A.N.: Here we are in chapter 10! You still enjoying it? Cause I am! This chapter has a bit of Sam and Dean (cause I was missing them as much as you were;-]) And, as much as it broke my heart, the Impala is the mustang in this universe. It just seems wrong to have our boys in anything other than the Impala * sigh * As always a huge, Sam sized THANK YOU to Dorothy for giving me input and cleaning up my chapters. Here's looking at you kid! :P Hope you enjoy and thanks as always for reading! :D

Disclaimer: It's not mine...not matter how much I beg, and cry, and scream. :P

Bobby curls around his wife, hoping that by just willing it, the sun will stay down a few minutes longer. His wish goes unanswered as an unruly streak of light spears into the bedroom. Ellen sighs, contented in his arms, and shifts around to greet him with a soft kiss.

"Morning husband."

"Morning El."

She is already getting up and out of the bed, snagging her robe from the hook by the door.

"What do you want for breakfast?" she calls out as the door closes.

Bobby sits up with a smile. "Whatever you can churn out that's edible."

She opens the door with a mock gasp. "Well then Martha Stewart, why don't you cook?"

Bobby swings his legs over the side of the bed as he teases her. "Me in the kitchen? That's a woman's job."

Ellen snorts and chucks her robe at his head. "Well then you better get on down there." she retorts, wearing nothing but a smirk on her face.

Bobby blinks at her for just a moment before the door closes again.

The sound of the shower coming on is heard about half a second before she says. "You gonna stare slack-jawed at the door or you gonna come in here and do something about it?" She giggles at the end and Bobby is in the bathroom in the blink of an eye.

Oh yeah, it's going to be a good day.

She shoves the plate of eggs in front of him as she seats herself on the opposite side of the table.

Bobby bites heartily into one of the eggs as Ellen smiles coyly over her glass of orange juice.

It's a trade off, the way they live now. With Jo off to college (forced by her mother's hand) the house is quiet and peaceful and occasionally lonely. But with no one in the house but his wife and him...damn, it was almost like being newlyweds again.

"Jo's coming home in a month or so. School break."

Bobby chews his toast and smiles as he watches his wife's eyes light up.

"Yeah. That's good. It will be nice to have her back."

Ellen nods. "Yeah, it will. It's been quiet without her here."

Bobby looks up at Ellen, trying to decipher if she is happy or sad about their current living arrangements.

She swipes the piece of toast from his hand, nibbling on the corner of it. "Not a bad quiet though." She winks.

He is going to get out of his chair and reclaim the stolen piece of food, and maybe his wife's lips while he's at it, when his cell phone chirps in his pocket.

"Dammit," he grumbles as he digs it out of the denim hole.

He can see Winchester blinking at him from the screen and he wonders idly what the hell kinda mess John has gotten himself into now as he flips the phone open.

"Yeah?" he asks, expecting to hear the eldest Winchester reluctantly explain that he has screwed up and gotten himself into a heap of trouble...again.

What he does hear is a long, drawn out sigh followed by "Bobby?"

It's not the Winchester he was expecting. "Sam?"

"Yeah," he pauses and Bobby hears a rattle of noise. "I uh...I need your help."

Ellen moves to his side, curiosity on her face.

"Sure son, what do you need?"

Ellen raises an eyebrow as Bobby mouths 'Sam' to her.

"It's Dad."

Bobby figured as much. "What did he do now? Is Dean okay? Where are you at?"

Another sigh. "Dean's...well he's..."

"Spit it out son." Bobby replies as his heart speeds up in his chest. Something is wrong, he just knows it.

"Dad's dead." his voice breaks on the other end.

Bobby tightens his grip on the cell. "Sam, where are you?"

"Uh...Dell Rapids, we are in a motel. Motel 8, Dell Rapids."

Bobby slides his jacket on with one arm. "Okay, listen to me Sam. I'm going to be there in twenty minutes...is your brother?" he breaks off not able to link Dean with death.

