Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Still don't own them

A/N Thank you to Soar for her awesome beta work. I don't know what I would do without you. Any left over mistakes are completely mine.

"Dad," a voice from behind called John. John wasn't expecting anyone and he visibly startled. He turned and saw his youngest son coming up behind him.

"How'd it go?" Sam asked curiously, although his facial expression showed his concern.

"I'm not sure," John answered honestly with a shrug of his shoulders. "We talked about a lot of things, but I'm not sure what actually hit home. Sometimes, with your brother, it's so hard to tell."

"Has to keep his game face on," Sam said sadly.

"I made so many mistakes. I'm lucky to be getting a second chance, with both of you," John replied as he hugged his younger son.

Sam accepted the embrace and when his dad let go, he peeked into the bedroom. Dean looked peaceful and was sleeping lightly. Sam took that as a good sign.

"It's been a long day, dad, for all of us. I think I'm going to go lay down and read for a bit. 'Night," Sam said. John read the unspoken words behind this. I want to be with Dean in case he needs me.

"Okay. 'Night, Sam," John said. His unspoken words were read by Sam as well. Call me if anything happens with Dean.

Sam watched as his father walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. He knew his dad was trying, Sam just wished it hadn't taken Dean almost dying for it to happen. He changed into his bedclothes and lay on the bed next to his sleeping brother and for once, Sam acted like the older sibling and kept watch over Dean.

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Frank and Bobby joined John in the kitchen, they wanted to know how things had gone. John told them the same thing he had told Sam, he wasn't sure.

An awkward tension filled the room. In order to break it, Frank asked John to share his favourite memory of Dean. John thought about the first time he had been alone with his son. That was his favourite memory, but it was private, so he told them about Dean's first experience under the hood of a car.

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1982

Three year old Dean Winchester woke from his nap. He climbed out of his big boy bed and plodded down the hall to call his mommy, because Mommy had told him not to walk down the stairs without supervision.

"Mommy," he called at the top of his lungs. "Nap done."

Mary, who was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and a harlequin romance in her hands, her secret pleasure, sighed and looked at the clock. At least this time he had managed a whole half hour. Her son hated to nap, it was almost as if he was afraid he was missing something. John swore it was because Dean had spent most of the first two months of his life sedated and had slept enough.

"Coming, Dean," she answered before he could get impatient.

Mary walked up the stairs and escorted her young son down. He states that he was thirsty and Mary took him to the kitchen for a drink. Once he was seated at the table with some milk, he asked, "Where's Daddy?"

"He's out in the garage," Mary replied, gently smoothing his baby hair away from his face.

"Did the car swallow him again?" Dean asked fearfully.

Mary tried not to smile. A couple of days ago, she and Dean had been outside playing when she turned her back for a few seconds. When she turned around, she found Dean missing. She was just about to panic when Dean let loose a terrible scream. He had wandered into the garage, looking for his Daddy, and found him with his legs sticking out from under the car. The three year old, immediately thinking that John had been attacked, screamed. John, startled by the noise, smacked his head on the undercarriage and immediately slid out from underneath. He found Mary and a hysterical Dean.

"Dean, buddy, what's wrong?" John asked with concern.

The blood from the small cut where he had hit himself made Dean worse.

"Mommy, don't let it hurt daddy," the small boy cried.

John looked at Mary. "It's okay, Dean-o," she said trying to explain. "You tell me what you think is hurting daddy and I'll take care of it. Nobody or nothing messes with my boys," Mary said with authority.

"Yeah, buddy, mommy will protect us," John agreed.

"Don't let the car hurt daddy, mommy," the three year old said as he buried his head into his mother's chest.

John and Mary, not wanting to hurt Dean's feelings, held back the temptation to laugh. Instead, Mary said seriously "I won't, Dean-o. You go inside with Daddy for some cookies and I'll take care of it," Mary said as she handed Dean to John.

"I love it when you get authoritative," John said as he took Dean in his arms. He turned back to Dean. "Come on, buddy, we'll let mom do her thing and go get some broccoli okay," John said as he named Dean's most hated food. He got the reaction he was hoping for. Dean instantly forgot about the car.

"Yuck, daddy, mommy said cookies. Mommy, daddy's not listening," Dean tattled. "Is he going to get a time out?"

