This is an idea that was swimming in my head that I shared with pricelesstrashpanda. I decided to write it and just make it a Christmas present to her.

Love you and hope you enjoy it 3

I hope everyone else enjoys it too!

~TH~

In the life of a hunter, things changed, Bobby Singer knew that. The past year had brought drastic changes in the life of the Winchester's which had of course just as drastically affected the life of the hunting mechanic.

Sam Winchester was at college and John Winchester was who knew where chasing whispers of a chance to avenge his dead wife, but Dean, Dean Winchester was always right there. Dean was the one who didn't leave. Dean was the one crashing at Bobby's place because, despite everything, he was still just a confused, scared kid.

Bobby knew that everything that had ever offered Dean any comfort had been stripped away. Everything except for his old childhood refuge in South Dakota.

The boy looked rough. His eyes bloodshot, bruises fading on his face, peeking out from around his T-shirt, and darkening his arms. And while Dean had always been able to hold his liquor, Bobby found his new-found tolerance concerning.

Dean stood up from the kitchen table almost in a daze, one that the boy had been in and out of since he had shown up at the junkyard almost a week ago. He'd switch back into his old self, laughing at Bobby for getting old and making crude jokes, only to clam up again and freeze as if remembering this isn't just a quick stay with his brother until their dad finished another job. His brother was gone and there was no real certainty that his dad would ever come back.

Bobby felt for the kid but was unsure of what he could do to help other than give him cars to fix and treat him as if nothing had changed.

The faraway look in Dean's eyes magnified as he froze, plate in hand, staring at the empty seat usually reserved for Sam. The plate slipped, causing a loud crash as the plate fractured on the floor.

Dean's breath hitched and accelerated as he stared at the shattered pieces of glass. "Nonononono, 'm sorry, 'm sorry, 'm sorry." He began muttering almost in a panic.

Bobby's eyes widened. Not at the plate, but at the sudden terror Dean was exhibiting. He looked shell-shocked like he couldn't breathe. The old man shot out of his chair, reaching for the boy who had become like a son to him. "Dean?"

Dean flinched backwards, nearly falling in his haste to get away. His eyes were blown wide with panic, his arms coming up to cover his face as if expecting to ward off a blow. Bobby stopped, feeling the air leave his lungs as he listened to Dean's short, frantic breathes in between his clipped and ragged apologies.

The pieces clicked into place and Bobby felt unadulterated rage well up inside of him. He'd assumed the bruises and large handprint sized marks on Dean's body were from nothing more than the life of a hunter. A hunter who was used to having back up and was now a lone hunter. But this, this reaction sent coils of hot anger down into the very essence of Bobby Singer. In that moment Bobby hated John Winchester. Hated him more than he even hated himself and that was an extremely rare occurrence.

"Dean." He snapped, short, clipped, and more forceful than he had meant.

Dean stopped the muttering, flinching hard before bringing his arms back down from his defensive position. He still looked pale and afraid but seemed to be more in control of himself. More like the twenty-two-year-old he was and less like a scared twelve year old.

"Dean," He said again, this time softer, "I need you to listen to me and listen to me good. I will never hit you, do you understand me?"

Dean looked dumbfounded, his hands now at his side clenching awkwardly.

"I-I know that Bobby." He said quietly. "It's just..." he trailed off, bringing a hand up to rub over his face, "It's just been a rough couple of months."

"I'm serious Dean. I would never intentionally hurt you and I need you to understand that."

"I DO Bobby, I promise. I know you won't ever hurt me." He offered one of his trademark grins, trying to lighten the mood. "You couldn't hurt this pretty face if you tried."

Bobby didn't laugh. He found nothing about this situation humorous. He still felt ready to slug John as soon as he has the misfortune of showing his face. "Dean, if..." He cut himself off, feeling drained. "Does your daddy-?"

"Don't. Don't Bobby." The smile dropped from Dean's face and his voice became dark and deadly serious. "Don't ask questions you don't want answers to."

Bobby gritted his teeth, the already boiling anger about ready to spill over. It was just as much an answer as a straightforward 'yes' would have been. "Maybe it's best that he don't come back." He muttered under his breath. He meant it to. He should have known Dean would hear him and would never agree with him.

The boy looked terrified, eyes widening in blind fear, "No, no Bobby! No! He'll come back. He will." The old man wished Dean had said it in fear of the man's return, and not as if it was a prayed matra, wishing him back. "And it's gonna be fine. He jus- just misses Sam and isn't sure exactly what to do with himself yet. He has to come back, Bobby."

And Bobby felt a little guilty at forcing such a rise out of Dean but he didn't take what he said back. "Dean-"

"I'm fine Bobby. Really. If I wasn't I do something about it. I'm not an idiot. I can take care of myself. I know you would never hit me, Bobby. I just freaked out for a second, okay?" His eyes were begging for him to understand.

Bobby took a deep breath, "Okay, Okay, I'll drop it. But you have to promise that if it ever get's too bad you'll get out. Come here. Find your brother in California. Go off on your own. I don't care, but just promise me you won't let him go to far."

"I promise Bobby, It's not like that. I'll get out if I need to. I swear." The panic was still there, tinting every word.

"Okay." Bobby said trying to force himself to be calm and hoping it would soothe the younger hunter. "Okay."

Dean nodded, "I'll, uh, I'll clean up the glass now." He said almost awkwardly.

"You do that." Bobby answered, ignoring his own unfinished plate of food and walking out of the room, trying to let his anger go.

He did let it go until a drunk John Winchester showed up and took a swing at Dean. Bobby chased him off his property with a cocked shotgun. He regretted the action only because it was over three years before he saw Dean again, standing on his front porch asking for help to find his daddy.

~TH~

I'll probably post Sonny's chapter next. I meant to post it first, but I just couldn't get it to flow right. After that I'll have a chapter with Sam to finish it off. (Unless of course someone wants to see someone else react to Dean's issues).

Come say hi on Tumblr and ask about my view of John Winchester's abuse.

Anyway, I hope everyone that celebrates will have a very very Merry Christmas and very very happy New Year!

Leave a comment and makes my Christmas better!

God bless,

Jamie