"He's okay. We're okay, just...hurry. Please."

"On my way." Bobby snaps the phone shut as he pulls his keys out of his jacket.

"Bobby, what is it?" Ellen asks as she follows him to the door.

He turns around and pulls Ellen into his arms. "It's John El. He's dead."

"He's what? How?" She gasps into his shirt.

"I don't know. I got to go get the boys." He pulls away from her.

She has tears in her eyes. "Do you want me to come with you?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know what shape they are in. I'm bringing em back though, I'll see you soon."

Sam is sitting outside the motel, head hung between his knees when Bobby pulls up. The younger man lifts his face with a forced smile that looks more like a grimace.

"Sam."

"Hey Bobby." He pulls to his feet to clasp his hand in the older man's.

"Jesus Sam, you look like hell. What happened? I talked to you two days ago and Dean was on the mend and your dad was fine."

Sam runs a hand through his shaggy hair. "Yeah, they were um...when you and Ellen were on your way back from that vamp hunt in Minnesota, Dean woke up. And Dad was fine, but..."

"But what? What happened?"

Sam blinked back tears. "I was getting him coffee, he was talking to Dean and then he was just...gone." His Adam's apple bobs up and down in his throat.

"Shit. Sam, I'm sorry. Do you know what got him?"

Sam shakes his head vigorously. "No. No, he just died. Heart attack they are saying, but we know better huh?" he chuckles darkly.

Bobby pulls his cap off of his head and runs a hand along his face. "So what can I do to help Sam?" he grips onto the youngest Winchesters elbow, not wanting to be intrusive, but the kid looks so wrecked.

"I'm okay, but the mustang. She's totaled. And Dean," he pauses as the door swings open behind him.

Dean stumbles out in the light, shielding his eyes with a hand that is currently occupied with a beer.

"Heyya Bobby. When did you get here?" He slurs, leaning one hand on his younger brother to try and keep his feet.

Sam turns and eases the beer bottle out of his hand as sad smile on his face as he does it. "Bobby came to look at the car remember?"

Dean turns with a sloppy grin towards the older man. "Right my baby! You got to check her out doc, fix her up so Sammy and I can get back to work."

Sam and Bobby exchange looks and now Bobby knows exactly why he was called. The kid was doing his best, but dealing with Winchesters was always handled better when in numbers.

Bobby grabbed Dean by his shirt and gave him a quick shake. "Listen up. We'll get the Stang looked at and then tow it back to my place, you and Sam are going to pack your shit and get in my car nice and quiet like."

"Don't need a babysitter." Dean grumbles as he shoves off of the man.

"I'm sorry, what part of 'nice and quiet like' didn't you understand?" Bobby mutters back at him.

Sam reaches out and steadies his brother with a quick nod to Bobby. "You got it Bobby. I'll have us packed in five." he states, shoving his brother back towards the motel room.

Bobby sighs.

The mustang is trashed and Bobby has to try hard not to wince at the image that the warped metal is calling up in his mind. Dammit John...what did you do?

Dean says nothing as he helps Bobby hook his baby up to the back of the Chevelle, only stopping to vomit by his car. He bucks off Sam's arm of concern and grumbles. "We going or what?"

Sam casts a sad look to Bobby as he crawls into the back seat.

It takes him an hour to get home and Ellen is waiting for them on the front porch, worry creasing lines into her forehead.

"Looks like you pissed off the little woman." Dean chuckles as Sam calls out. "Dean, shut up!"

"Dude, I didn't mean it in a bad way. Everyone is so damn sensitive."

Bobby turns around in his seat. "Dean, I know you are chock full of alcohol right now so I'm going to try to explain things to you in a way you can understand. You. Stay. Here." He glares at him and then turns towards Sam. "Keep your idjit brother from doing anything stupid...er."

Sam nods his head. "Yeah. Thanks Bobby."

He watches as Ellen's eyes track his movement before shifting to the car. Her eyebrows rise up into her hairline as she breathes. "My god."

