Weechesters and angst always go great together, especially in the woods.
Characters: Bobby, Sam, Dean and a small appearance by John
Word count: 5,502
Bobby heard a familiar rumble outside and glanced at the array of weapons laid out on his desk. He tossed an old coat over them as he hurried into the hallway but Sam Winchester came barreling through the front door before he was halfway there.
“I thought that door was locked,” Bobby murmured. Sam swept past Bobby and pounded up the stairs. Somewhere on the second floor a door slammed. “What the hell?”
Dean followed close behind his brother, carrying the bags belonging to him and Sam. Bobby immediately noticed the amulet he’d given to Sam on their previous visit hanging from Dean’s neck. He had meant for that amulet to go to John, for protection, anything to help keep his dang fool hide from getting killed and leaving those boys alone. Apparently that plan had backfired.
“Hey, kiddo. What’s up with your brother?”
“He knows,” Dean whispered. He glanced back to where John had just reached the front door. “Don’t say anything to Dad. He’ll kill me.”
Dean followed his brother up the stairs and left Bobby alone with John Winchester, a man he respected as a hunter but not as a father. Bobby had never been able to understand why a man would leave his kids to be raised by others while he was out searching for something he may never find. Didn’t he understand that some things were more important than revenge?
John gave his usual sheepish smile for when he showed up unannounced. “Hey, Bobby.”
“I was wondering if you could watch the boys for a bit?”
Bobby knew what his answer was going to be as soon as he’d heard the Impala pull up in his drive but he still felt John should know other people sometimes actually had plans that didn’t necessarily fit into his unhealthy obsession. “I really was planning on doing some hunting this week. Old Mother Hubbard’s cupboards and everything else is getting pretty bare and the junkyard hasn’t been pulling in much business lately so I’m gonna have to resort to some old time game hunting.”
John’s face lit up. “Do you mind taking the boys? It would be great practice for them. You know Dean is handy with a gun and sooner or later, Sammy needs to learn. I’m thinking it’s not going to be much longer before I have to let him in on what’s going on if he hasn’t already figured it out.”
Bobby sighed. The man really was oblivious to what went on with his sons; otherwise he would know something was going on with Sam right now. It had only taken Bobby two seconds to see it. How long was it going to take the boy’s own father?
“Yeah, sure. We’ll work something out. I wish I’d known you were coming though. I would have had some pie waiting for Dean.”
Dean had appeared at the top of the stairs and was listening to the conversation. He grinned at the mention of pie.
John looked puzzled. “Pie?”
Bobby had to literally bite his tongue at John’s ignorance of one of Dean’s favorite food groups. The boy was twelve years old. Hadn’t his father ever bought him pie?
Dean started down the stairs and John smiled up at his son. Bobby could see that John was proud of Dean but was it because he was his son or was it because he was his perfect little soldier? Bobby wished he could give John the benefit of the doubt but he couldn’t.
“Dean, take care of your brother while I’m gone and try to stay out of Bobby’s hair, okay?”
“That’s my boy.” John reached out and tousled Dean’s hair. “I should be back in less than a week if everything goes well.”
John headed for the door, Dean following close behind. John exchanged a few words with his son and then he was gone. As the Impala disappeared into the night Bobby heard Dean whisper, “Be safe, Dad.”
“So, what’s up with your brother?” Bobby placed a plate of fried eggs and bologna in front of Dean. It was the only thing he was able to come up with from his depleted food stores but the boy didn’t seem to mind. Sam was the picky one but if he came downstairs looking for food, Bobby still had a box of Lucky Charms that hadn’t been opened.
Dean shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth before attempting to answer, resulting in a somewhat muffled reply.
“Son, chew your food, then answer the question.” Bobby rinsed the dirty skillet in the sink as he waited for Dean’s answer.
“He’s pissed at Dad.” Dean managed to inhale most of the food on his plate in about three bites.
“For what?” Bobby rummaged in his freezer, hoping to find a forgotten frozen pie somewhere in its depths but the best he could come up with was a pint of butter pecan ice cream.
“Take your pick. He’s pissed at Dad for lying to him; he’s pissed because Dad missed Christmas…..”
“Your Dad missed Christmas?”
“He was working……he would have been there if he could have.”
