A.N.: Sooooo….here we are. At the end. This is the first story I can honestly say I'm sad to see it end. It has been a joy to write. It was originally going to be a oneshot and then a three part-er and it just kept growing and growing and growing until it was this! This wonderful tale about two characters that, in my opinion, don't get enough screen time. Thank you so much to everyone that has reviewed, favorite, read, alerted and just downright liked this story. A super duper special shout out to Dorothy who has beta-ed every chapter, let me bounce around ideas and supported me every step of the way. You're one in a million, my friend! That means you: smalld1171, aspiringauthor8818 (aka my s-sister :P), LastBishop,TheAPrincess, LeighAnnWallace,Ghostwriter, ccase13, and of course Sharlot. YOU are the ones who have kept this story alive, YOU are the ones who have encouraged me to keep going, I couldn't have done it without you guys…really. :D And of course thanks to Jim Beaver and Samantha Ferris, they were only given one episode as a married couple and yet they pulled it off so BEAUTIFULLY that by the end of it I was in tears. Okay that's all I have folks, onto the curtain call! God bless each and every one of you.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for this idea.

He wakes up and instantly feels that something is off. So off in fact that he swings his legs off the couch and to the ground in one swift motion. He wiggles all of his toes in his boots because the last time he felt something this off his legs had been cut out from under him. Okay, so he's got legs, and arms, and nothing beasty like is munching on his face, but still, something is off.

He can't quite place what it is as he runs his tongue along his chapped lips. Whiskey. Okay, that's a given, but hell...is that a hint of cinnamon?

"What the hell?" he breathes, as he scrubs a hand down his face and tries to wipe away the off feeling along with the grit and grime on his skin.

Girlish giggling is bouncing around in his subconscious as he shakes his head to clear it of the foreign sound. He hasn't heard giggling since Karen...

Weird dreams, that's got to be it.

Dean comes around the corner so fast that Bobby jolts.

The younger man's face is plastered with several different emotions. His mouth is upturned in a relieved smile, his eyes are hard and cold and his forehead is creased in worry. Bobby's had enough of an education on the eldest Winchester to be able to read what he looks like when he is trying to hide something.

Balls. What's wrong now?

He gets to his feet as Dean's face goes blank.

"Dean? What is it?" He glances around for Sam. "Is it Sam? Is it the wall? What happened?"

Dean places a placating hand on his forearm. "What? No Bobby, Sam is fine. We are both fine."

He drops his head to his chest for a moment and exhales a sigh of relief. For as much shit as he has given the both of them recently, he doesn't know what the hell he would do without them.

"Thank God. Well then, what is it?"

Dean turns his face away from his and Bobby's sure he is busily conducting a quick scan for his partner in crime.

"Dean, now I know you ain't trying to lie to me mostly cause you suck at it."

He chuckles. "Paranoid much Bobby? I was just coming to check on my favorite wino. You've been sleeping it off for a long ass time man."

"And you're brother? Why ain't he here like your normally larger shadow?"

Dean shrugs. "He's taking a little siesta upstairs. Apparently a year of no sleep and being yanked out of Hell has that effect on a person. Who knew?"

"Everything really okay?" He has to ask because Dean doesn't get that face for just anything no reason.

"Yeah, case has been taken care of and Sam is twinkle twinkle little starr-ing up in the bedroom. So yeah...I'm good. How bout you? Feeling any less like a drunk, grumpy hermit now that you have gotten a couple of hours of sleep?"

Bobby scowls at him. "I am not a drunk, grumpy hermit."

"I was thinking of changing your name to Oscar. And I picked up a lovely trashcan on the way back from the case. Seriously, I checked it out and it's awesome." Dean smirks at him.

Bobby thunks him on the shoulder as he passes the man.

"Really Bobby, you okay?"

Bobby pivots in the kitchen to stare at the man in his living room, and for just a minute has a flash of the need for the roles to be reversed. He should be the one in the living room by his desk and in the kitchen should be...

"Bobby?"

Dean voice jerks him out of his thoughts as he shifts back to the sink and fills a glass with water before taking a deep gulp.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Someone has to make sure you two idjits don't get yourselves killed." He moves his steps towards the stairs, the overwhelming need to check on the other Winchester guiding his movement. Maybe if he can confirm that they are both okay, if he can see it with his own eyes, this nagging feeling in his gut will go away.

"Aww Bobby, you're the best Mom we could have asked for."

He stops on the first step and chuckles. "Shut up and get me something to eat, I'm starving."

He catches Dean's mock salute out of the corner of his eye. "Yes ma'am."

Huh, maybe he was wrong for once. Seems to him like everything is about as normal as it can get.