Author's Note: Thanks for all the kind words! I'm glad that I'm not the only one who likes a Sam/Bobby bonding story!

"You're always running from something, it seems."

Passing Strange, "Come Down Now"

They spent the rest of the day watching melodramatic Spanish soap operas. It took a few episodes for Sam to get the gist of what was going on; but by the time that dusk rolled around, Sam was almost as invested in it as Bobby was.

"But, Jose can't die!" Sam exclaimed as the screen went black and Bobby rose from the couch. "What would Maria do?"

"Marry his twin brother." Bobby stated and chuckled dryly at Sam's horror struck expression.

"No!" Sam shouted. "But he's evil!"

"Well, we'll have to just watch the next episode tomorrow," Sam nodded his agreement and then awkwardly eyed his surroundings. Bobby watched curiously as Sam went to his duffel and picked it up. He glanced at the stairs leading up to the bedrooms and seemed to be mentally debating whether he was allowed to go to his room or not. "Upstairs is all ready for you."

"Oh, thanks." Sam shot him a grin and sprinted upstairs. Bobby smirked slightly as he headed to the kitchen. The phone rang and after checking to see which line it was, the older picked it up with a gruff:

"Singer."

"How's Sam doing?"

"Dean," Bobby greeted. "He's fine."

"Dad said there was a werewolf—" A twinge of guilt hit Bobby as he heard the sheer worry that spilled over into Dean's voice. It had been a lie to protect Sam, but the crotchety hunter hadn't thought about the consequences when he had been telling it.

"Couldn't find it," Bobby explained quickly and he could hear Dean's audible sigh of relief on the other end of the line. He smirked. "Took Sam with me though. Figured I could give him—"

"A few days off?" Dean guessed.

"It's been that bad, huh?" Bobby questioned and there was a rustling on the other end, as if Dean was nervously shifting the phone from one side to the other. "He and your daddy fighting?"

"Everyday."

"About what?"

"Everything—school, hunting, research," Dean listed. "Dad thinks Sam isn't prepared for the life and Sam just wants to read his books." The older Winchester laughed dryly. "Sam is such a geek that way, you know?"

"I know." And he did, truly. His own childhood hadn't been exactly perfect and books had often been his own escape. Not the kind of lofty fiction that Sam read, but books about cars or anything mechanical. Bobby used to devour those when he was younger—it was an escape from the life that seemed to consume him.

"Is that Dean?" Sam asked suddenly, nearly startling the older man who then cursed his age. He was getting soft, it appeared. "Can I talk to him?" Bobby wordlessly handed over the phone. "Hi, Dean!" Sam animatedly began talking into the receiver, a grin lighting up his face.

"Those boys." Bobby mumbled to himself as he made himself scarce. Last thing he wanted to do was intrude on a private moment between those two. He set about scrounging up something for dinner, almost certain that he would have to go to the store with the way that Sam had been eating. That kid was a bottomless pit . . .

"No, Dean! Please don't—!" Sam interjected sharply and it made Bobby pause. Frowning, he peeked into the other room and saw the sheer panic that had enveloped Sam's expression.

"Sam?" Bobby questioned, the kid seemed not to notice him, or if he did, he didn't care.

"I can't—" Sam began when a loud voice bellowed into his ear. Bobby couldn't make out the words, but he knew the voice—John Winchester—and it seemed like he was on a rampage. "Dad, I—" Without asking for permission, Bobby gently tugged the phone from Sam's hand and placed the receiver to his ear.

"Sam Winchester, you will do this work while you're there! You can't expect to be at Bobby's without pulling your weight! Jesus, Sam—!"

"Easy there, John." Bobby said calmly as Sam watched him, eyes wide with worry and wonder.

"Bobby? I was talkin' to—" John started.

"Yeah, well, sorry about that, but I needed Sam to go check over some Latin for me," He winked at the youngest Winchester. The smile that graced Sam's lips was the brightest Bobby had ever seen yet. "Hope you don't mind."

"No, of course not!" John exclaimed, seemingly relieved. "He should be helping you out."

"Well, Sam is a big help, that's for sure," Bobby replied, lips tugging up in a small grin. "How's the hunt?"

"Still tracking the damn thing," John mumbled. "We interviewed the families of the victims today and they were all killed in different places at different places."

"Damn." Bobby cursed.

"Yeah," John agreed. "We might be a little while longer than I planned. If Sam becomes too much of a bother, you can always send him back—"

"He ain't a bother," Bobby insisted. "Sam's been lots of help." Beside him, the youngest Winchester gently tugged on his arm and Bobby caught the unguarded love in his eyes. Sam's eyes had always been so expressive and the boy could use them to make almost anyone fall in love with him. Bobby had seen it too! Sam would just glance at a stranger in the store and all of a sudden, he was the center of attention and being fawned over. To see that Sam appreciated him so much, that Sam loved him as if he were his flesh-and-blood uncle made the old hunter fell 10 feet tall. He hadn't felt such emotion since before his wife had died.

"I'll talk to him, Uncle Bobby." Sam told him quietly and without even protesting, Bobby simply handed him the phone.

"Hi, Dad." He whispered into the phone. John's voice was calmer now, leaving Bobby to surmise that he had snapped at his youngest due to the stress of this hunt. It wasn't a good enough reason to be so angry with Sam, but it was an excuse and from the looks of Sam's relaxed expression, he knew that was the best he was going to get from his father.

Bobby left the room once more and headed back into the kitchen. Dean had told him that things were stressful with John, but seeing their interaction—even just over the phone—the older hunter could tell that things were worse than what Sam or Dean was telling him. Things had gotten so bad that Sam had run away from it all and it was only by sheer luck that he had ended up on Bobby's porch. If he hadn't . . .

"Idjit." He cursed softly as he pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no point wondering about what-ifs. Sam was with him now and that was all that mattered. Maybe he couldn't fix whatever was going on between Sam and John, but he sure as hell could give Sam the best damn vacation that any kid could ask for.

"Dean, I'm trying," Sam whispered, voice breaking and Bobby's heart skipped a beat. "I just . . . It's never good enough." Silently, Bobby picked up the other receiver, knowing he was violating Sam's trust, but needed to hear whatever they were talking about.

"I know, kiddo, I know," Dean soothed and Bobby thanked whatever higher power existed that Dean cared so much about his baby brother. "But, you know stressed he's been with this hunt. Things will get better when we're done."

"But what if they don't?" Sam insisted and Bobby heard Dean sigh softly.

"Sammy, have I ever been wrong before?" Some of that famous cocky Dean Winchester attitude slipped into his tone, making Bobby smirk slightly.

"No—"

"Then, I'm always right," Dean concluded. John's voice made some comment and the phone shifted slightly. "I've gotta go now, Sam."

"I know." The youngest Winchester replied.

"Look, if you need anything, you call, okay? I don't care what Dad says, I will always—"

"I know, Dean." Sam said softly.

"Okay, well, I'll talk to you soon."

"Yeah, soon." He echoed.

"It'll be okay, you'll see, Sammy." Dean insisted.

"Bye, Dean."

And with that, Sam hung up.

Author's Note: And that concludes this chapter! If you have a second, please review. I'd love to hear what you thought! Next chapter will have plenty of action!