WEEK AT BOBBY'S
Chapter 4.
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Bobby Singer had had a lot of bad nights in his life – nights he didn't want to remember but ones he had never been able to forget; There was, for instance, the night as a kid where he'd watched his dad hit his mom one time too many, the night his Karen died, and that night in Omaha on a hunt with Rufus where everything went terribly wrong. This particular night wasn't too bad compared to those horrible nights.. but it was bad enough.
Sam's fever had suddenly spiked in the middle of the night and the three-year-old had been crying non-stop ever since then. Sam was hurting – kept sobbing that his ears hurt – and even Dean hadn't managed to make his brother fall asleep again. Bobby hadn't wanted Dean to stay awake throughout the night as well, so he'd picked up Sam from the bed, placed the kid over his shoulder - while shushing him and bouncing him a bit – and had intended to leave the room when Dean spoke up.
"It won't work." Dean had told the older hunter, clearly not satisfied with being excluded from taking care of Sam.
"It will or it won't." Bobby had told the stubborn eight-year-old while Sam had continued to cry. "But you don't need to worry about it, alright? I'll take care of Sam, and you need to go back to sleep."
"I can help!" Dean protested – or pleaded rather. "Sammy needs me."
"Sam needs something for his fever and ears, and you need your sleep." Bobby tried to reason with the kid. "Look, he'll probably fall asleep again soon and then you'll both be fit in the morning."
Dean started pouting but Bobby stood his ground. The older hunter knew that Dean took care of Sam all the time but, after all, the kid was only eight years old. He didn't have to always carry the world on his shoulders. That was what adults were for so Bobby was more than happy to take that burden away from Dean - even if it was just for one night.
After Bobby had tucked the sulking Winchester brother back in, he walked downstairs with the crying three-year-old and managed to get a dosage of liquid Tylenol into him before the older hunter started walking back and forth in his living room with Sam. Bobby shushed the kid and muttered soft assurances over and over but Sam continued to cry.
"Deeeeeean." Sam sobbed, soaking the fabric of Bobby's plaid shirt with his tears while his little fingers pulled at his hurting ears. It was heartbreaking.
"Dean's sleeping, Sam. You'll have to settle for me." Bobby told the kid and mentally kicked himself for that comment as Sam started sobbing louder with the knowledge that he was not going to be soothed by his big brother. "Shh. There, there, Sam. Come on, kid, settle down."
Sam didn't settle down however. The youngest Winchester brother continued to cry and had cried ceaselessly for about forty minutes when Bobby finally couldn't take it any longer. The older hunter found his address book, picked up his phone and wondered for a second if he should give John Winchester a call to tell him how his youngest was doing. Bobby ended up deciding against it though – Johnny had enough to worry about as it was - before he made a call to an old acquaintance of his.
"Who's this?" The voice on the other end of the line barked when the phone was picked up.
"Doc Myers?" Bobby asked.
"Who's asking?" The man wanted to know and Bobby rolled his eyes while shifting Sam a bit on his arm.
"Bobby Singer." Bobby answered.
"What the hell do you want?" The doctor asked. "You better be dying or at least missing an arm! Do you realize what time it is?"
Bobby glanced at his watch while once again trying to shush the crying three-year-old. 03:17.
"Wait, is that a crying kid I can hear?" Dr. Myers asked. "Since when did you have kids?"
"Not mine." Bobby said. "Look, I need your advice about a three-year-old with ear pains. And before you say something; you do owe me one for that one time in Wyoming!"
"Not fair." Dr. Myers said with a sigh. "Fever?"
"Yeah. It started out as a cold but now he's complaining about his ears." Bobby said, straining to hear what the doctor had to say above Sam's crying. "Look, I haven't dealt with a sick kid before and he won't stop crying."
"Well, it sounds like the kid might be dealing with an inflammation of the middle ear." The doctor revealed.
"What the hell is that?" Bobby demanded to know, his concern spiking. "Is it something serious? Does he need a hospital?"
"First of all; it's very common in his age." Dr. Myers assured the older hunter. "And you don't need to take the kid to a doctor unless his ears are still hurting after three to four days. Have you given him any pain medications?"