"Yes, he's a bad boy. He'll get his time out later tonight though," Mary said with a wink to John.

John took Dean in the house, while Mary remained in the garage trying to compose herself.

In the house, John took Dean into the bathroom and wiped his face and then took him to the kitchen for cookies. Soon, Dean was munching away happily, all his troubles forgotten.

"Mommy?" Dean prompted again when Mary didn't answer and Mary came back to the present.

"No, Dean-o, the car's not hurting him. I took care of that. I gave it a firm talking to. You know how you went to the doctor last week and he checked you out to make sure you weren't sick?" Mary asked.

"Yeah, I don't have to go back do I? I don't want to. I like my big boy bed," Dean emphasized.

Mary smiled wistfully. At 3, Dean had already spent more time in hospitals than most people did in their lifetimes. "No, Dean-o, you don't have to go back today. That's what Daddy's doing with the car though. He's checking it out to make sure it's healthy. Daddy's like a doctor, except he looks after cars instead of people," Mary tried to explain in a way the toddler would understand.

"Is it going to get a shot?" Dean asked sympathetically. He suddenly felt sorry for the car, thinking of what the doctors did to him.

"It might," Mary said lightly.

Before Mary could say anymore, John walked in.

"Daddy, did you have to give the car a shot?" Dean asked seriously.

John looked at Mary in confusion and she gave him a small smile that said play along, I'll explain later.

"Not this time," John replied.

"It's lucky. Dr. Keeping gave me a shot when I was at the doctor's. I hate shots," Dean explained with a shudder.

John smiled sadly. He hated what his baby boy had already been through.

"I know, buddy, and you were very brave. I'm not that brave when I have to get a shot," John said.

"Was the car okay, Daddy?"

"It will be soon," John said.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked.

"I need to check some things on the car to make sure it runs properly," John explained.

"Like Dr. Mike, when he checked my heart," Dean said as he named his cardiologist, Dr. Mike Smith. Dean had to have an evaluation on the hole in his heart every so often, to determine if it needed to be repaired.

"Just like that, buddy," John explained.

"Can I come with you, daddy?" Dean asked.

"Why?" John asked.

"Because you and mommy are with me when I have tests. I think someone should be with the car," Dean said seriously.

Both John and Mary smiled at each other over the top of Dean's head.

"I don't know, Dean-o," Mary said hesitantly. She didn't want Dean to get hurt.

"It's okay, Mary," John reassured his wife. "Yes, you can come, but you have to listen to what I say, Dean. This is very serious. If I tell you to do something, you have to do it without question, if you promise me that, then you can come," John said as he crouched down to his son's level.

"Yay!" Dean shouted. He loved spending time with his dad.

"First though, I don't want you to ruin your clothes so go and get your raincoat out of the closet, okay?"

Dean's first thought was to ask why he needed his raincoat if it wasn't raining, but then he remembered what his dad had said and ran to the closet.

"Are you sure about this, John?" Mary asked worriedly.

"It's okay, Mary," John assured her once again. "I'm not going to do any repairs, I'll just show him a few things. There's nothing there that can't wait until tomorrow, when he's at the sitters."

"Just be careful alright," Mary warned.

"Always. Now why is Dean asking about the car?" John asked curiously.

"I told him you were a car doctor. I guess he wants to make sure you're a good one," Mary grinned.

"I love you, Mary Winchester, did I ever tell you that?" John said as he stepped up to his wife, pulled her gently toward him and held her loosely around the waist.

"Just this morning, but you can tell me as often as you like," Mary said as she leaned forward and kissed her husband.

"Yuck," came a voice from behind them. "That's gross."

"Later," John promised Mary. "Come on, buddy."

John took Dean into the garage with him and got out his extra dolly, that would allow him to roll under the car easily. John explained firmly to Dean that they weren't toys and he was never to touch them. Dean agreed and commented that they reminded him too much of hospital stretchers anyway.

Dean quickly became fascinated by everything John was showing him. When John had finished explaining the undercarriage to Dean, he took him around to the front of the car and popped the hood and explained everything there.

"Is that where it gets IV's?" Dean asked when John showed him how he topped up the car's fluids.

"Sort of," John explained as he reached out and ruffled Dean's shaggy hair. He really needed a hair cut. "Am I a good doctor, Dean?" John asked.

