Five days after

Bobby looked out the window repeatedly searching for headlights. The Winchester boys, well Dean, told him that they, him and Sam, were on the way over to him five days ago. Bobby knew that they were far away, and therefore knew something was wrong. Why would they travel across the country if it wasn't an emergency? He wondered why John wasn't coming. He wondered why Dean specifically had told Bobby not to call his dad. Had something happened to him? Were they angry at each other? Bobby knew that John could be a jerk sometimes, but never to the point of his sons leaving him. It must be bad.

Bobby put the kettle on.

They should have arrived this morning. Hopefully nothing's wrong. Bobby looked out the window again, foolishly hoping that the headlights would appear. Any second, Bobby thought.

Half an hour pasted and Bobby was still musing about what had happened.

Have the idjits been fighting again? Bobby continued in his head. How bad can it be? It was only when terrible things went wrong that the boys, and usually with their father, came. He remembered a few years back when they spontaneously dropped by after a hunt. Bobby immediately knew something was wrong. He rushed forward to see what it was when he saw the horrific sight of Dean's arm twisted the wrong way and dark bruises covering Sam. They had been hunting a werewolf and things got out of hand. Dean blacked out after it hurt his arm and said that he couldn't remember how Sam got hurt. Bobby remembered later when he tried to see the extent of Sam's damage, but he refused. That was three years ago.

Must be an early bloomer, Bobby thought back then, grinning a little.

He searched the driveway again. No sign of any Impala. He grabbed the kettle and poured a cup of coffee, smiling a little at how well the hunt with Rufus went yesterday. The smile faded. Honestly, he was more than worried about what had happened with the Winchesters.

It was midnight when he saw the Impala pull up in front of the house.

Three days after

They left the motel at noon not having rented the room for any longer.

"Alright there, Sammy?" Dean asked smiling at his brother. He knew that they would arrive late at Bobby's, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that Sam was at least okay, if not great. He knew that he should call Bobby, but couldn't bring himself to it. Hopefully, he wouldn't be angry with them showing up late, but how was he going to explain why they were late? He knew Bobby would ask into it, only to have his heart crushed.

"Fine," Sam replied still staring out of the same familiar window but with the different scenery. Sam hadn't said anymore than the occasional word ever since they had left the motel. He was ashamed of what he'd done. He should have expected Dean to come back. He pressed his head harder into the cold window hoping that it would subside his headache, and other aches, but as expected, it didn't. He still felt like shit and didn't dare ask Dean for any more painkillers. He knew the answer.

"Come on Sam, talk to me," Dean said playfully pushing Sam's shoulder a little.

"'bout what?" Sam asked drowsily.

"Like… What do you want to do when we get to Bobby's?" Sam raised an eyebrow. That was what he wanted to talk about?

Talk about anything to get your mind off everything, Dean thought.

"Take a shower." Sam said. Dean laughed a bit too loud.

"Me too, hey do you want to stop for dinner soon?"

"Dean, it's five thirty. We had lunch four hours ago."

Yeah, and you ate nothing, Dean snapped back but not aloud.

"Come on, there's a diner over there."

"Fine."

Five days after - midnight

Dean stopped the car, they were finally at Bobby's. He stepped out, wondering if Bobby was asleep. He then noticed that the lights were on. He grabbed his duffel and went towards the house. Sam followed.

Dean didn't even have to knock before the door opened.

"Where have you been?" Bobby asked as he opened the door to reveal the boys' surprised faces. He turned white when he saw Sam's woeful, bruised, and cut face.

"Took a little longer than expected," Dean answered gravely. Bobby let them in. He really wanted to ask what was going on, but seeing the boy's looks, he decided to wait till later.

"Can I get you boys anything?" Bobby offered.

"Sam would like a shower and some coffee for me would be nice," Dean replied with a smile. Bobby nodded curtly and told Sam where the towels were. He heard a faint "thanks" when Sam walked past him. He put the kettle on for the eighth time that night.

