When Detective Henriksen had left, Bobby felt Dean's eyes on him.
"What?" He asked and put the card in the pocket of his shirt. Dean's gaze followed the movement.
"You didn't tell him that Sam has been there." Dean said and teared his eyes off the card now hidden in the pocket over Bobby's heart. It felt like a stone resting there and Bobby just wanted to rip it apart. But he didn't. He wasn't sure if he'd need it later. Probably not but he wanted to keep that option open for now.
"He doesn't need to know." Bobby shrugged. "Sam had nothing to do with what happened the other day and with John …" He sighed. "I'm glad he was there, that you didn't have to face that bastard alone."
At that Dean swallowed thickly and hastily turned away. Bobby gave him a wordless pat on the shoulder.
They didn't go back to work, neither of them was in the mood anymore, so they went upstairs to get out of their dirty clothes and to wash away the grime and dust.
After his shower Bobby stood alone in his room, the card in hand again. It was just the official card the police department handed out. It had the detective's name on it and what Bobby assumed was his desk phone number.
Sam had nothing to do with the murder but he was involved in human trafficking. Somehow. At least enough to know where to buy a person and to be deemed trustworthy enough to actually get one. And there was Detective Lafitte who also knew about this but had turned a blind eye on the whole thing. If just for money or if he was farther involved Bobby didn't know.
Bobby could call Detective Henriksen. He didn't have any proof and he was pretty sure that Dean and Sam would deny everything but he had the feeling that Henriksen wouldn't need proof to at least have a look at the case. If Bobby was right, the detective was a bloodhound. He already wanted to sink his teeth in Sam, all he needed was a reason.
Bobby left the card on the nightstand and went downstairs.
He found Dean busy in the kitchen, the air already heavy with delicious smells.
"Chop the onions, would you?" Dean shoved a cutting board with already peeled onions at him along with a knife and a bottle of beer.
"Sure." Bobby opened the beer first and took a gulp. Dean raised his own bottle at him before he went back to grinding something in the mortar.
"What are you making?" He picked up the knife to start with the onions. He couldn't see what was already in the pot and the things lying around were just basics used for almost every dish.
"Chili." Dean answered, stirring what had to be the meat in the pot. "And I need those onions next so start chopping."
"Hold your horses, boy." Just to tease him Bobby took another sip of beer before he went back to chopping.
They worked side by side, filling the silence with stupid little stories. Dean talked about his customers and their sometimes silly requests and in return Bobby told him about what was going on in Sioux Falls. Dean had never been that social but somehow he still knew a lot of people there and liked to hear about them. Bobby wasn't big on gossip himself but he tried to keep Dean up to date and if it was only to assure Dean that he still had a home he could come back to. Not that he needed that anymore. He had made himself a new home with Sam.
Naturally the conversation looped back to the upcoming open door day.
"Are you going to stay for that?" Dean asked with hope in his voice. By now the chili was mostly done and just had to simmer for a while. They moved over to sit on the couch with a fresh beer in hand.
"I can't leave the salvage yard for too long." Bobby said after a long moment. "I'd like to stay but …" He made a helpless gesture. Dean just nodded to that.
"But I want pictures." Bobby pointed with his bottle at Dean. "And if you really decide to turn that hall into a showroom, call me. I'll help you with the remodeling."
"You would?" It hurt Bobby's heart to hear that shy voice. As if Dean couldn't believe that Bobby would come and help him with that. Bobby was still waiting for the day that Dean realized that he had people who cared for him. And that he deserved their love.
Maybe with Sam, Bobby thought and wasn't sure if he liked that thought or not. He did like it more than a few days ago so that was something, right?
"Of course, son." Bobby assured him. "Just give me a call."
By the time Sam came home from work, the chili was ready and they sat down to eat. Sam told them about his day and the conversation was funny and lighthearted until Sam asked what Dean and Bobby had been doing all day.
"Got some stuff done in the basement." Dean answered vaguely. For a second Bobby wasn't sure if he would mention the detective at all. And if not if he expected Bobby to fill in that little detail but then Dean said: "And that cop swung by."
"Cop?" Sam paused with his spoon half-way up to his mouth. "What cop?"
"Detective Henriksen." Bobby said. "I think you know him."
Now Sam groaned. "What was he doing here?"
"Wanted to check your alibi." Dean said and Bobby added: "And he asked about John."
"What has John to do with this?"
"You rubbed him the wrong way and now he wants to stick something on you." Dean pushed his empty bowl away with an angry huff. "Guy thinks you're some kind of serial killer."
