Raising Winchesters

Chapter 9

Bobby Singer wasn't anything like Dean expected. After hearing his dad and Pastor Jim talk about the man, he expected some old, angry man who hated children and would especially despise them for imposing on his life. By the end of the first day there, though, Dean thought that maybe, just maybe he was wrong.

Pulling up into the driveway of the tired-looking home, John stepped out of the Impala and looked around. After studying the outside of the house and surrounding yard, he called for Sam and Dean to get out. The three of them went around to the trunk of the Impala and John unloaded their bags. John grabbed his own bag and a bag of weapons, while Dean grabbed the two duffels that belonged to him and Sam.

Struggling to carry the two heavy duffels, Dean followed his dad and brother up the stairs and onto the small porch. Before they could knock on the door, though, it opened to reveal what could only be Bobby Singer. The gruff old man merely grunted when John introduced them, barely resting his eyes on the two smallest Winchesters before turning back to their father.

"Thanks for agreeing to this, Singer," John said, resting his hands on the shoulders of his sons. "I promise you won't even know we're here."

"This place isn't kid-friendly, Winchester. There's a lot of stuff that can cause problems if your boys get into it," Bobby growled.

"My boys know how to keep to themselves, so it won't be a problem."

Bobby spared another look at Sam and Dean, obviously finding it hard to believe that they wouldn't bring about some sort of trouble. "There's a room upstairs that the boys can share and another one downstairs for you. If you want, you can go get settled in and I'll see about coming up with some grub."

"When can we start training?" John asked.

"We'll talk about that after dinner," Bobby answered. "The boys' room is at the top of the stairs, first door on the right. There's a bathroom right next to it. Your room is down that hall, first door on the left. Give me an hour and I'll have dinner ready."

Dean and Sam watched as the man turned and walked away, leaving them alone with their dad. John grabbed Sam's hand and started walking to the stairs. "Grab your bags, Dean."

Dean grabbed the two duffel bags and hastily followed his dad up the stairs. Once they were at the top of the stairs, John quickly led them into the bedroom they would be sharing. Sam and Dean both looked around the small room, surprised to see that it was actually pretty big. There were two twin-sized beds by the window with a small table in-between. There was also a chest of drawers and a tall bookshelf that was full of old books.

Dean threw the duffels on one of the beds. "How long do we have to stay here, Dad?" he asked.

John, who had already started unpacking Sam's duffel, answered gruffly. "I don't know, Dean. It could be a while."

"I don't like it here," Dean said simply.

Sam, who was picking up on Dean's mood, echoed him. "I don't like it here, too."

"Either, Sammy," Dean corrected. "You don't like it here, either."

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

"Dean, I know you'd rather be at Jim's, but we're here now and you're going to have to deal with it." Looking at both boys, he continued. "I expect you two to behave yourselves and do what you're told. We're guests in this house and I expect you to be on your best behavior. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Dean answered.

"Sammy?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Okay, then. You boys finish unpacking. I'm gonna go downstairs and unpack my stuff. I'll call you down in a little bit." John walked to the door, but turned back to his boys. "No roughhousing, okay?"

Dean nodded his head. Once John had left, Dean turned back to the bed and opened his duffel. He was almost done unpacking when Sam interrupted him. "Dean? I need to go to the bathroom."

Dean closed the dresser drawer before grabbing Sam's hand and leading him out of the bedroom and to the bathroom. "There you go, Sammy," he said as he opened the door.

Sam peered into the small bathroom, but didn't go inside.

"I thought you said you had to go," Dean said.

"I do, but it's dark in there, Dean. I don't like the dark, remember?"

Dean opened the door wider and walked into the room. There was only a small window in the room, so there was very little natural light. Dean looked for the light switch, but couldn't find it anywhere on the walls. Just about giving up, he finally noticed a chain hanging down from the lightbulb in the middle of the ceiling. Unfortunately, he wasn't quite tall enough to reach the chain.

Sam, who by this time really had to go to the bathroom, was doing a weird little dance that made Dean snicker. It also made him speed up his search for something to stand on. He knew that once Sam started squirming, there wasn't much time left before he peed his pants.

"Dean, I really have to go," Sam whined, squirming non-stop.

"I know, Sammy! I'm trying to find a way to turn on the light." Dean finally decided to try standing on the toilet, hoping he could reach the chain that way. Standing as tall as he could and reaching out as far as he could without falling, his fingers skimmed the small chain.