"Ellen, the boys are okay, car's beat up plenty and they will have some scars, but they are okay."

She leans onto his shoulder. "Thank God. And John?"

Bobby jerks his head once. "He's gone. Couldn't get much out of them."

Ellen pats his back. "Plenty of room here."

"Tried to tell them as much on the way over, but Dean's drunk as a skunk and Sam was playing mother hen in the back seat."

Ellen scoffs. "Won't be the first jackass I have had to sober up."

Bobby rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah Mother Theresa, just help me get his wasted ass out of the car."

Ellen laughs slightly as she follows her husband's trek to his car.

It's two days later when Bobby has gotten sick of the silence and tension in the house. He can see the sweat slicked dark blonde hair sticking out from the mangled frame of the mustang.

He sets the tall, chilled glass down by the wheels. "Ellen made lemonade, and lunch will be ready in twenty."

There is a grunt and series of curse words. "No thanks. A bit busy."

Bobby leans down and takes a wrench from the toolbox by the hood.

"You need help?"

"Nope." A thunk as a hammer slams into something. Bobby snorts softly at how much it reminds him or himself in younger days.

"Look Dean," he pauses and leans up against the hood.

"I got it Bobby. I don't need your help." his tone is clipped and definitely conveys the message of 'leave me the hell alone.'

Bobby's been walking on eggshells with the kid for two long days, ignoring the powerful stench of alcohol that has continuously wafted off of him. But he is done playing nice and staying quiet, dammit.

Bobby gets down on his knees and ends up on his back side by side with Dean Winchester. "You want it done fast kid, or you want it done right?"

Dean glances at him sideways, pride and acceptance fighting for control of his face. Finally, after a tense stare down, he shifts over an inch or so giving Bobby the room he needs to work.

They work in silence for about ten minutes before Dean grumbles. "Thanks."

Bobby chuffes his shoulder with his own. "You could thank me by eating. Ellen is thinking her food ain't any good."

Dean laughs and it is the first not-forced sound he has heard from him in days. "Hey, I didn't marry her so you can't hold me to that."

The older man whacks his knuckles lightly with the wrench. "Be nice Dean...or I'll be the one cooking."

Dean grimaces. "Stick to cars Bobby." He reaches up to tighten a bolt. "For all our sakes."

Bobby bites back a laugh at the comment.

Ellen wishes she could spend eternity here, locked in the arms of the man she loves, completely carefree. In the early hours of the morning she doesn't' think about her strained relationship with her daughter, or the fact that she spends more days than not terrified that that whatever quip she told Bobby over the phone will be the last thing she ever utters to him. But in the morning, when the sun is just peeking over the horizon and she can snuggle into the safety of his arms where nothing bad can happen, she is remorse to ever have to leave that place.

She sighs as she feels Bobby's breathing stutter for half a second before he grouses into the side of her neck. He seems to be just as discontented as her to have to face the day.

She shifts in his arms to kiss his lips softly in greeting.

"Morning husband."

His eyes are sleepy and his face is creased from the sheets when he breathes back, "Morning El."

She gets up from the bed, pulling her robe from the hook on the door.

Bobby flings back a witty remark at her request for what she wants for breakfast and Ellen thinks with an internal chuckle that they will be bantering when they are too old to remember what they are bantering about.

She throws a witticism at him and then decides 'what the hell' and tosses her robe at him as well.

His eyes widen like saucers as she smirks at him as she closes the door again.

She waits half a second before she throws out one last comment and hears the steady rush of feet to the bathroom door. She has just enough time to laugh quietly before Bobby is shoving into the shower with an awed look. She gets a thrill that he still looks at her in disbelief and incredibility every time he sees her in her birthday suit.

