A.N. We are on to chapter 2! Hopefully you like this (and tell me about it *hint hint*). This is for you Dorothy and all the Ellen/Bobby fans!
Disclaimer: Not mine *tear*
Bobby was wrecked. His body hurt, his head was pounding and he felt the need to swallow back bile with every step he took. He should just go home and suffer in silence,to let the emptiness along with a bottle of whiskey comfort him. But he just couldn't. This hunt had been too much, he needed...hell he didn't know what he needed just that he needed it.
The parking lot was mostly empty, save for a sleek black car. The only occupants are two boys in the back seat who were currently pinching each other. Bobby cast a sad smile in their direction, his heart clenching painfully in his chest at the sight of them.
"Ow Dean quit it!" the younger one yelped, tears welling up into his eyes. It was pretty damn amusing to watch the older ones face shift from evil glee to concern in seconds. Bobby always wondered what it would have been like to have sons...
When he walks into the Roadhouse he spots Ellen right off. She is leaning over the bar and speaking to a middle aged gentlemen who had his head bowed, his hand clasped around his glass.
"Hey there stranger," she called waving him over.
He raises a hand in a pathetic attempt at some sort of greeting and offers a tilt of his head to the other male.
"This is," Ellen began as the other man stood up to his full height, squaring his shoulders.
"John." the other man boomed, sticking out a large limbed hand and clapping Bobbys' in it.
Bobby might have been jealous if he wasn't so broken.
"Bobby." he grunted and John took his hand back with a nod to Ellen.
"Well the boys are outside, I'm sure killing each other by now," he chuckled softly. "I'll check into that thing we were talking about later this week. Thanks for the help Ellen." He waved to her and nodded at Bobby before going out through the front door.
Ellen's gaze landed on Bobby as he sat down at the bar.
"Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks." she started, sitting down on the stool inside the bar;eye level with him now.
"Yeah, I know, I've been," hunting with that damn fool Rufus, drinking, stupidly going solo into a hunt that was way over my head. "Busy."
"Yeah, seems like everyone has been busy lately," she gestured to her empty bar. "Seen about half the amount of hunters we usually do."
Bobby nodded. "Yeah, plenty of nasty shit going around, it's the people we're short on." he sighs, the sound pulling up from deep in his chest. "I could really use a,"
She turns away from him and to the cooler already reaching for a beer. "The usual?"
"No. Whiskey." he orders and Ellen shoots him a momentarily glance of concern before going to pour him a glass.
"Thanks." he answers gruffly, gulping the entire glass down.
Ellen is still staring at him, trying to puzzle out what is going on in his head. "You hungry?"
"Nah." he stares forlornly at the empty glass. "Seconds?"
She pours him a second glass, unsurprised when he looks up from it to say. "Leave the bottle."
"You know Jo's been asking about you. You don't see someone in your line of work for a couple of weeks you tend to get a bit worried."
"Sorry. Just been busy. How is Jo?" The thought of the little blonde girl he had gotten so attached to strangles the words in his throat.
"Fine, she's at school." Ellen reaches for the bottle at the same time as Bobby, halting his attempt to pour another glass. "What is it Bobby?"
"What? Nothing. I'm fine." His hands leave the bar and disappear into the pockets of his jacket.
"And I'm Miss Nebraska third year running," she says dryly. "What's wrong?"
He swallows hard, hands closing into fists inside his pockets. "Just tired."
"Well there is a spare bed in the back if you want,"
"No Ellen, I'm just..." and when he raises his head to look at her she can see the torment on his face.
"Bobby," she sits back on the stool. "What happened?"
His hands rises up onto the bar, gold chain hanging from his fingers. He sets it down, heart heavy, overwhelmed at the weight of something so small.
Ellen stares at the object, confounded for just a moment until she spots flecks of dried blood on it;the gold glint of the heart pendant barely visible through the saturation of dull red.
"I messed up El," he begins, fingers just grazing the chain. "I messed up bad."
His voice cracks as he stares at the trinket, head going down to the bar to stifle the sob crammed up in his throat.
A hand gently rests on the back of his head and a voice full of compassion says. "I know you Bobby Singer. You did the best you could."
John Winchester still will not look her in the eyes. It's been years since...and still he will look anywhere but at her eyes. She passes along the information she has heard from the whispers of hunters about the demon he has been tracking and he thanks her, head still bowed. Does he not know that she had forgiven him a long time ago? Had her lack of stabbing him bloody with an ice pick not shown that?
"How are the boys?" she asks after a stretch of silence between them.
"They are good. Going to drop them off at Jim's before I check this lead, but they are doing good. How's Jo?"
"A handful, but worth every gray hair." she laughs, sweeping the hair falling into her face back.
"Yeah. Dean turns ten next year. It's amazing how fast time goes by..." he breaks off and she knows he isn't just talking about how much the boys have grown.
She leans over the bar. "Jo's fixing to be seven and I," she cuts off at the creak of the door swinging open, looking up to see who is coming into her bar; happy beyond words that it is Bobby Singer, looking no worse for wear except for the deadness on his face.
She greets him and then John inserts himself in between her and him. Ever the protector. They introduce themselves and then John is leaving, never one for much company unless its company he has chosen.
Bobby doesn't sit so much as fall into the nearest chair, surprising her by ordering whiskey; a little bit stronger than his usual drink of choice. With every gulp she can see a bit of the wall he has built around him fade. It's been a while since she's seen him and she hates to admit it but she looks up every time the door opens, hoping to be greeted by that trucker cap.
He looks terrible, running a hand down his face and draining his glass once more. After his third one, she grips the bottle tight and asks him what is going on. When he drops the chain on the bar, and stares at it in desolation, like he must have stared at its previous owner, it's all she can do to not pull her friend into a hug over the side of the bar.
"I messed up El." he whispers, the sound soft. "I messed up bad."
His Adams apple starts working overtime before his head goes down, and she can't think of anything to say,;anything that might bring him some peace. She doesn't think Bobby would appreciate the lie anyway. She lays one hand on the back of his head, murmuring the truth to him.
He doesn't answer, not that she expects him to. But he does tilt his head very subtly into her palm.
When he finally does look up from his seat, he accepts her offer to sleep there for the night; to get a fresh start in the morning.
He clasps her hand for just a second, and mutters "Thank you." before he shoves back from both the bar and the half finished bottl
Jo comes bursting in the door an hour later, throwing her backpack off to the side and inquiring. "Where is he?"
"Who sweetie?"
"Bobby, duh." she rolls her eyes at her mother like the answer should be obvious. "His car is outside."
"Manners Joanna Beth." she chides and the young girl looks down at her feet mumbling. "Sorry Mom."
Ellen can stay mad at her about as long as it takes her to blink already moving over to scoop her daughter into a hug.
"I'm glad Bobby's here Mom, I like him."
Ellen thinks to the locket on the bar, the loss that Bobby had told her about with no words and squeezes her daughter a little tighter.
Her voice is quiet when she whispers. "Me too."
Next chapter: Blood, banter and bonding! Stay tuned!