"Deaaaannnn…." Sam whined.

Without a second thought, Dean jumped from the toilet seat, grabbing the chain as he flew through the air. Luckily, he was able to pull on the chain enough to turn on the light before it fell out of his hand. Landing with a loud thud, he laughed as Sam ran into the bathroom, taking his pants down along the way. A minute later, Sam was done and he looked at his big brother in relief.

"Thanks, Dean," he said with a smile.

Before Dean could answer, a loud voice boomed in the small room. "What's going on in here? What was that thud? Did you break something already?"

Dean turned to find Bobby standing in the doorway, looking rather angry. "No, sir," he answered immediately as he pushed Sam behind him. "I, uh…. I just…. I couldn't reach the chain to turn on the light, so I, uh….. I jumped."

Bobby looked from Dean to the chain still swinging slightly in the middle of the ceiling. "Oh," he said. "Why didn't you just ask for help, then?"

"I couldn't," Dean explained. "Sammy had to go to the bathroom real bad. He couldn't wait."

Bobby looked down at Sam and Dean was pretty sure his eyes softened a little bit. "I didn't realize that you wouldn't be able to reach the light. I'll fix it."

"Thanks," Dean said quietly. "Sorry for jumping off the toilet."

"I guess I can't blame you for that," Bobby said with a small smile. "Seems like you're a good problem solver."

Dean couldn't help the rush of happiness he felt at the compliment. "I had to do something. Sammy needed me to."

Bobby didn't seem to know what to say to that, so he just turned around and walked out of the bathroom. Dean didn't know what to make of the man, so he just turned his attention back to his little brother. "You gotta wash your hands, Sammy," he said as he picked the boy up and held him up to the sink. Sam quickly washed his hands and then dried them on his t-shirt when he couldn't find a towel.

"Now what?" Sam asked Dean.

"I guess we go back to our room until Dad calls us. You can pick out which bed you want, okay?"

Dean led Sam back to the room and watched as he tried out both beds, trying to find which one was the softest. Sam chose the one closest to the door, but Dean quickly changed his mind by bouncing up and down on the other one, exclaiming how bouncy it was. Sam loved bouncy beds and Dean always made sure that he was in-between Sam and the door wherever they stayed.

An hour later, John knocked on the door before opening it to tell the boys that dinner was ready. Sam was laying on his bed, playing with the few toys he always kept with him and Dean was sitting at the foot of the bed, reading through a comic book he had read at least ten times before.

"Hey, boys…. All settled in? Are the beds comfortable?"

Sam jumped up onto his knees and started bouncing. "Mine's the bounciest, Daddy," he said with a big grin.

"Sammy, stop bouncing on the bed. You know better than that," John scolded.

Sam immediately stopped bouncing, his big grin fading into a pout. "Dean said I could bounce a little," he said quietly.

"Who's in charge here, Sam? Me or Dean?"

"You are, Daddy."

"I am. And I say no bouncing, kiddo." John gave Dean a pointed look, too, making sure the boy knew he meant it. "Are you boys hungry? Dinner's ready."

"I am!" Sam yelled as he jumped off the bed. "Dean is, too. I heard his tummy growling really loud!"

John laughed at that before turning serious again. "Bobby made dinner for us and I expect you to eat what he's cooked. Remember, we're his guests."

John turned and led the boys down the stairs and into the kitchen. Dean helped Sam into a chair before seating himself in one, as well. Looking at the platters on the table, both boys were happy to see that Bobby had made fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Unfortunately, he had also made peas.

While John and Bobby were talking, Dean started filling his and Sam's plate with chicken, potatoes, and bread rolls. He hoped that John wouldn't notice the absence of the peas on their plates, since Sam hated them and he didn't really like them, either.

Motioning for Sam to start eating, Dean did the same, hoping to finish before their dad and Bobby stopped talking. They were almost halfway through when the conversation seemed to stop and suddenly both hunters turned their attention onto the boys.

"Looks like you two were hungry," Bobby said as he looked at their quickly dwindling plates of food. "You boys didn't get any vegetables, though."

Dean swallowed his food before answering. "This is really good, sir. Thanks for cooking it for us."

"No need to call me sir, kid. It's just Bobby. Now, how about some vegetables?"

"That's okay, sir….uh, Bobby. Sammy and I are pretty full already."

Dean's head turned to his father at the sound of him clearing his throat. "Dean, have some vegetables. Bobby went through the trouble of making them for us, so eat up."