"What did you tell him?" The question was directed at both of them but Bobby felt the focus on him. They all knew that Dean wouldn't just rat Sam out, however, Sam had reason to think that Bobby might.
"The truth." Dean leaned back in his chair. "That Benny called you to have a look at the scene. And Bobby told him to read the report for the other thing. It clearly says that you haven't been there when John …" He couldn't finish the sentence and tried to hide it behind a nonchalant shrug and a sip of beer. Sam shifted a little and Bobby was sure that his hand was now on Dean's thigh.
"You did?" Sam turned to Bobby. "Why?"
"Because you didn't do something wrong there." Bobby answered. "You helped Dean, I'm not going to throw you under the bus for that."
They fell into an uncomfortable silence and Bobby just waited for Dean to mention the card the detective had left. Which he didn't.
After dinner they settled down in front of the TV to kill the evening with some mindless shows. Sam and Dean took the couch, sitting close together.
Bobby just rolled his eyes and took a chair.
They ended up on a CSI rerun and it didn't take long for them to start taking apart the stupidity of that show. Sam with his knowledge of the law was the first to point out that even if they caught the guy, which they would the bad guys never got away in this kind of show, the case would never hold on court and the guy would just walk away.
Dean and Bobby were right behind him, pointing out how common sense and thinking over his actions for two seconds would have prevented the guy from getting caught in the first place.
In the end they agreed that the guy deserved getting caught and that the whole team should be fired for incompetence.
The next two episodes weren't much better but it was fun. At one point Bobby just sat back with his beer in hand, watching the boys bickering over a silly little detail.
Dean was so at ease. He laughed openly and nudged his shoulder into Sam's to emphasize his words and Sam just shoved back in a playful manor. There was no hesitation in Dean's behavior, no fear. Bobby couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Dean like this. And he knew who deserved credit for that.
With a smile Bobby finished his beer and when the credits rolled, he excused himself and went upstairs.
Then he lay in his bed but sleep didn't come.
Even through the closed door Bobby still heard the TV and the soft murmur of Sam and Dean's voices. At some point the TV went silent and they just talked but it was too low for Bobby to understand the words.
Just before he drifted off to sleep he thought that the tone had changed to something more serious but he was too tired to really care about that.
Bobby woke up early. The loft was quiet and he didn't want to leave the warm bed just yet. When he checked the time his eyes fell on the card next to the alarm clock.
He picked it up and read it again. Just one phone call, that was all it would take to bring down the detective on Sam. Bobby wasn't sure if it would actually lead to something but for sure it would be enough to destroy Sam's life. Rumors alone would break his neck.
A week ago he wouldn't have hesitated. Now he couldn't stop thinking about the way Sam and Dean looked at each other.
When he heard noises coming from the other bedroom, indicating that at least Sam was up to get ready for work, Bobby got out of bed as well.
By the time Bobby came downstairs Sam was already nursing his coffee without seeming to be actually awake. But as soon as he noticed Bobby, he poured him a generous mug as well.
"You're up early." He commented.
"Couldn't sleep." Bobby accepted the mug and took a seat. "The detective left this." He put the card on the table so that Sam could read it. Not that he really needed to, Bobby was pretty sure that the serious talk he'd heard right before sleep last night had been about this little piece of paper.
"Told me to call if I could think of anything else." Bobby explained nevertheless.
Sam studied the card for a long moment, fingers tight around his mug.
"Are you going to call him?" He asked, eyes still fixed on the card.
"What you did to Dean was wrong." Bobby said. "I think you know that."
Sam gave him a sharp nod but didn't say a word in his defense.
"However, I've seen you two together." He picked up the card again, holding it between the fingers of both hands. "You made a mistake, an unforgivable mistake and you know it. What you did to Dean …" Bobby shook his head, he still didn't have words for it.
"I know."
"But you make Dean happy. He loves you." Bobby continued.
"And I love him." It was the truth. It was obvious as soon as Bobby allowed himself to see.
"You're not like John. You're not a monster." With one harsh jerk Bobby ripped the card in half. "But if you ever harm Dean like that ever again, I'm going to kill you myself."
Now Sam looked up to meet his eyes. Relief was clearly written all over his face and his eyes were suspiciously shiny but there was a steel undertone in that gaze as well. For a second Bobby felt like the tables were turned, like he was the one at Sam's mercy but then Sam smiled and the moment was over before he could make sense out of it.
"Thank you, sir."