"You're like Dr. Mike, Daddy. I like him, he tells me what's going on and he tells me if it's going to hurt. You're not like Dr. Keeping, he's an ass," Dean said with as much conviction as a three year old could.

"Jonathan Dean, you know you're not supposed to say bad words. Now where did you hear that?" John scolded his son lightly as he tried not to laugh.

Dean frowned. His dad only called him that when he was mad, but he looked like he was smiling so Dean thought that he wasn't all that mad.

"From mommy, after my 'poinment. The doctor said something to mommy, mommy looked mad and then called him an ass. I don't think mommy likes Dr. Keeping, but I'm not sure. I think the car likes you though," Dean said with a grin.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy. Why do you think mommy doesn't like Dr. Keeping?"

"Mommy looked mad when she called the doctor an ass, but yesterday, she was smiling when she said you had a nice ass. Daddy, what's an ass?" Dean asked with curiousity. The word confused him.

John picked up Dean and hugged him. "Tell you what, buddy, mom's the expert, so we'll let her explain that one, okay? Now, let's say we go get cleaned up and take mommy out to dinner. You can ask her then," John said trying to get Dean off the subject.

"Yeah, can we go to MacDonald's?" Dean asked happily.

"Let's let Mommy pick the restaurant."

"Okay," Dean said agreeing. "Oh and Daddy?"

"Yeah, buddy, what is it?"

"When I get big, I wanna be a car doctor like you. I'll look after our car like you do," Dean said with an infectious grin.

"I don't doubt it, buddy, now come on."

"I love you, daddy," Dean said as he let his head fall onto his father's shoulder, snuggling into the man's warmth and strenght.

"Me too, kiddo, I don't know what I would have done without you this afternoon," John said and he placed a gentle kiss on Dean's soft hair.

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Frank and Bobby were nearly in of laughter at John's story. They could picture Dean doing exactly what John had described.

"Did Dean ever ask Mary?" Frank inquired.

"Yup, right in the middle of the crowded restaurant. I don't think I ever saw Mary so embarrassed. That poor waitress even ended up spilling a water glass," John said with a chuckle.

"John, you must have had your hands full," Frank stated. "Guess that explains Dean's fascination with cars."

"You don't know the half of it, Frank," John commented.

"He was so good with them," Bobby interjected. "I don't think there's a car he can't fix."

"John, can I ask you something?" Frank asked. "What's your favourite memory of Sam?"

A huge grin lit up John's face. "I thought you were going to ask me something hard. That would be the day Sam was born."

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1982

That night, after they got back from the restaurant and Dean was put to bed, Mary and John had a quiet night of just enjoying each other's company. They were getting ready for bed when Mary spoke.

"Dean's been pretty healthy lately. I mean, he was only in the hospital once this year."

"We're pretty lucky, Mare. We have a great kid," John said happily.

"I agree. Dean wants a brother," Mary announced suddenly and she looked at John nervously.

"Are you…?" John trailed off.

"No," Mary said regretfully. "But I'd like to be. We make beautiful babies, Winchester."

"I know, Mary. I want more kids too and I think that Dean would be the best big brother ever, but what about…?" John left the thought unfinished. He didn't like to talk too much about Mary's complications. It reminded him too much of how close he had come to losing his son.

"I'm worried too, John. That's what I asked Nathan about at Dean's appointment. He advised me against it and said all the same things would happen and this time, we wouldn't be so lucky. I swear that guy's an..."

"Mary Margaret Winchester, you really need to watch your language. You never know who's listening."

"I bet you're the one that put our boy up to that stunt in restaurant, Jonathan Dean Winchester Sr," Mary said accusingly.

"It's your own fault," John defended himself.

"Did you see the look on that waitress' face? I thought the poor girl was gonna faint," Mary giggled.

"It almost matched the one on yours," John reminded his wife.

"That's what I love about kids," Mary admitted. "They're so honest. You wouldn't believe some of the things I've heard my third graders say."

"I can imagine," John said rolling his eyes.

"Seriously, John, what do you think about trying again?"

"I want to give Dean a baby brother or sister, Mary. I was an only child and it's something I always wished for," John replied. "I say we give Dean his wish. I'd love to have another child, but I have to admit, I'm nervous."

"Me too, but look at Dean, John. He's living proof that doctors don't know everything," Mary pointed out.

