Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and Warner Bros.
A/N – Another chapter is here! Thank you to all those who helped with my American Healthcare and American education questions, especially the reviewer who quite wisely told me not to worry too much about it. Since the story isn't focused on those elements at all, I've decided to stay as true as possible to reality, but not get too obsessed with the details, so apologies if you spot any errors in the future. Feel free to point them out! For now though, on with the story!
A Home For Wayward Sons
Chapter Six
Dean waited for his brothers to leave and for the door to firmly close shut behind them before he rounded on Bobby and directed a even stronger glare in his direction.
"You hurt them," Dean threatened, good arm bracing his ribs as he tried to pull himself up a little bit more. "And I'll kill you."
"Look, son…"
"I am not your son!" Dean hissed. Dammit, his little jaunt to the bathroom had probably done more harm than good but even so, he didn't regret it. He had proven to himself that he could get out of bed and walk if he needed to, that was all that mattered.
"I know that, you ingrate," Bobby shot back, accompanied by another eye-roll, completely unbothered by Dean's ire. Which of course only stoked Dean's anger. "Look –"
"You didn't have to pay my medical bills either," Dean argued. "I'll pay you back."
"I owe your daddy one from a while back," Bobby replied with a shrug. "Consider that debt square."
Dean had no idea whether that was true or not – John was never particularly forthcoming on what went on during the hunts Dean and his brothers weren't a part of - but it still felt wrong. His dad had laid into him time and time again that Winchester's didn't accept charity. Admittedly, Dean had ignored his dad on more than one occasion when the act of accepting charity had helped his brothers – he'd swallow his pride in a heartbeat to get them something they needed – but when it was just him on the line, hell no.
"I'll pay you back," Dean repeated stubbornly. He wished he could cross his arms, but had to settle for another glare to make his point.
"I ain't accepting a dime from you, boy," Bobby replied, equally stubborn. "Get used to it. If it makes you feel better, you can help me in the yard when we spring you outta here and you're back on your feet. You can work off the debt the old-fashioned way."
Dean ignored the suggestion, however reasonable it might be, in favour of letting his anger get the better of him. Dean didn't like being out of control, and having Singer dictate things to him was pushing all the wrong buttons. Dean had never dealt particularly well with authority, even if this particular authority was an overweight hunter wearing flannel and a truck hat.
"I'm leaving now," Dean replied, arm still wrapped around his ribs. "Just as soon as I get my breath back."
He was a little dizzy too, and his ribs were screaming at him to take a break, otherwise he'd already be up and searching for his clothes. Idly, he wondered what had happened to the clothes he had been wearing in the accident, and if they were a lost cause. They barely had enough money for food, let alone new clothes, and Dean had already been down to his last good pair of jeans, so he hoped they were salvageable. At the very least, he hoped Sam had rescued his amulet and was keeping it safe. Sam knew how much that meant to his older brother…
"As far as the law is concerned, you're in my custody until your dad gets back," Bobby argued. "Which means it's up to me. And I say we let the doctors decide when you can leave."
"And if I tell them you're lying and that you're no more my uncle than the freaking mailman?" Dean challenged.
"Then the social workers will be on your ass straight away and you know it," Bobby replied. "From what your daddy has told me about you, Dean, you ain't as dumb as you're making yourself out to be."
Dean breathed in sharply and tried to reign in his panic. It was difficult though, because Bobby had hit the nail right on the head of the thing that he was most scared of; being separated from his brothers.
They'd had close calls before, when Adam was younger and Dean was less experienced in wrangling two young boys without drawing the attention of busy-bodies and nosy neighbours, but it'd been a while since the last time and he had got complacent.
Idiot, Dean berated himself. He should've just taken Sam and Adam to school on the bus, like any normal kids, and worried about the money later. Now they were up shit creek without a paddle and relying on an out of shape, grumpy old hunter to keep them out of reach of social services, who Dean knew would take Sam and Adam away from him in a heartbeat if he gave them any reason to.
