Bobby sat quietly in an armchair watching Netflix; whatever the others left on was good enough at that time. He glanced at the couch every now and then to make sure Castiel was still there, the winged boy was curled up and snoozing, no trouble yet. Bobby sighed and looked back at the TV, feeling extremely out of place in such a ritzy room. The furniture was well-made and clearly taken care of; everything seemed to have some kind of value to it in one way or another. He couldn't ever explain what made it feel so fancy, it just was. The ceilings were too high, the décor was too nice – or existed at all, and there were hand-crafted trimmings along the walls, ceiling, and other places he didn't care to look at.

Seeing the boys sitting in that room made his head spin, not one of them looked like they belonged there, not even Sam. Sam he could picture in a modern-style house, something fancy, sure, but nothing as old as the place they were in now. Dean had asked for Bobby's help, advice, something to assist them in sorting all the craziness out. He knew that part of that was Castiel's existence, something about MacLeod and other science-y things. But he couldn't help but come up with other suggestions. His first would be that they move to a more suitable home, something that didn't feel like it came out of a period film.

Another thing he'd suggest would be to keep up with their studies and continue going to school, though Dean seemed to think that they'd do that anyway. Somehow he doubted it, but he'd been wrong before so keeping his business to himself sounded like a good idea.

He still remembered how much Dean protested moving in the first place; it made his chest feel heavy just thinking about it. Bobby hadn't wanted to lose them but he knew that a go-nowhere place wasn't good enough for those boys. He wanted the best for them; he didn't want Dean to end up in a junkyard selling crap like he did. Not that Dean wouldn't do it of course; he had no doubts in his mind that Dean would probably be content with it.

But Bobby knew that Dean was something more than just what Dean could be happy with. Sam always aimed high; Sam had a sense of self-worth that Dean never showed and for that Bobby was relieved. Dean was protective and loyal to a fault; he'd stick with his family no matter what but always seemed to leave himself out of the equation.

It was just a Dean trait, Bobby had worked on it over the years but it was still there in some shape or form. Dean still had moments where he defaulted to self-sacrificing, even in small doses; but it didn't happen as often or as seriously as it used to. Bobby managed to convince Dean, possibly more on a subconscious level, that he mattered and he was worth taking care of.

Bobby often found himself questioning the decision to push the boys out the door, that maybe he should've let them stay home and do nothing for a little while and find their bearings in the world. He never mentioned that to them, though. The last thing he needed was Dean attempting to convince him to let them come back.

Besides, he didn't regret the choice. He missed them a lot and he wished he could see them more but he valued their experiences, he wanted them to push themselves. Before the phone call that got him out to that mansion Bobby never thought twice about his money situation, he knew he'd never be able to move away from his lot. Now, though, he was unsure. He was content where he was at, he could stay in that junkyard for the rest of his life. He hadn't ever had the means to question that belief, there was no option B, his financial situation was a final statement in the matter. But now he could think about it and the idea scared him a little. He felt like maybe he was too old to do anything other than what he knew, he was stuck in his ways and very few things could change that.

As Bobby contemplated the new surroundings and possibilities in his and the boys' lives he didn't notice the stirring on the couch. At least not until a wing stretched out into his vision. Bobby looked over at Castiel who was yawning and stretching his muscles, barely waking up.

"Mornin'," he huffed with a slight laugh, still unsure of what to make of a winged man wandering about.

Castiel chirped a reply and folded his wings behind him, the feathers fluttering into place. Bobby had to admit, Cas was kinda adorable in a lost puppy sort of way. He understood why Dean had taken such a liking to him.

"Whatcha wanna do?" He asked out of habit and realized that there was a possibility Cas would just stare at him. Luckily the sound of Castiel's stomach answered the question. "Breakfast is a pretty good idea, kiddo." Bobby got up from his chair and headed to the door, "Now, where's the kitchen at?"

As he left the room Castiel was right on his heels, glancing about with perked up wings, "Dee?"

"Not here, went to get some stuff."

"Sam? Chet?"

"With Dean," Bobby tried not to laugh at the name pronunciation, making a mental note to use those later.

Castiel hummed thoughtfully and shuffled around so he could see Bobby's face, keeping up and staring at him as they walked. Bobby glanced down and was at a loss for what to say so he just kept walking, hoping he'd find the kitchen before dark. Cas grunted and pointed at him.

"What, me?"

Cas nodded.

"I'm Bobby Singer."

"Bubby," Cas repeated and Bobby sighed.

"No, Bobby."

"B… Buhb…" Cas struggled and stopped walking, all his focus on attempting to speak.

Bobby felt a little bad for even correcting it in the first place. He turned around found the old patience he used to have when Sam and Dean were growing up. "Say 'baw',"

Cas cleared his throat first, "Baaww…"

"Good, now say 'bee'."

"Bee!" Cas lit up, Bee was very close to Dee.

"Yeah! Now together, Baw-"

"Baaww"

"Bee."

"Bee!"

Bobby couldn't help but smile watching Cas light up while saying that. "Baw-bee."

"Baaww-Bee, baaaaawwww-bee."