Dean started to argue, but the look on his dad's face stopped him before he got started. Without a word, he took the bowl of peas and put a scoop on his plate before setting the bowl back on the table.

"Give your brother some, too, Dean," John ordered.

Dean picked the bowl back up and put a much smaller scoop on Sam's plate. Sam immediately started whining.

"I don't like peas," the four-year old cried. "Take 'em off, Dean!"

"Sam, eat your vegetables," John said sternly. "And stop whining."

"I don't wanna! I hate peas!" Sam shoved his plate away from him and crossed his hands over his chest in protest.

"Sammy…" Dean pleaded, trying to keep his little brother from getting into trouble. But, one look at his dad told him that he was too late.

"Sam, what did I say? Stop whining and eat your peas."

By this time, Bobby was looking on, completely appalled by what was happening. "John, it's okay. I didn't know the boy didn't like peas or I would have made another vegetable."

"That's not the point, Singer. My boys know that they're to eat what's put in front of them. And they know to obey orders."

"Dad, please," Dean tried. "Sammy really, really doesn't like peas. Please don't make him eat them."

John glared at his oldest son. "Stay out of this, Dean. Sam? You're not leaving this table until you've eaten everything on your plate."

Dean looked at his little brother, not surprised at all to see big fat tears rolling down his face. The last time he had been made to eat peas had ended with him throwing up all over himself. It was obvious he wasn't eager to repeat that. It was also obvious that the boy wasn't going to give in to their father's demands. Dean knew that Sam could be really stubborn and he had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

Not knowing what else to do, Dean started shoveling his own helping of peas into his mouth, wanting to just get it over with. A few times, he felt like he might throw up, but he was able to keep it all down. Once he was done, he sat at the table, keeping an eye on his little brother. John and Bobby had returned to talking about how they were going to handle the training John wanted, but Dean couldn't help but notice how Bobby kept looking at Sam with a sad look on his face.

After the two men were done eating, John told Dean to clean off the table. Dean stood and started collecting the plates to take to the sink. Looking slyly over to his dad, he started to pick up Sam's plate, but was quickly stopped.

"Leave that there," John commanded. "Sammy's not done yet."

Dean watched as a fresh batch of tears started down Sam's red face, but he didn't know what to do. After clearing off the table, Dean returned to his seat, not wanting to leave his brother when he was in trouble.

"Go find something to do, Dean," John ordered. "You can go on outside, but stay in the yard and stay away from the cars."

"I don't really feel like going outside, so I'll just stay here."

"That wasn't a suggestion, son. Go on."

Dean took one last look at his brother, who was staring miserably at the table in front of him, before finally standing up and walking out of the room. He hated leaving his little brother to face their dad alone, but he knew he didn't have a choice.

Almost an hour later, Dean opened the front door and stepped back into the house. He could hear the voices of his dad and Bobby coming from the direction of what he thought was the library, so he quickly made his way into the kitchen. He wasn't surprised to see Sam still sitting dejectedly at the table, staring down at the plate that still held the despised peas.

"Sammy, come on…." Dean pleaded. "Just eat the peas and then we can go do something fun."

Sam's tears started anew. "I can't, Dean. I'll throw up and I don't wanna throw up."

"Sammy, Dad's not going to let you up until they're gone."

"I know, but I c-c-can't, Dean."

Dean stopped to listen again for the sound of the two hunter's voices, making sure they were still occupied in the library. Once he was sure they were still there, he looked down at his brother. Sam looked up at him with his big, tear-filled eyes and Dean instantly knew what he had to do. Without a second thought, he grabbed Sam's spoon and started shoveling the cold peas into his own mouth. Without even taking the time to breathe, he put spoonful after spoonful into his mouth, swallowing them without hardly chewing them at all. He was eternally grateful that he had given Sam a smaller helping than his own, but it still seemed like an awful lot of peas.

After his fifth spoonful, he was finally done and he was trying hard not to throw up.

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said with a watery smile.

Dean just looked down at his little brother. "Listen, Sam…. I'm gonna go back outside and act like I never came in, okay? You call Dad and tell him you're done. You better not let him find out what I did, Sammy. He'll be really mad."

"Okay, Dean," Sam said, still relieved not to have to eat the peas.

Dean left the kitchen and made his way back to the front door, hoping to get out before he was caught. Just as the door closed behind him, he heard his brother call out for their dad.