Speaking of lying, damn if Dean wasn’t getting pretty good at it himself but he’s still gotta learn to meet someone’s eyes while doing it.
“Dessert?” Bobby offered the ice cream to Dean and decided to drop the subject for now and approach another one. “So, I have to go deer hunting in the morning. Guess you can tell the pickings around here are getting pretty slim.”
Dean shrugged as he shoveled ice cream into his mouth.
Damn, that boy is a bottomless pit. When was the last time he ate?
“Think you and Sam would be up for a trip to the woods?”
“Sounds good to me.” Dean licked the last of the ice cream from the spoon. “Don’t know how Sam’s going to take it though. Want me to tell him?”
“Nah, I’ll tell him.”
“Bobby?” Dean was eyeing the rest of the kitchen as if he was looking for a morsel of food that Bobby may have overlooked.
“You still hungry? Should we run into town and get a pizza?”
“No, I’m okay.” Dean wandered over to the fridge and pulled it open. “I was just wondering what you and Sam were going to eat.”
“I ate long before you got here.” This is how you lie, boy. “And there’s still a little bologna left for Sam plus there’s a whole box of them Lucky Charms he likes.”
Dean smiled. “Okay, I guess we’re good until we can bring home something tomorrow, right?”
“Why don’t we take a quick run into town anyway? You boys will need to eat something in the morning. Can’t let you walk into them woods with your bellies growlin’. We’ll never bring anything home.”
Dean ran for the stairs. “Sam, get your ass down here right now!”
“Bite me!” retorted Sam at the top of his lungs.
Bobby grinned. Never a dull moment with these two around. John Winchester didn’t know what he was missing.
Bobby was up before the proverbial rooster the next morning. They were only going to the woods adjoining his salvage yard but he wanted to get in early before the deer started moving. It would be his best chance at bagging one. He’d been feeding them this year so he was pretty confident of coming home with fresh venison.
He rummaged through all of his hunting gear and managed to scrounge up two orange vests for the boys to wear. There shouldn’t be anyone else hunting in his woods but he didn’t want to take a chance when it came to Sam and Dean’s lives.
He had yet to hear any movement from the boys so he took the vests up to their room and peeked in. Both boys were still fast asleep, one of Dean’s arms slung protectively over his younger brother.
Bobby shook the eldest Winchester gently. “Dean?”
“Hmmm?” Dean buried his face deeper into the pillow.
“Wake up, boy.”
Bobby waited expectantly but Dean didn’t move. He shook the boy again and Sam started to stir. Sam shrugged his older brother’s arm from over his shoulder. As if on automatic pilot, Dean’s arm immediately returned to its previous position.
“Dude, get off me!” Sam pushed Dean away and Dean finally managed to open one eye.
“You don’t have to yell.” Dean yawned widely and noticed Bobby standing by the bed. “Hey, Bobby, what’re you doing?”
Bobby rolled his eyes. “Trying to wake the dead apparently.” He tossed the orange vests on the bed. “Put these on after you get dressed. And dress warmly, hats and gloves, okay?”
As he started for the door Dean called out, “Hey, what’s for breakfast?”
Bobby had to smother a smile as he said, “Nothing if sleeping beauty doesn’t hurry up and get out of bed.”
The bedroom became a flurry of motion behind him and Bobby made a mental note to mention food a lot sooner next time.
Bobby was cursing John Winchester six ways from Sunday as he attempted to teach a bleary eyed Sam and Dean how to stealthily enter the woods so as not to scare their prey away. At the rate they were going Bobby figured they’d only manage to nab a deer if it was stone deaf because both boys were stepping about as lightly as the friggin’ Jolly Green Giant.
Not that it was the boy’s fault. They were boys. They should have still been tucked in their beds with nothing better to think about than what to watch on TV or which silly game they would play to pass the time. It wasn’t their fault that their dad was continuously dropping them off into other people’s lap with no regard for anyone else’s plans. Bobby had to hunt today. Dean and Sam had eaten the rest of the bologna this morning while getting ready, not to mention the two pieces of cold pizza that had been left over from their quick trip into town last night.