"Great job," Bobby gave him a thumb's up and kept walking, "C'mon Cas, where's the kitchen?"

Castiel hopped along after him chanting happily, "Baaaaww-bee, Baw-bee, Baawww-bee,"

Even without Dean and the others there to explain it, Bobby was pretty sure he understood what was going on with Cas. Once in a while the boy showed he understood, he showed he could learn and was more human than anything else. Other times he devolved, couldn't understand at all, talked in chirps and grunts, and even acted a little like a child. Bobby wasn't sure why it was happening but he could tell that it was a thing he'd have to deal with throughout the day.

With no help from Cas whatsoever Bobby discovered the kitchen within in the following 20 minutes or so. He gawked silently at how big it was and noted how weird some state-of-the-art equipment looked with the rest of the dated furniture. He was no interior decorator, or anything, but he watched enough TLC to know that the room's design wasn't working.

"Wonder what these kids have in the fridge," he mumbled as he opened it up. To his surprise they stocked it with a few things, though nothing spectacular. "Yep, still thinkin' like college kids." He laughed and grabbed the bacon and eggs.

Bobby did his best to keep his mind on the same page about Castiel. When he saw Cas he immediately thought to treat him like any young adult, but he had to remind himself that Cas wasn't up to par on those standards. He wanted to hear more about the human experiments that Sam had started talking about the day before, the mad-scientist shenanigans and all that. Part of him was wary of it, though. He could see that Castiel was all too real, no one was playing a prank there; those wings were the real deal. Which meant that whatever experimentation happened was just as real, and it was probably as gruesome as Bobby could imagine it to be.

Castiel shuffled around Bobby as he fried up their meal, sniffing the air and staring at the process like he'd never seen it before in his entire life. "Dean said you eat like a horse, hope I made enough." Bobby said absently, he didn't mind talking to Cas even if Cas might not understand him. It was like talking to little kids, they were listening and learning from everything said even if they couldn't respond properly yet.

As he'd been taught Castiel moved to the table and sat, he waited with wide eyes as Bobby carried the plates over, bacon, eggs, and toast ready to go. The second it was placed in front of him Cas nearly dropped his face into it but he stopped half way and looked at the fork next to him. A low, displeased grunt escaped him and he grabbed the utensil. The scene happened very quickly but Bobby was so happy he got to witness it, at that point it was the funniest thing he'd seen all day.

Food and dishes were out of the way and Bobby found himself sitting with Cas on the couch watching Orange is the New Black. Bobby's feet were propped up on the coffee table he moved closer and within half an hour or so Cas began to mimic his posture. It was a little tougher for Cas, though. His wings wound up resting splayed out; though getting them to a comfortable position proved tedious and involved hitting Bobby a few times.

They were pretty comfortable when Bobby got a text, he checked to see that Jet sent him a 'movers will be there soon I forgot to text earlier' message. Bobby sighed and got up, he looked at Cas and lifted his index finger, "One second, you stay there."

Castiel made a throatal-noise but didn't budge; he seemed to enjoy his slumped laziness. Bobby walked over to the door and made sure it was locked and the latch was closed. He looked at it for a few seconds and decided he'd have to install some more security in the place later on. He then went back to the couch and sat down, propping up his feet as well.

He figured he had it all under control, as far as he knew Cas wouldn't be aware of the lock. He kept an eye on Cas, of course, and noticed the twitch in his wings. Bobby reached over and put his arm around Cas' shoulders and pulled him over, "Pretty good show, huh?"

Castiel looked toward the door then up at Bobby, he pointed and grunted short little noises in quick succession.

"I know someone's here, it's not Dean."

"Dee!"

"No, it isn't Dean." He tried to reassure Cas but Castiel was having none of it.

"Baw-bee!" Cas retorted angrily and struggled against Bobby's arm, it only took a few powerful flaps of his wings before he managed to knock Bobby away from him. Castiel dashed to the entrance and tried to open it but the door wouldn't cooperate. He tugged again and flapped his wings for assistance, "Dee!" he called and stopped to listen to the goings on outside. He frowned, his wings slowly lowered and he stood there listening through the door.

"Told ya," Bobby grumbled as he walked over, adjusting his hat. His disgruntled demeanour quickly melted when Cas looked up at him with big, sad eyes like he'd just watched his favourite toy get stolen. Bobby exhaled heavily and reached out to take Cas' hand, "C'mon kid, let's go sit down."

Cas took his hand and followed him back to the living room, "Dee...?" he asked softly and Bobby gave his hand a squeeze.

"He's coming back, it's okay."

That seemed to do the trick; Cas smiled a little and stepped closer to Bobby's side. "It's okay," he repeated quietly. "Sorry, Baw-bee."

"Don't worry about it," Bobby couldn't help but smile too, "I've taken harder hits than that." He settled them down on the couch again and attempted to keep a straight face when Cas tucked a wing behind his back and curled around him. It was kinda like a very long, feathery arm there and Bobby found he didn't mind at all, in fact he felt a little honoured.

"You're a good kid, Cas." He said and to his surprise Cas' reaction was a cheek-nuzzle, apparently he'd understood that one.