Dean tried to calm his rising panic, but he couldn't help it. He didn't trust anyone to make sure they were okay, not when he knew how shitty the world could be. He had always shielded them as much as he could - took the bad stuff on his own shoulders so it didn't fall down on them - but he couldn't do it if they were dumped in different foster homes. How the hell could he protect them then..?
Dean pushed down the growing fear, but couldn't stop the clawing anxiety that came from being backed into a corner. And when cornered, Dean's instincts always told him to fight like hell to get away.
"They can't watch me the whole time," Dean challenged Singer. He didn't know if he was talking about the hospital staff, the police, or the social workers. Not that it mattered, they were all the same. "I'll run. I'll get the boys and run."
"I'll get the doctors to tie you down if I have to," Bobby replied, and the look in his eyes showed he was being entirely serious. Dean swallowed hard – he hated being restrained – but he refused to back down.
"You wouldn't dare," he said.
Singer folded his arms. "Try me."
They glared at each other, Dean from his hospital bed and Bobby standing above him in what Dean refused to treat as a position of power.
Given that a nurse would be coming in soon with medication that was likely to knock him back out again, Dean decided it was time for another tack.
Dean cleared his throat. "Listen…"
Singer's phone interrupted Dean this time, the shrill tone grating on the teenager's already frayed nerves.
Singer fished it out of one of his many pockets and flipped it open to answer, holding a finger up to stall any further argument from Dean.
"Singer," he answered.
Unrepentantly, Dean strained to try and hear the other side of the conversation, but the phone volume was too quiet and Bobby had stepped away from Dean's bed to answer the call.
"Bout time you got in touch, been trying to get a hold of you for hours," Singer told the caller. "You get my messages then?"
There was a bit of back of forth then, between Bobby and the caller, but Dean didn't learn anything useful, so he decided it was instead time to make his presence known.
"Wonder if they know you're keeping a boy hostage," Dean said, raising his voice so that it would be heard by whoever was on the other line. Dean winked at Bobby. "An underage boy…"
Singer glared at him and put his hand over the phone to cover up the mic. "Shut it, ya idjit."
Then to Dean's surprise, he held the phone out for Dean to take.
Singer rolled his eyes. "It's your daddy, kid. He wants to talk to you."
"Oh," Dean said, anxiousness replacing anger almost instantly. Shit. As much as it had been worrying him that no one had been able to get hold of his dad, he had still been dreading the call.
His had always told him to stay out of trouble – any kind of trouble – because trouble would attract attention and attention was bad when a sixteen year old kid was taking care of his younger brothers for weeks on end while his dad was nowhere to be found. Dean knew the accident hadn't been his fault, but that never mattered to his old man. Trouble was trouble.
With a deep breath, Dean took the phone and held it to his ear. "Dad?"
"Are you alright, Dean? Bobby's message said you got hit."
Dean felt a little bit of his tension leave him. Dad sounded worried, which meant he still cared. So he hadn't done anything unforgivable at least…
"I'm fine, loada fuss over nothing," Dean told him, trying to sound casual even as a slight shift in his position caused pain to shoot through his chest. "Tell Bobby he can let me leave the hospital."
"You listen to the doctors, Dean," his dad replied, his voice firm. "If they say you need to stay, then you stay."
"But Sam and Adam…"
"- Will be fine with Bobby until you're up on your feet, soldier. Bobby and I planned for this, since we knew this hunt would take longer than normal. That's why I left you in Sioux Falls in the first place, just in case."
"In case I got hit by a drunk driver," Dean replied moodily. His dad has started to get him more involved with hunting over recent years, but obviously he still didn't trust him enough to let him know everything. Dean tried to pretend to himself that it didn't hurt, but it did. It always did.
"Dean, this is not a suggestion. You and the boys will stay with Bobby until I can swing by and pick you up."
Dean glared at Bobby who was making no effort to hide the fact that he was listening to every word. "I don't trust him."
"Well I do. Decision has been made."
Dean knew better than to argue with his dad in this mood – or any mood for that matter - so he changed tack. "When are you coming back?"