Bobby had enough money in his wallet to buy them dinner tonight if the hunting trip was a bust but after that he would have to start calling in some favors. There were a few people who still owed him for work he’d done this past summer. Hopefully they would be able to pay. If not, he was worried how he would manage to feed two growing boys until their father decided to return.
You could have told John no.
Yeah, like that was gonna happen. Having these boys here was the one bright spot in his otherwise lonely existence. It wasn’t that he didn’t have things to do. Lord knows other hunters kept him busy enough answering the phones and looking up lore but Sam and Dean were the closest thing he’d ever have to his own kids and he couldn’t turn them away. Not ever.
Sam had always been the quieter of the two boys, the one exception seemed to be sneaking through the woods. Dean had finally become aware enough to actually try and be quiet but Sam apparently didn’t care. Bobby finally nestled them down behind a huge oak tree, halfway up a small hill. They were facing a clearing that had deer trails running smack through the middle of it, not that anyone cared when he pointed that out with his flashlight. Dean feigned polite interest but looked as though he could nod off at any moment now that they had stopped moving.
As the sun started to rise on the horizon, Bobby could see just well enough to study the youngest Winchester. Sam had hardly said two words to him since arriving last night. Bobby knew what was eating at him but he wasn’t sure what to say to the boy. It’s not easy for a grown man to realize the things that go bump in the night are real. How hard must it be for an eight year old kid?
“Sam? You warm enough?”
Sam nodded as Dean grabbed Bobby’s arm.
“Is that a deer?” he whispered.
Bobby squinted in the dim light. Something was moving below them but Bobby couldn’t be for sure it was a deer until the sun came up a bit more. He never took a shot at anything unless he knew what it was. Too many hunting accidents happened when idjits couldn’t wait just five more minutes. Of course, he was taking a chance that the deer would bolt, especially with two restless boys moving beside him but it was a chance he was willing to take.
Bobby glanced at Dean and saw that he actually appeared interested for the first time since waking that morning. He offered the rifle to Dean, knowing full well that the boy knew how to use it. He’d shown him how the last time the boys spent the weekend at his house.
“You wanna shoot it?”
Dean’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Really?”
“Why not? You know how to use it.”
Dean handled the 30-30 reverently.
“Now, you can’t shoot until you know for sure it’s a deer. Got it?”
Dean nodded and balanced the gun against his shoulder, lining his eye up with the scope. Bobby noticed that even Sam had become interested as he gazed into the clearing, searching for the deer.
Dean stayed focused and when the sun was up enough to see a deer standing in the clearing Sam whispered, “Don’t shoot it, Dean.”
Dean hesitated, looking at his younger brother. Bobby glanced at the deer but it hadn’t moved.
“Sammy, I have to shoot it. Bobby needs the meat.”
There were tears standing in Sam’s eyes as he pointed off to the side of the clearing. “She has babies.”
Bobby followed Sam’s finger and saw two spotted fawns munching on the low hanging branches of a cedar tree. They were old enough to survive without the momma deer but Bobby knew that wasn’t what Sam was thinking.
Ah, dammit to hell! Why did there have to be babies?
“Sam, I know it doesn’t seem right but those aren’t really babies. They can make it without their mom and I really need the meat.” Bobby wished he had more experience with kids. He was pretty sure there was nothing he could say that would change the way Sam was feeling right now.
Sam ignored him and pleaded with his brother. “Please don’t shoot it, Dean.”
Dean’s face was a mask of emotions, the most prevalent one: pain at his brother’s distress. He handed the rifle to Bobby. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Sam beamed up at his older brother and Bobby cursed John Winchester once more for what he had to do. The deer was still grazing in the clearing and Bobby needed the meat. Gunfire echoed in the silent woods and Sam began to cry.
Bobby took a shower and put on fresh clothes before heading upstairs to have a talk with Sam. Before field dressing the deer, he had led the boys back to the edge of the woods and watched as a sullen Sam had let himself be herded back to the house by his older brother.
The boys had spent an hour without him and he wondered what had been said. He paused at the door as he heard the brothers talking, knew he shouldn’t listen but couldn’t seem to help himself.
“Sammy, quit being an ass and tell me what’s wrong.” Dean sounded exasperated.
“Why? It doesn’t change anything!” Sam’s voice was muffled, as if he was face down in a pillow.