John and Bobby were just getting into the good part of how to kill a Rawhead when they heard Sam calling from the kitchen. Bobby watched as the man threw the book he was reading onto the table before standing up and heading for the kitchen.

In the few hours he had spent with John Winchester and his sons, Bobby had learned several things. First, John Winchester was a hard-ass. Second, Bobby could already tell that the man was an excellent hunter with excellent instincts. He could also tell that the man was stubborn and persistent and would more than likely be difficult to get along with. In just the first few hours, he could tell that John was a strict parent who expected to be obeyed immediately. He couldn't help but think that the man reminded him just slightly of his own father.

He could tell that John loved both of his boys immensely, but the man seemed to be treating them more like they were soldiers under his command than the actual kids that they were. When Jim Murphy called him to tell him that he knew a hunter that needed some training, Bobby had been ready to help. Hell, he'd even been excited. But, when he found out that said hunter had two small sons, he had had second thoughts.

Although, he wasn't raised in this world himself, having only become a hunter after his wife died, he knew that it wasn't the place to raise children. Hunting hardened a man and a hardened father wasn't good for any child.

He could tell in the first few minutes of meeting Sam and Dean that they were already used to having a hardened father. Especially, the oldest boy. He would never admit it, but his heart ached at the thought of what growing up as John Winchester's son meant for Sam and Dean. They were in for a helluva life.

Getting out of his chair, he quickly followed John back into the kitchen, hoping to corral the easily angered man. He entered the doorway to find Sam still sitting at the table, the plate in front of him finally emptied of peas. John was staring down at his youngest strangely and Bobby was trying to figure out what was going through his head.

"You ate all those yourself?" John finally asked his son.

"Yes, Daddy," Sam answered in a small voice.

John looked around the room, obviously looking for where Sam might have stashed the peas. He checked the trash and the sink and even looked in the partially filled glass of milk that was still sitting in front of the kid.

"Where's your brother?" John suddenly asked Sam.

"He's out there," Sam said as he pointed out the window. "Can I go play with him now, Daddy?"

"Just a minute," John announced before he went over to the door and called Dean in. Seconds later, Dean was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking at his father ruefully. Bobby took in the look on Dean's face, wondering if the boy did indeed have something to hide.

"Dean? The peas are gone off your brother's plate. You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"

Dean threw Sam a quick look before answering his dad. "I've been outside, Dad. Like you told me to, remember?"

John eyed Dean closely, looking for signs that the boy was lying. "You better not be lying to me, boy."

"I'm not, Dad. I swear!" Dean had his hands behind his back and Bobby didn't miss the fact that the boy's fingers were crossed.

John turned his attention back to Sam and stared at him for several long seconds. "The next time I tell you to do something, you do it, Sammy. Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy," Sam answered.

John stared at both of his boys, not completely believing that they were telling the truth, but not having any way to prove it. Bobby cleared his throat and motioned to his wristwatch, obviously eager to get back to work. He was also eager to spring the boys from under their father's critical eye.

"Okay, then." John stepped over to the table and picked Sam up. After a quick hug, he put the boy back down and gave him a light swat on the rear. "Go play with your brother."

Sam ran over to Dean and pulled on his arm, eager to get away from their father and the still half-full bowl of peas on the stove. "Let's go, Dean!"

Dean looked over at his dad and then over to Bobby, who was giving him a knowing smile. He allowed Sam to pull him towards the door and just as he passed Bobby, the man reached out and tousled his hair.

"Stay away from the cars, okay?" Bobby reiterated. "They're too dangerous to be playing in."

"Yes, sir," Dean answered. Without another word, Sam and Dean stepped out onto the porch, happy to be out from under their father's watchful eye.

"That was close," Dean sighed, finally feeling like he could breathe again.

Sam had already ran out into the yard and was spinning in circles. "Come on, Dean! This is fun!"

"I ain't doing that!" Dean laughed. When he saw the look on his brother's face, he explained. "Sammy, if I spin in circles like that, I'll be spewing out green peas everywhere!"

"Yuck." Sam's face made Dean laugh even harder. As he watched his brother spinning carelessly in the yard, he thought to himself that maybe staying with Bobby Singer wouldn't be so bad, after all.

Author's note: Yay! Bobby is finally in the picture. He's one of my favorite characters and I love writing him with the boys. He was definitely more of a father to Sam and Dean than John was, so you really can't help but love him, right? Even if he is old and crotchety. I hope I captured him well in this story.

Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter/story.