Dean held his breath but his dad didn't reply immediately. Dean didn't want to admit it, but the accident has scared him. He felt completely out of his depth and with social services also breathing down his neck, and school to deal with at some point, Dean really wanted his dad to come back and take over.
His dad sighed. "Dean…"
Dean clenched his jaw and tried to ignore the sharp pain in his chest that had nothing to do with his broken ribs and everything to do with being let down yet again. He should've known better than to wish for something he couldn't have. The hunt came first, sons second. Not even a car accident would change that. Dad wouldn't come back until the hunt was over.
Well, Dean thought, screw him. He'd managed on his own before, he could do it again. Granted, his body was a bit broken, and he couldn't really think straight at the moment, but he'd saved the boys once, he'd be able to do it again if he had to.
"S'okay," Dean replied, squaring his shoulders and wincing when he accidentally jerked his broken collarbone. "I'm good. We'll be fine. As soon as I get sprung from here, I'll take Sam and Adam back to the motel…"
"I won't say it again Dean, you're staying with Bobby while you recover, Dean. No arguments."
Dean felt a bristle of welcome anger at the order, but pushed it back with practiced ease. It wasn't like his dad would know if he followed it since the man clearly wasn't going to take time out of his busy schedule to see if his sons were okay.
"Sure," he replied. "Can't wait to stay with Uncle Bobby."
"It's an order, Dean," Dad replied. "You hear me? And I'll be checking with Bobby to make sure you follow it."
"Yes, sir," Dean ground out. And they were back to the lack of trust…
Screw. Him.
"Now let me speak to Bobby."
Dean passed the phone back to Bobby without even saying goodbye. His dad wouldn't care so what was the point. He just wanted his kids dealt with so that he could focus back on his hunt. Dean wished it didn't hurt, but the sharp pain in his chest was still there as evidence that it did.
Still, as he had done countless time during his crappy childhood, Dean sucked it up, took all the hurt and disappointment and anger, and shoved it all into the box he kept locked up at the back of his mind. As long as Sam and Adam were okay, it didn't matter, he told himself. Didn't matter how hurt he was, as long as they were okay. And he could still make sure they were okay, even if he had to stay at Bobby's to do it.
Dean was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice when Bobby said his goodbyes to John and turned his attention back to Dean.
Bobby frowned at him, but seemed a little uncomfortable. "You alright, kid?"
"Why do you care?" Dean asked moodily. He wanted Sam and Adam to come back – now that he knew his dad wasn't coming back, he had an irrational need to check on them, make sure they were okay.
"They'll be fine," Bobby said knowingly. It annoyed Dean no end that Bobby had read him so easily, and he made a note to work on his poker face some more.
"You don't know me," Dean told him. "Just because the high and mighty John Winchester has decided to dump us on you, doesn't mean anything changes. We'll be outta your hair as soon as we can."
"Not any time soon then," Bobby replied. "Lookit, I didn't choose this either, boy. You think I want some snot nosed kids up in my business. You and your brothers need help and I'm willing, but you need to meet me half-way."
"What's in it for you?" Dean asked. Then he smirked. "You ain't some pervert, are you?"
"Your daddy leave you with perverts often?" Bobby shot back.
Dammit, the man was hard to ruffle, but Dean had always liked a challenge, and so far he hadn't met an adult he couldn't royally piss off.
"Shut up, you don't know anything about us," Dean replied coolly.
Singer raised an eyebrow, and frowned, looking back at the phone in his hand. "I know you're sixteen, but I can already tell you're more of a daddy to those boys of yours than John is."
"Well bully for you," Dean replied. He was in no mood for a serious conversation. "I'm also an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women."
Bobby raised his eyebrows. "Frisky women? You're sixteen."
Dean smirked. "Late bloomer, were you? Beside I gotta do something while the boys are at school."
"You're sixteen," Bobby repeated. "You're at school too."
"Not all the time," Dean scowled. "And not by choice. Dad won't let me quit."
"Why in the hell would you quit?" Bobby asked. "Them frisky women?"
"Me and school don't really…click, you know. Be more use if I got a job, earned some cash."