Ellen is cooking eggs and thinking about sex. Jesus, she is staring at the eggs crackling in the pan and wondering when the next time she can jump her husband's bones is. And Bobby even makes eating toast look sexy. She feels like a damn teenage watching him nibble on the piece of toast. And yeah, she misses Jo. She misses the way her daughter lit up a room and fired her up and kept her on her toes.

But she would be lying if she said that she wasn't enjoying the alone time with Bobby as well. She swipes the piece of toast from him with an impish grin taking a bite.

He gets up from his seat with an equally mischievous smile and she is humming with anticipation when his phone rings.

Damn.

He fumbles with the phone in his hand before issuing a terse. "Yeah?"

She can tell he does not expect the voice that comes out of the phone.

She moves closer to him as he mouths 'Sam' to her.

She can't hear what the youngest Winchester is saying on the other end, but she watches as Bobby's face shifts to varying degrees of concern.

And then he is death gripping the phone, and she knows that something is wrong.

He starts to pull his jacket on and demands to know Sam's location before he slams the phone shut.

"Bobby, what is it?" she inquires as she follows him to the door.

Please, don't let anyone be dead. Please, don't let anyone be dead.

He pivots on his feet and crushes her to his chest. "It's John, El. He's dead."

Her heart stops in her chest. "He's what? How?"

"I don't know. I got to go get the boys." He pulls away from her.

She can feel the useless wetness pooling in her eyes. "Do you want me to come with you?"

He dips his head. "I don't know what shape they are in. I'm bringing em back though, I'll see you soon."

She focuses on the sight of Bobby driving away until she can't see him anymore and then she cries.

After she has managed to pull herself together she calls Jo and gets her voice mail.

She proceeds to leave a stupid, overly affection voice mail on her daughter's phone and doesn't care if she will get hell for it later.

She can't remember the last time she spoke to John Winchester, and that thought has more tears rushing to her eyes.

The home phone trills from the wall and she picks it up with a choked "Hello?"

"Ellen?"

She clears her throat and tries again. "What's up Bobby?"

"Are you," he begins.

"Fine." She cuts him off before she has to elaborate just how 'fine' she is not. "How are the boys?"

She can hear Bobby move the phone to his other ear as he scoffs. "Happy and healthy. We're playing road trip games as we speak."

"That bad huh?"

Her husband sighs. "Worse."

Ellen leans up against the door jam. "Okay, well bring them home Bobby."

"On my way now."

She has never been much for sitting and waiting, so after ten minutes of wiping the place down for no reason (because she really doubts either of the remaining Winchesters are going to give a crap about cleanliness) she drags herself out to the porch and watches for Bobby's car.

It pulls up into the junkyard twenty minutes after she began her vigil on the porch.

Her eyes follow her husband as he steps out the car taking in the mustang. Or what's left of her anyway.

"My god."

Bobby's arm goes around her shoulders. "Ellen, the boys are okay, car's beat up plenty and they will have some scars, but they are okay."

She leans all of her weight into him. "Thank God. And John?" It's a long shot, but maybe...just maybe.

Bobby dips his head hard. "He's gone. Couldn't get much out of them."

Her gaze moves to the car as she takes notice of the occupants in there. The shell shocked occupants.

"Plenty of room here."

"Tried to tell them as much on the way over, but Dean's drunk as a skunk and Sam was playing Mother Hen in the back seat."

She scoffs. "Won't be the first jackass I have had to sober up."

He rolls his eyes at her and for just a moment she forgets about the awful situation they have been thrust into.

"Yeah, yeah Mother Theresa just help me get his wasted ass out of the car."

Ellen snickers slightly as she follows him to the car. Saint Ellen, she likes the sound of that.

It's been two days of awkward silences. Two days too long.

Bobby all but drags Dean into the house for lunch and for the first time in days he actually eats his food. It's a start and not something she is looking in the mouth.

After the table has been cleared Bobby thumps the younger man on the shoulder. "Let's get back out there and get some work done."

Dean scoffs and tips an imaginary hat at Ellen. "Ellen. Delicious as always."

"If it's that good than maybe you should try for an encore at dinner."