"Mary, what do you say we prove that quack wrong again," John stated.

"I agree. Let's," Mary said with a wild glint in her eyes.

Nine months later to the day, 7lb 10 ounce Samuel Francis Winchester entered the world.

Despite the signs that all would go well, both John and Mary were extremely nervous about what would happen during Mary's pregnancy. Their fears were proven unfounded though, as Mary's pregnancy was textbook from beginning to end. Both Mary and John were greatful. Mary had even more reasons to be happy because she was able to work things out with her father, temporarily.

She had taken Dean to the hospital because he had his check up with his cardiologist. Mary liked Dr. Smith a lot. He treated Dean with respect, he made sure that Dean knew what was about to happen and that he understood it, but most importantly, he made Dean aware of what was going to hurt. Unlike that other idiot who treated Dean like he didn't know black from white.

The test that Dean was having today was one of the more painful ones, so Dr. Smith had opted to sedate Dean. While he was sleeping off the effects of the medication and Mary was waiting for the results, she decided to go get a cup of coffee. No sooner did she leave the room than she saw her father for the first time in over three years.

"Mary," Frank greeted.

"Hi, dad," Mary returned Frank's greeting stiffly.

"How have you been?" Frank asked tentatively.

"I'm good, no, better than good. Great actually. I couldn't be happier," Mary said genuinely.

"I can see that," Frank said indicating Mary's swollen belly.

Mary grinned and placed her hand on her stomach. "How have you been?"

"Things are going well at the office," Frank commented.

"That's good," Mary said. "And mom?"

"Margaret's... well she's Margaret," Frank said wryly.

Mary grinned. She knew what her father was saying.

"Are things okay with...?" Frank trailed off.

"Yeah, dad, things are going great. No complications whatsoever. Knock on wood," Mary said with a grin.

"I'm happy for you, Mary. I really am and how's um...?" He wasn't sure how to address his grandson, he knew that Mary had named him after John, but he didn't know what sort of nickname he went by.

"Dean," Mary supplied.

"How's Dean?" Frank asked.

"He's had a few problems," Mary said honestly. "He's prone to infection and he has a hole in his heart, but it doesn't really seem to bother him. The doctors have to keep on eye on it but despite everything he's been through, he's a real little trooper and his dad and I couldn't be more proud of him."

"Mary, I'm sorry," Frank said.

"I know you are, dad," Mary said. "But it still doesn't change what happened."

"Mary, do you think you can ever forgive me? I miss you so much. I want to get to know my grandsons or my granddaughter, if that's what you have."

Mary wanted to tell her father what he could do with his apology, but he was her dad. Despite everything, she loved him and she hated to deprive her son of his grandfather.

"I think it's grandsons, Dad. Dean informed me that I'm having a boy," Mary said as she extended an olive branch.

Frank smiled for the first time in years. "Smart boy, just like his mother."

Mary checked her watch. "Dean should be waking up soon. I better get back, he doesn't like waking up in the hospital alone. Maybe we can get together for coffee tomorrow."

"I'd like that, Mary, thank you," Frank said gratefully.

"Dad, this is your only chance. Don't blow it," Mary advised wisely.

When Mary got home that night, she told John about her run in with her father. John understood and he wanted to put the past behind them too. Even better, that day, Dr. Smith informed them that everything was okay with Dean's heart, no surgery was necessary for the time being.

During the next few months, Mary and Frank started to repair their relationship. Until things went smoothly between herself and her father, Mary decided to limit Frank's contact with Dean, in case they couldn't work things out, she didn't want to have to explain to him why grandpa stopped coming over. It wasn't quite the same, but both father and daughter would take what they could get.

May 2, 1983 started like any other day. John got up and got ready for work, but just as he was about to leave, Mary called out to him.

"Um, John, do you think you can get the day off? Mary said with a hitch in her voice as she tried to keep the pain out her tone.

"I don't know," John teased. He was self-employed and set his own hours. "The boss is a real jerk. Why?"

"Because it's time," Mary announced.

"For what?" John asked like a typical male.

"You idiot, it's time," Mary said through a clenched jaw as she was hit with another contraction.

"Oh, oh, why didn't you say something?" John said causally as if Mary had said it was time to go to the store for a quart of milk.

If Mary hadn't doubled over at that point, it would have been the last thing John ever said.