"You that hard up?" Bobby asked. "Does John not leave you cash?"
"What cash? He doesn't have any either," Dean replied, then he mumbled. "Not that he'd share, anyway."
"That's…"
"Crap," finished Dean. "But you know what the hunting life is like. Priorities are different for us than they are for normal people. Anyway, I can handle it, it would just be easier if I had a job, that's all."
Then a thought hit him. "Hey, since you're looking after us, that mean you can give me permission to quit school?"
Bobby snorted. "If I ever get the desire to be killed by John Winchester, I'll consider it."
Dean scowled. "Right."
"Look Dean, I ain't the enemy," Bobby sighed. "I'm a hell of a lot better than social services, so just deal with it."
"Right," Dean muttered. "Not like I have a choice anyway. Dad'll kill me if I disobey a direct order."
"That's the spirit," Bobby deadpanned.
Dean longed to claw back some control.
"We're staying in the same room," Dean stated. "Sam, Adam and I. We're staying together."
"Makes no difference to me, as long as you're tidy and you don't go touching stuff that isn't yours."
"And I'll get them what they need," Dean further demanded. "You ain't some nanny for us, I can look after them. You got that?"
"Wouldn't have a clue what to do anyway. Not like I've had kids stay before. Adam even potty trained?"
Dean stared at him, wondering if he was being serious. Dammit, it looked like he was. "You're kidding, right?"
"What? Ask me how to exercise a demon or how to release a restless spirit and I'm your guy but I ain't got no clue how to care for kids."
"Adam's five," Dean told him in disbelief. "I potty trained him years ago. Oh and Sam and I are potty trained too, just in case you were wondering."
"Good to know," Bobby replied with no trace of humour on his face.
This was going to be worse that Dean thought…
"Why the hell did my dad agree to give you temporary custody?" Dean asked out loud, but his heart dropped immediately when he realised the answer to his own question. They would be safe and out of suspicion if they stayed with Bobby and that was all that mattered; whether or not they were cared for was not on the agenda. That was Dean's job, although how he was supposed to achieve that with one bad arm, one bad leg, and plenty of bad ribs was anyone's guess.
"Who the hell knows?" Bobby asked, as if the difficulty of the task thrust upon him had finally hit. "Not like I'd be anyone else's first choice. Lack of options?"
Dean snorted. "Probably. Not like we know many people. We move around so much, s'not easy to make friends. And dad's friends ain't the sort of people you want looking after kids."
"Present company excepted?" Bobby asked with an eyebrow raised.
"We'll see," Dean replied, and he was pleased to find it sounded like a threat.
"Yeah, I guess we will," Bobby replied.
Before Dean could continue the conversation, set a few other ground rules, the door opened, Sam and Adam walked back in.
Adam was sucking on a lollypop – Dean had no idea where Sam had scrounged that from - and Sam was looking back and forth between Dean and Bobby, with a frown on his face.
"Everything okay?" he asked Dean, his gaze raking over his older brother as if he could get the answer from simply looking. His question was directly solely at Dean since Sam was still studiously ignoring Bobby, and Dean felt a rush of affection for his brother at the act of solidarity.
"Peachy," Dean replied, forcing a smile for Adam's sake more than anything. Sam would see right through it.
"So what's the plan?" Sam asked.
Dean sighed. He looked at Sam, who looked tired, and Adam, who looked scared and tired. Dean couldn't help them, couldn't make anything better, and he hated it. It was his one job, and he couldn't even do that properly, not in the condition he was in at the moment. Dammit...
Dean sighed again and pointedly avoided looking at Singer before giving Sam the bad news. "Dad's still hunting and with social services on our backs, we ain't got a choice. It looks like we'll be staying at "Uncle" Bobby's for a while."
A/N - So how was it? I'm glad people are enjoying this story so far, despite the irregular updates! If anyone has any feedback, I'd really appreciate hearing it, good or constructive! In the meantime, I'll be hard at work on the next chapter, so if there's anything you'd like to see (read), please let me know! Until next time, and as always, thanks for reading!