant closer to him and angling him away from the stranger that was currently in front of him.

"You got a name?"

The kid glared back at him.

"Well, I'm Bobby. You can, uh, call me Bobby, I guess."

The kid made no move, no sound.

"What's the matter? You don't talk?"

The kid shrugged uncomfortably.

"That's fine," Bobby shrugged in return. "I don't much like talking myself. What about this guy? He do much talking?"

The kid yanked the baby out of reach so fast that even Bobby's sharp reflexes couldn't clock the movement.

"Okay, kid! Take it easy! I ain't gonna hurt 'im!"

But the movement had done its damage already, waking the baby who, up until this point, had been sleeping peacefully in his big brother's arms.

A cry tore out and the older brother gave him a dirty look as he started rocking the baby back and forth gently. It took a few minutes of the silent bouncing and rocking for the baby to calm, but, when he did, the baby looked around curiously, taking in the new surroundings and the stranger standing in front of them.

"De'…" the baby whined, starting to tear up again.

"Shh…it's okay, Sammy," the boy whispered back, but Bobby's sharp ears picked it up easily. "We're okay."

"Hey there, Sammy," Bobby knelt down gently a few feet away from the boys. "You're alright. Just me and your big brother here." Sammy buried his head shyly in Dean's neck with a small whimper. "Wow, tough room…" he grumbled as he stood back up. "Well, I dunno when's the last time your daddy fed you two, but I got some Cheerios in the cupboard for Sammy and I think I got some frozen hot dogs in the freezer if his nameless big brother wants to eat too."

Bobby wandered into his kitchen and paused. After a few moments, he heard the creaking of the floor as the older kid followed after him. He grinned to himself, proud of his small victory.

"He crawlin' yet?" he called to the preschooler, turning back in time to see the boy nodding his head up and down. "Well, this place ain't exactly kid proof, so it might be best if we just sit him here at the table with us so he don't get into trouble. That sound okay with you, kid?" Again, the boy nodded. "Alright."

Bobby returned to the hall where, thankfully, John had left the clunky white car seat. He tugged it into the kitchen and perched it up on the table.

He looked down to see the kid eyeing the table distastefully, glancing down at his baby brother and up at the table. Back and forth, back and forth. Bobby would have laughed if he didn't think it would earn him another glare. It was obvious that this kid, whatever his name was, was smart. Bobby could practically hear the gears turning in his brain as he puzzled out what his next move would be.

Bobby knelt down again, maintaining a respectful distance, the same way he would with a wild animal.

"You think maybe I should put him in the car seat?" he asked gently. The kid again tightened his hold on his baby brother. "How 'bout you get up on that chair there and sit on the end of the table. Then, when I get him into the seat, you can show me how to do the buckles up?"

The kid paused, looking Bobby up and down, glancing over at the chair, and back up at the table. He did this round a couple of times before looking back at Bobby and nodding once.

"Okay…" Bobby held out his hands and allowed the boy to gently place his little brother in his arms.

The baby gurgled up at him, hands flying around his face, baby gibberish spewing from his lips.

Bobby carefully stood up, noticing how the kid clocked every small movement he made. Bobby had a feeling that if he screwed up, he wouldn't have to worry about John coming back and getting angry. Bobby could see the tension in the kid's body and knew that he would turn into an absolute Hell Hound if Sammy got even one scratch.

In a few quick bounds, the kid was up on the edge of the table, already leaning in to do up the buckles on his brother's car seat once Bobby had the baby safely inside.

"Alright, we good?" The kid nodded once. "Good. You hungry?" Again, a nod. "And Sammy. Is he hungry?" Another nod. "Can he eat Cheerios?" The kid nodded once more and sped out into the hallway, dragging in a small bag that Bobby hadn't noticed before. Inside he found a single packet of formula, a baby bottle, and a sippy cup.

Big Brother unscrewed the lid of the sippy cup and placed it on the table next to Sam, handing the cup part to Bobby.

The expectant eyes slightly unnerved him, but Bobby had seen enough crappy TV to figure out what to do. He poured a small handful of Cheerios into the cup and handed it back to Big Brother, who climbed back onto the table to hand it to his little brother.

"Okay, Sammy…no mess, okay?" he heard the kid plead quietly.

"De'!"

"Yeah, it's De'. No mess, okay?"

"No!"