Never one to panic, John called his friend Mike to let him know what was going on. He dropped his eldest off with his friend. Mike was planning to take Dean to the garage to keep him occupied while his mother was at the hospital. This time, the delivery went much smoother and John watched and heard his child enter the world.

"It's a boy," Dr. Mackinnon announced. When Mary had had no problems with this pregnancy she went back to her regular doctor.

Mary started crying as she heard her new son announce his arrival. He definitely had a healthy set of lungs. John leaned over and kissed her and told her how proud of her he was. Then he started crying as well when they laid the baby on his mother's stomach.

"Dad, you want to do the honors?" Dr. MacKinnon asked, handing John the scissors to cut the cord, which John did proudly.

Mary reluctantly let the doctor take the baby after the cord was cut. Mary never broke eye contact with her new baby boy as the doctors weighed him and cleaned him up, and they returned him to his proud parents.

"Everything looks good Mary, John. Ten fingers, ten toes, good birth weight. Any thoughts on a name?"

"I'm leaning towards Samuel, after his grandfather," Mary said and John felt his eyes tear up again.

"I like it," John said as he voice wavered, his dad would have been so proud.

Later that day, Mary was in her hospital room when they brought Dean in to see his baby brother. Dean's face lit up like a kid at Christmas.

"What's his name, mommy?" Dean asked.

"I'm thinking Samuel," Mary said with a smile.

"Hi Sammy, I'm Dean. I'm your big brother and I promise to be the bestest one ever out of all the big brothers."

The baby seemed as fascinated with Dean as Dean was with the baby. Both Mary and John recognized an instant connection between their two boys. When visiting time was over, Dean didn't want to leave, but they eventually managed to pry him away from his little brother's side a little while later and Kathy took Dean home.

"He's so beautiful, Mary. You were so right, we do make beautiful babies. Thank you for making me that happiest man alive," John said, his voice choked with emotion.

"Hi, Mary," a voice from behind them called.

John and Mary looked up and greeted Frank.

"Is that him?" Frank said to the little bundle wrapped in a soft blue blanket and sound asleep beside his mother.

"Yup, this is your grandson, dad. Come say hello," Mary said softly.

"Hello. I'm your grandpa," Frank said softly as he greeted his new grandson, "He's perfect, Mary."

"So was, Dean," John said coldly before he could stop himself.

"John!" Mary warned.

"Sorry," John apologized but there wasn't much sincerity in his tone voice.

"Mary, you can name him Jackson if you want," Frank offered. Upon reflection, Frank would later realise that this was one of those times when he'd spoken before he really thought about what he had said. Frank was being sincere though, and he would have made the same offer no matter what, but unfortunately, it sounded like Frank had picked his younger son over his older one. No one did that.

"I don't believe you!!! How dare you. Is that the only reason you tried to make things right? You thought this would be another chance. It doesn't work like that, Frank. If Dean wasn't good enough, thenneither is Sam," John ground out in a voice as loud as he dared. Mary would kill him if he woke Sam.

"John, please, I didn't mean that the way it sounded," Frank pleaded.

"John, dad, stop. You know, dad, we made a promise to you. I said we would name our son after you. I keep my promises," Mary said firmly. "Dad, meet Samuel Francis Winchester, and say good bye. I don't want to see you again, dad."

"Mary, please, don't do this," Frank begged.

"No, dad, you don't get to pick one of my sons over the other. Now get out before I call security," Mary ordered coldly.

Frank, not wanting a scene, slunk out of the room. He was so stupid. He glanced back and saw his daughter holding her son. That was the last time he ever saw Mary.

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Frank wiped tears out of his eyes and John instantly felt bad. He had forgotten that was not a happy day for Frank.

"I'm sorry," John offered.

"No, I'm the one who's sorry," Frank said.

"We've had enough hard feelings lately," Bobby said. "Let's focus on good ones."

"I agree," Frank said. "Your turn, Bobby. What's your favourite memory of the boys?"

"I'd be interested to hear that one myself, Bobby," John said.

"I have lots of good ones, but most of them are better told when the boys are here so they can be sufficiently embarrassed. But as for my favourite memory, let me think a minute," Bobby paused. "I would have to say it was the fist time I met all three Winchesters."