Dean groans and Ellen is reminded for the umpteenth time that he grew up without a mother.

Sam rises from the table. "She has a point Dean."

"Fine. I'll eat."He pauses to shoot a pointed glare at Sam. "Mom."

Sam winces as the door slams behind Bobby and his brother.

Ellen can hear her husband grumble. "Don't be an asshole just cause you can." and then a thump in what she assumes is Dean getting smacked.

"Son of a bitch!" Yup,he definitely got smacked.

Sam drifts past her and into the kitchen, his hands full of dishes from their recent meal.

She follows him into the kitchen as he begins to run hot water into the sink.

"Sam, honey, you don't need to do that."

He turns back to her with a fake smile. "It's no big deal. Dean makes messes and I clean them up." He laughs as he pours a generous amount of soap into the fast filling sink. He laughs bitterly. "Wow, I didn't mean that as bitchy as it came out."

His hands move furiously over the dirty objects as Ellen moves closer to him.

"Seriously Sam, I can take care of the dishes."

Sam's head bolts up and she can see the desolation in his eyes. "I'm fine."

Her hand reaches out to take the sponge from his fist and she almost burns herself on the scalding water.

"Shit! You trying to cook yourself boy?"

He drops his gaze to the water and his quickly reddening hands. "Sorry. I didn't realize, I just wanted to help."

She pats his hand consolingly. "Nothing to get all worked up about. I never could handle much heat."

His eyes travel to her face before flitting to the window where Bobby and Dean are working on the car in the distance. And Dean is smiling, an expression, although short lived, that Sam had spent two days trying to coax out of his brother.

"I just want to help." his voice drops to a whisper and Ellen has the feeling he isn't talking about washing dishes anymore.

She takes his hand in hers. "I know Sam, I know."

"I should have done something, I should have done anything."

She's about to ask what he would have done when he wretches his hand from her and both of them slam into the water filled sink.

"Goddammit! I should have figured out something, anything, I should of," his hands are rising and falling into the water, splashing bubbles and moisture onto himself, Ellen and the floor.

"Whoa. Sam, listen to me."

"I didn't do anything!" he yells and with one finally violent punch one of the plates comes flying out of the sink and to the ground with a crash.

"Sam! You need to calm down!" Ellen tries to grabs his shoulders, but the man is busy spiraling down in his grief.

"Nothing Ellen, I didn't, couldn't do anything. And now Dad is...shit." he whimpers as he slips in the mess he's made and goes hurtling towards the floor.

Ellen catches him on the way down, tucking his head into the crook of her neck.

"He's gone." He chokes as Ellen whispers soothing nonsense to him. "Dad is really gone."

"It's okay Sam. It's going to be okay."

Sam Winchester gives himself a minute or two to completely and totally break down in her arms. And she tries to reassure him, hopes at least some of her words are doing any good but really she can't tell over the soft, sad noises the boy is making into her collarbone.

He shoves off of her so suddenly she jumps.

"Sorry I didn't mean." he starts and Ellen can see the shame burning on his cheeks.

She helps lift him to his feet. "It's okay Sam, we all make messes." she states as she grabs the broom from the closet.

He looks at her with his brows knitting together in confusion.

She passes the broom to him. "As long as we clean them up, nobody even has to know we made them."

Sam's face softens as he takes the cleaning implement. "That's good advice."

She smiles and snatches a rag from the drawer as she starts to clean up the puddle of water on the counter.

"I'm old. Wise comes with the package."

Sam laughs and the visage makes him look a lifetime younger, untouched by the horrors that life has dealt them.

He leans in to to begin sweeping the mess and favors her with a half hug. "Thanks Ellen."

Ellen blushes and claps her hands. "Well then, the floor isn't going to clean itself."

Sam manages to sound both sarcastic and endlessly innocent when he mumbles. "We could wait and see."

Ellen hides the smile on her lips as she moves back to wipe down the counter.