"A round of liquid Tylenol half an hour ago." Bobby answered, rubbing a hand up and down Sam's back as the kid once more sobbed out his brother's name.
"Good, it'll kick in soon then." Dr. Myers praised. "You just follow the instructions on the bottle to reduce the fever and pain, and then the kid should be fine. Remember to elevate his head; the ear pains get worse when he's lying down. Oh, and Singer?"
"Yeah?" Bobby asked.
"If you call me at this hour again, I'll kill you." The doctor threatened and hung up with a click.
"Yeah, good night to you too. Idjit." Bobby huffed and put the phone back in place before he started walking back and forth with Sam again as the minutes ticked by.
"Deeeeeaaan." Sam hiccupped, his sobs slowly ceasing since he was starting to wear out as exhaustion took over his body.
Sixty-seven minutes after Sam had first started crying, the three-year-old finally lost the battle against sleep. Bobby let out a deep sigh of relief and smiled wryly as he wiped the tears off Sam's damp face and dried the boy's running nose. Sam was still hiccupping every now and then but as long as he stayed asleep, it was all good.
Bobby carried Sam back upstairs but as he reached the top of the stairs, the older hunter was quite surprised to find Dean sitting next to the staircase. The oldest Winchester brother had his knees drawn up to his chest - his arms wrapped around them – and his face was hidden behind them.
"Balls." Bobby mumbled, careful not wake up Sam. "Dean?"
Dean slowly lifted his head and Bobby's heart clenched a bit as he saw the tear tracks on the eight-year-old's cheeks.
"Just a minute." Bobby told the boy before he carried Sam the rest of the way to the guestroom, put the boy down on the bed and made sure Sam's head was elevated before he tucked the kid in and went back to Dean. "What's the matter, Dean? You didn't sleep at all?"
Dean shook his head and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, while Bobby crouched down in front of him.
"I couldn't sleep when Sammy was hurting." Dean said. "And h-he kept crying for me, Uncle Bobby."
Bobby sighed and washed a hand down his face. How could he have believed that Dean would've just gone back to sleep without problems?
"I know Dean and I'm sorry." Bobby said and patted the boy's shoulder. "I should have known you wouldn't get any rest. And I know you feel responsible for Sam, but you don't have to worry so much about him when I'm here, okay?"
"I guess." Dean sniffled - although Bobby knew that it was useless for him to try to convince Dean to stop worrying so much about his younger brother.
"But you should have just come downstairs though – instead of sitting up here on the cold floor. Come on." Bobby said and straightened back up.
Bobby helped Dean up from the floor and gently guided the kid back to the guestroom where Sam was, thankfully, still completely out cold.
"Will Sammy be okay?" Dean asked Bobby.
"Of course he will." Bobby promised and then shooed the oldest Winchester brother back to bed.
Dean snuggled as close to his younger brother as possible and put a hand on the sleeping boy's chest as if he wanted to assure himself that Sam was breathing and kept doing it. Bobby felt - not for the first time since he'd met the Winchester brothers - an ache in his heart by the sight of it. These boys meant the world to each other, and Bobby had a feeling that it wouldn't change when they grew up.
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The following day, Bobby was up before the boys for once which gave him plenty of time to find bowls and spoons, milk and the box of Lucky Charms. The salvage-yard owner hoped that Sam was feeling better today and that they wouldn't be dealing with a repetition of the previous night – Dean also deserved a little break from all the worrying. Maybe this should be the day where he taught the oldest kid a thing or two about cars? Bobby knew that Johnny was an excellent mechanic himself but Bobby doubted he'd spent much time teaching Dean anything about cars. Ghosts, monsters, how to handle a shotgun – sure – but cars? Bobby shook his head in disbelieve. Those boys were still so innocent and Bobby hated to know that it would all change sooner or later. He hoped for the latter. Bobby's eyes once again caught sight of the drawings on his fridge and he let out a sigh. He definitely hoped for the latter.
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TBC.. perhaps. Thanks for reading! Reviews are love! ;)
-Elisa.