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1986

Bobby Singer was sitting at the desk in his home office, going through his books. He was trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. He was seriously going to have to hire someone for this.

Ring, Ring.

Glad for a reprieve, Bobby pushed the books back and grabbed the phone.

"Hello," he greeted.

"Hey, Bobby. It's Caleb," greeted the caller.

"What's up?"

"Hello, to you to sunshine," Caleb said with a snort of suppressed laughter

"You want something or are you just calling to annoy me?" Bobby ground out.

"As muchfun as that is,I do have another purpose," Caleb explained. "You up for training a newbie?"

"How new?" Bobby asked curiously.

"He's been training with me and Jim for the almost 3 years and doing some jobs here and there on his own. He's lucky he hasn't gotten himself killed. He needs to learn about demons. Name's Winchester," Caleb explained.

"Like the rifle?" Bobby asked.

"Yup. He just about damnnear killed himself trying to do an exorcism. He's going to need to learn from the best."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Caleb. Go ahead and tell him to come."

"Sure thing, only there's on other thing." Caleb noticeably hesitated.

"What?" Bobby felt his apprehension start to grow.

"He's got his kids with him."

"Caleb, you know how I feel about kids. How am I supposed to teach their father with two brats running around destroying everything I own?" Bobby complained.

"They'regood kids, Bobby."

"There's no such thing," Bobby said bitterly.

"I know you're thinking of Orvall's kids,but trust me,Bobby, Dean and Sam are nothing like Eric and Don. I wouldn't ask,but he's a widower. He got no one else," Caleb said.

"You keep them while I train the father then."

"He won't go anywhere withoutthem. Please Bobby,I wouldn't ask if I had any where else to send him."

"I don't like it, but tell him to come," Bobby sighed heavily. "Just tell him he'd better keep his brats under control and out of my way," Bobby instructed.

"Thanks,Bobby, I owe you one."

"No, you owe me 107, but who's counting."

"You are," Caleb said and they both laughed.

"Damn straight. Goodbye, Caleb," Bobby said and hung up on his friend.

Just what I need,he thought. It had been 3 years since he'd last seen his brother. The last time they had been here was a nightmare. They had never gotten along,but Orvall and his wife Becky,and their kids, 12 year old Eric and 9 year old Don were travelling through and passing right by. They had just intended to stop for a few minutes,but as fate would have it, Orvall's car had broken down shortly afterward and knowing his brother was a mechanic,they just had the car towed to Bobby's yard. Bobby had had to order a part inand was told that the earliestthey could get it there was in three days. Due to a convention,all hotels in town were booked solid,so they had no choice but to stay with Bobby. It was three days ofhell for both brothers.

Orvall hadconstantly berated him for not following in their father'sfootsteps and going into law. Bobby had a college degree,but he had always enjoyed fixing and working on cars, so when he graduated,he opened his own garage and hunted part time. Becky justkept looking down her nose, as if Bobby's home didn't measure up to her standards,but the kids were the worst.

Orvall and Becky were well off and their kids were spoiled brats. Bobby's house wasn't overly large,but he did have a spare bedroom,used mostly by hunters who needed a place to stay,or those whowere training with him. It contained two twin beds, and he also had a den with a pull out couch. He put his brother and sister in law in the den and the two boys in the bedroom. Immediately,the kids started complaining that they didn't want to share a room, they wanted their own. Bobby offered them the porch, but Orvall was not amused.

To make matters worse,the kids expected to be waited on hand and foot and did everythingthe opposite of what Bobby told them to do. He told them to stay away from his books and they had almost completed a summoning ritual by the time he caught them. Then they discovered his salvage yard. Bobby really didn't want them down there, he had nightmares of what could happen. He caught them one day and dragged them out of it and chained the gate. They complained to their parents that they had nothing to do, Bobby didn't have cable or video games or anything fun. Orvall tried to get Bobby to let them play in the salvage yard, after all,what harm could they do. Bobby didn't want to find out so the lock remained on the gate. The brothers did the only other thing they could think of, they complained about everything.

Bobby was never so happy to see them leave.

Two days later, John Winchester arrived. He greeted Bobby and thanked him for taking them in. Then he opened the back seat of the car and two little boys spilled out of the back. Both boys hung back. They weren't supposed to talk to strangers unless their dad said it was okay.