"Thanks Sammy…"

Big Brother crawled halfway down so he could sit on the kitchen seat, leaving Bobby standing by the fridge.

"You want hot dogs, kid?" The kid shrugged and Bobby sighed, pulling out the kitchen chair next to him and sitting down. "Look, we've got ourselves a situation here. I ain't good with kids. Never had any of my own, so I don't know the first thing about takin' care of you or your brother. And I sure don't know how to break you out of whatever funk you're in right now, but I'm gonna level with you. We're stuck together until your Daddy gets back, alright? So, way I see it, we need each other. I need you to show me how to take care of your brother in case there's something you can't do. And you need me for more adult stuff, right? Like cooking or cleaning or stuff that costs money. So, how's about we make a deal? I'll help you take care of your brother, you help me make sure I don't screw things up too bad. Sound like a good deal?"

The kid considered it for a moment, and Bobby could hear those gears turning in his head once more. He smiled to himself. This kid was different than any other snot-nosed gremlin he had come into contact with before. This kid was smart. And stubborn. And there was a grown man shining out of those green eyes that made Bobby think that, between the two of them, they might actually survive until John showed back up.

The kid nodded at him and stuck out on of his little hands. Impressed, Bobby shook on it.

"Alright then, first things first. I can't keep calling you kid now, can I? So, you want to tell me your name so I'm not shouting "Hey you" when we have to head to the grocery store tomorrow?"

A small giggle escaped the kid's lips and Bobby counted it as another victory. He had a feeling that this kid hadn't had much to laugh about over the past couple of months.

"Dean."

"Well then, Dean. What d'ya say about having hot dogs for dinner?"

Dean nodded again, but Bobby figured it was a start.

None of the Winchesters could have guessed how things could have turned out after that. They never could have expected that, between motel rooms, Sam and Dean practically grew up in Bobby's junk yard. They never could have expected that, after such a rocky start, Dean would idolize Bobby almost as much as he did his own father. Nobody could have guessed that, when Sam went off to college, Bobby would be the one listed as both of those idjits emergency contacts. Or that he would become known as Uncle Bobby.

But that's how it was. And that's what Bobby was thinking about when he sat down to write Sam his letter.

It had been a risky play for sure to spring Bobby from Heaven in order to spring the Scribe of God from his jail cell but, once Bobby knew the bare bones of what was going on downstairs, he understood. Neither of his idjit boys could think straight when the other one was in danger. Lord only knew how many times he had to pull Dean back from the edge when Sam was in Hell, and vice versa.

But he knew Dean. Admittedly and unfortunately, he knew Dean a little bit better than he knew Sam, but that's because Sam always had Dean while Dean…well, he was lucky to have Bobby. And Dean…Bobby had seen first hand just how far Dean was willing to go to save his brother, but he had also seen first hand how badly it had torn Sam up inside to find out a few days later exactly what the price of his resurrection had been.

That's what was on Bobby's mind when he had written his words to Sam out. He wanted to say things to Sam that he had never had the chance to say before. Things he had also said to and about Dean, only to find out that Dean wasn't listening. But Sam would take them to heart. Bobby just knew it.

"Sam…

So…this is weird, huh?

Look, I just wanted to say that Cas told me what you're doing for Dean. And I'm not asking you to stop, but maybe going behind his back ain't the best idea. Your brother, he can be stubborn. But I think he'd understand. And I know it's the life…doing a little bad so you can do a lot of good. But sometimes the bad's real bad and the good…it can come at one hell of a price. I ain't there on the ground, and whatever you do, I know you'll make the right choice. You're a good man, Sam Winchester…one of the best. And I'm damn proud of you, son.

I was content up here. But getting the call from you, it's the happiest I've been in forever, no matter what it costs. So, stay safe, keep fighting, and kick it in the ass.

Bobby."

Bobby sat thoughtfully in his chair, pondering the words he had written. He hoped he would make an impact, but knew that Sam would never stop looking for a way to save Dean.

He wondered what kind of punishment he would get for freeing Metatron as a squad of angels burst into his Heaven and stood behind him. But, in the end, it didn't matter. Because, even now, Bobby Singer would do just about anything for those boys. His boys.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed that! I think it has been my favourite chapter to write for a while, so I hope you all liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please drop me a review if you have the time. Have an awesome week and I'll see you back here on Wednesday!