SPN-SPN-SPN

Sam looked himself in the mirror; he looked absolutely terrible. His nose was swollen and a band-aid was placed across it. His eye, which was healing from the bullies, was black again. The rest of his face looked fine, except from the blue mark around his jaw and the fading small cuts.

Sam turned on the shower and waited for it to get hot, preferably scolding. Sam trembled. His body ached and he was still drowsy even though he'd slept for nearly the whole ride. He was grateful that he had managed to get some food down.

He stood beneath the hot water letting it cleanse his battered body. He was alone with his thoughts for a while.

SPN-SPN-SPN

"So, what's the occasion?" Bobby asked curiously, pouring the coffee into two mugs. Dean tensed up.

"It's um… It's dad," he said at last. Bobby stopped.

"Has anything happened to him?"

"Yes, I did," Dean stated. Bobby sat down in front of him. He nodded, handing Dean one of the cups.

"What did he do?" Bobby asked taking a sip of the steaming beverage. Dean tensed up even more and adjusted himself in the seat.

"He hit Sam," Dean said. Bobby nearly choked on his coffee.

"He what?!" He exclaimed, but not loud enough so that Sam could hear the outburst under the running water. "He did that?" Bobby asked pointing towards the bathroom door indicating to the bruises on the younger brother's face.

"It's a long story," Dean said in a shaky voice.

"We've got all night," Bobby said as the shower turned off. Dean gave a small smile that faded as he remembered Sam's and his conversation on the way over to Bobby's.

Sam had been thrashing around in his sleep again. He was finally awake and was staring out the window as the dull scenery flashed by.

"Hey Sam, want to tell me what your nightmares about? I know you've never slept well, but you've been thrashing around even more than usual," 'and I've been worried sick,' Dean ended in his head.

"My body hurts," Sam halfly lied. Dean sighed.

"Well, you know if I give you more painkillers it'll become an overdose."

Dean put a, what was meant to be comforting, hand on Sam's knee, when Sam nearly screamed.

"Whoa! Whoa Sammy," Dean said, wide eyed. "Sorry."

The lump in Sam's throat was enormous.

"He's going to kill me." He croaked out.

Dean watched as Sam emerged from the bathroom wearing a bunch of wet clothes, not having dried himself properly. Sam gave a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes; the same smile he'd been giving for ages. He then spoke up.

"Is it okay if I head to bed?" Sam asked. Bobby smiled warmly.

"Sure, just remember to check the salt lines," he answered. Sam nodded and went.

"So, John," Bobby continued in a low voice when Sam closed the bedroom door. Dean sighed looking gloomily down in his black coffee.

"I punched him." Dean said.

"Good." Bobby answered. "He deserved it."

"No, I mean yes, I mean I really beat him up badly Bobby," Dean said. Bobby only nodded.

"Serves him right," he agreed, to which Dean agreed as well. John deserved what he did to him, he deserved worse.

"Do you know where John is now?"

"Left him on the ground like a bloody mess." Bobby nodded. He sat up, taking both cups, refilled them, and sat back down handing Dean the now full cup.

"Is this the first time John has hit Sam? You said that it was a long story." He knew that John could be a massive dick sometimes, but not to the extent of hitting someone - hitting his own child.

"No, and yes to the latter," Dean said. Bobby held his breath.

"Sammy," he muttered under his breath. Dean was looking back into his bitter coffee.

"Has John done anything…"

"Else?" Dean finished. "No. He tried to kill him though." Bobby's grip of the coffee mug was so tight that Dean was amazed that the cup hadn't broken yet.

"And how long has this abuse been going on?" Bobby asked maybe a bit too aggressively.

"I don't know, he didn't tell me. He just said too long."

"And the rest of the long story?"

"A quick version is that a Wendigo broke Sam's ribs. John and bullies from his school beat up Sam as well. It was last hunt, a salt and burn, that John aimed a gun at Sam."

This is too much to take. Bobby thought.

"And um…" Bobby was speechless. He watched as a tear trickled down Dean's cheek. He looked at Bobby, their sad eyes meeting.

"Bobby," his voice was as brittle as glass. "He tried to kill himself."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it!

Thank you for reviewing, it's been great to hear what you think about the story. :)