"Boys," John said addressing the youngsters. "This is Bobby. We're going to be staying with him for awhile. He has some things to teach me," John explained, crouching down at his son's eye level.

"Are you going to school, Daddy, like Dean does?" the smallest boy addressed his father.

"Sort of, Sammy. Bobby, these are my boys," John said with pride. "This is Dean, he's seven and this is Sammy."

"I'm this many," Sammy said as he held up three fingers. He turned to his big brother. "Dean taught me that. He knows everything. Right, Dean?"

"Not everything, Sammy, but you did a good job with your numbers," Dean said proudly.

"Dean, can you get yours and Sam's bags from the back for me," John instructed his eldest son.

"Yes, Sir," Dean responded.

Bobby led them into the house and he noticed that while Dean was as quiet as a church mouse, Sam more than made up with for that. He never stopped talking.

"Dean, come on," John said to the boy as he lagged behind.

Bobby watched the middle Winchester. He seemed to be staring at all the cars in Bobby's yard as if he had died and gone to heaven. Bobby hoped he wasn't going to have to chain the gate again.

"Sorry, dad," he said and scrambled to catch up with the bags he was carrying.

Bobby put John in the den and he put the boys in the bedroom.

"Excuse me, Sir," Dean addressed the older man shyly.

Bobby was startled by how the boy addressed him. "Yes, Dean,"

"Dad said we would be here awhile. Should we unpack, or leave things in our duffle bags? He never said."

"You can unpack. You can use the dresser right there and you can call me Bobby," the older man said gruffly.

Bobby then watched as Dean helped Sam unpack their few belongings. He was surprised once again when Dean actually had taken the time to fold the things he was putting he. He also noticed that he showed his brother how to do it properly.

"Supper will be ready in about a half hour," Bobby said finally. He couldn't explain it, but he felt himself softening toward the young boys.

"Thank you," Dean said politely and turned his attention back to Sam.

Bobby just shook his head. There was no way this was going to last. He was surprised and pleased at how wrong he was.

Over the next couple of days, Bobby started John's training. The boys remained well behaved and Bobby was learning to tune out Sam's constant need to talk about everything. Bobby was amazed.

He found himself alone in his office one evening, John and the boys were watching TV, when Bobby had the distinct feeling that he was being watched. He looked up and saw a short, blond haired boy staring back at him.

"I'm sorry," Dean said as he prepared to run back to the living room. He wanted to ask Bobby about the cars, but his dad had said not to bug him.

"What's up?" Bobby asked the child finally.

"I was wondering if I could ask you something. You seem busy though. Never mind," Dean said and his shoulders slumped and his body began to turn away.

"It's okay," Bobby said quickly. "I was just trying to figure something out," Bobby explained. "You can come in. What did you want to ask me?"

"Do you own all those cars out there? My dad only has one, but I'm going to own it someday. Maybe then Dad can have one of your cars."

Bobby had already admired John's car. It was a beauty. "Your dad has a nice car and yes, all those cars are mine."

"How do you decide which one to drive?" Dean asked curiously.

"I don't really drive them. A lot of them don't work. I use the parts in them to fix other cars," Bobby explained.

"Are you a car doctor?" Dean asked.

"I guess you could say that," Bobby replied.

"My dad's a car doctor too. I'm going to be one as well. Dad started teaching me about them before..." Dean trailed off, his eyes suddenly filling with tears. Then as fast as they appeared, they disappeared and left Bobby wondering if he had been imagining things.

"Cars are pretty cool aren't they?" he asked instead.

"Yeah. I like it when they go fast," Dean admitted.

"Me too," Bobby agreed.

Dean was getting a little braver and he walked closer to Bobby. He wasn't so bad the child thought. He couldn't be if he liked cars. He looked at Bobby's books.

"What are those?" he asked as he pointed to the various ledgers.

"They're account books. I keep track of what I owe people and what they owe me in them, or at least I try," Bobby explained with a wry grin.

"Can I help?" Dean offered. "I like numbers. They're easier than stupid words. I'm teaching Sammy his numbers."

"I saw that. I wish you could help me. See these two columns. The totals are supposed to be the same," Bobby said as he pointed to the two figures.

"They're not," Dean pointed out helpfully.

"That's what I'm trying figure out. Why they're not," the older hunter said.

"Can I try?" Dean asked tentatively.

"Why not, you can't do any worse than me," Bobby said humouring him.

Dean looked at the columns. He tried to add them up, but as good as he was at math, he couldn't do it in his head. There were too many numbers. He asked Bobby for a pencil and some paper and if he was supposed to add or subtract them. Bobby said it was both and showed him which to add and which to subtract and one by one, Dean went through the numbers. He found that in one of the columns Bobby had forgotten to carry the one and the numbers were a little closer when he was done, but they still didn't balance. He frowned as he rechecked his work.

"It's okay, Dean. I think it's a lost cause," Bobby said, still taken aback at the child's efforts.

Dean was determined to figure this out though. Math was the only thing in school he was good at.

About 15 minutes later, he spoke. "If we got rid of this number here, it would match," Dean said pointing to one of the figures. "It's there twice. Is it supposed it be there twice?"

Bobby frowned as he looked at the figures. He saw that he had received a payment for one of his clients for $212 dollars. He looked further down the list and saw the exact same payment amount and that was when he realized his mistake. He had entered the payment twice, once when he received the check and again when he had cashed it. He looked at the little boy with a new found respect. How the hell had he figured that out in less than an hour? It had taken Bobby two days and he still hadn't found it.

"You know what, you're absolutely right. It doesn't go there, I entered it twice." He showed Dean the entries so the boy would know that Bobby wasn't humouring him.

"Thanks, little man," Bobby said sincerely.

"Dean," a voice said sharply and they both looked up, startled. "I told you not to bother Bobby, now apologize and go to your room," John ordered his son.

"I'm sorry, Bobby," Dean said as his shoulders slumped and he started to leave the room.

"Dean, wait," Bobby called after him. "John, it's okay, Dean's not bothering me and I'm honestly not just saying that. He just helped me out," Bobby explained.

"It's time for bed anyway. Go get Sammy ready and I'll be in to say goodnight," John said gruffly.

"'Kay. 'Night, Bobby," Dean said as he exited the room with a little wave to the older man.

"I'll talk to him, Bobby. He won't bother you again, I'll make sure he understands the consequences." John said when Dean left the room.

"Look, Johnny," Bobby said forcibly. "Dean wasn't bugging me. There's no reason to punish him. He asked a couple of questions about the cars in yard and then he helped me. You punish him for that and I swear to God, I'm going make you sleep on the porch."

John was taken aback. He wasn't used to people taking that tone with him. "Okay, I'll take your word for it. What could he have possibly helped with though?" John questioned.

"I think he might be some kind of math genius." Bobby showed John the original columns of numbers. "Dean figured out why they didn't balance. Can you?" Bobby challenged.

"Dean did that?" John said and he couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. He had seen Dean's grades in school.

"Yup, I may just have to consider making him my full time accountant," Bobby said only half joking.

"He's seven," John said in disbelief that Dean could have figured it out.

"Don't underestimate him, John," Bobby warned. "I think it would be a huge mistake."

"I won't, Bobby." John said.

The next day, Bobby invited Dean into his salvage yard and started to teach him more about cars. He was surprised when Dean made a lot of medical references and he questioned John about it later. John explained the circumstances surrounding Dean's birth. It was a couple of weeks after that when Dean skinned his knee and the rest was history. Bobby even found himself growing used to Sam's incessant chatter.

The Winchesters stayed with him for about a year and Bobby helped John get Dean through heart surgery and every day, he grew to love all the Winchesters a little more. John became like a brother to him, even though he infuriated Bobby a lot of the time, and the boys became like his own sons. He really missed them when they left.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Whoa," said Frank, genuinely impressed. "You must have been shocked when he figured out your problem."

"Shocked didn't even begin to describe it," Bobby admitted.

"MIT and Stanford. A father couldn't do better," John said with regret. His boys would have gone far.

"I don't know, Johnny. I still think Dean would have followed you into the garage. He was good at math, but automobiles are his first love," Bobby said.

"Maybe he..." John started, but he was cut off when he heard Sam's panicked cry of "DEAN!!!"

A/N. Okay I'm not writing any more flashbacks. John's story at the start was only supposed to be a couple of paragraphs, but as usual, it got away from me, so I changed the course of the whole chapter. Plus, there's some more angst coming up, so I figured I would write a lighter chapter.

Please read and review. I crave reviews and they make me right faster.