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset. I mean, yeah, I get that killing the deer sucked but not having anything to eat sucks more. You know that.”
What’s that supposed to mean?
“Yeah, well, I’m used to it, okay?”
Oh, holy hell. John Winchester needs to get his crap together or I’m gonna put a bullet in his ass.
“You’ve been acting weird ever since Dad got back this last time. What is up with you?” Dean sighed loudly. “Is it the whole monster thing? I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I’d already read it in Dad’s journal, Dean.” Sam’s voice was suddenly clearer so he had either sat up or at least turned over to look at his brother. Bobby figured that was progress if he’d been lying face down for the past hour.
“Look, nothing is gonna change what Dad does. He’s been doing it since I was four. He’s not gonna stop until…..”
“Until he finds what killed Mom.” Sam finished the sentence for him.
“Yeah.” Dean sniffed loudly and Bobby heard him cross the room, pacing.
That boy is too damn young to be pacing the floor.
The boys were silent for a few minutes and Bobby decided this might be the time to make his entrance when Sam whispered, “What makes us different from monsters?”
“What makes us…..do you think…..how can you even…….” Dean sputtered, trying to make sense of his brother’s question.
Dean had been born to this. He knew what was out there, knew what had happened to their mom. Probably didn’t know everything but Bobby figured it wouldn’t be long before the boy knew the whole ugly truth. Even without knowing everything, there was no grey area where Dean was concerned. Monsters were evil and they needed to be killed.
Sam didn’t seem to understand that just yet but Bobby knew the kid. Maybe not as well as he knew Dean because Sam had always been more of a closed book but Sam was a deep thinker and somewhere in his mind, there was a grey area and somehow what happened today had triggered it all.
“Bobby killed their mom, Dean. How is that any different than what happened to us?”
“Because we’re not animals, Sammy!”
Bobby cleared his throat rather loudly and entered the room. “Hey, boys.”
Both boys jumped as if they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Dean glared at Sam as if daring him to say anything to Bobby about what they’d just been discussing.
“Dean, you mind heading on downstairs and washing up for lunch? I’d like to have a word with your brother.”
Dean looked as though he wanted to argue but instead he mumbled, “Yes, sir.”
Once Dean’s footsteps had faded on the stairs, Bobby sat down next to Sam on the edge of the bed.
“You still mad at me?”
Sam shook his head but kept his eyes focused on the floor.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I really am.”
Sam remained silent and Bobby contemplated what to say next.
God, I suck at this.
“Will the baby deer really be okay?” The words came out as a choked whisper.
“Yeah, Sam. They’ll be okay. They’re old enough to take care of themselves.”
Sam nodded as if accepting Bobby’s statement.
“You’d better come on downstairs before your brother eats everything in sight.”
“I’m not hungry.” Sam crawled up on the bed, once again burying his face in the pillow. “I just want to sleep.”
Bobby stood for a moment, uncertain of what to do and then decided maybe it was best for Sam to sleep it off. He’d had an early start this morning and was emotionally wrung out. Maybe a little sleep would make everything look different and hopefully not seem so bad. Bobby flipped off the light and shut the bedroom door before heading downstairs to make lunch for Dean.
Sam ended up hiding away in the bedroom for the rest of the day and night. Bobby didn’t try to approach him again, figuring it best to wait until morning. Dean had finally taken a bowl of Lucky Charms up to his brother around supper time but had returned with the full bowl. He shrugged at Bobby’s questioning look, sat at the kitchen table and ate the cereal himself.
Bobby had gotten up early to fry some tenderloin for the boys, realizing Sam might never eat any meat at his house again. Bobby popped open a can of biscuits he’d found rolling around in the bottom drawer of the fridge and hoped that at least maybe Sam would eat a couple of those.
Dean shuffled into the room, rubbing at his eyes. Bobby wondered how much of his time last night was spent trying to console his younger brother.
“Where’s Sam?” Dean asked around a stifled yawn.
“He hasn’t come down yet.” Warning bells were ringing in Bobby’s head.
“He’s not upstairs.”
Dean hurried back the way he came, checking each of the rooms on Bobby’s lower level before sprinting up the stairs. Bobby went down to check the basement, knowing it was not likely that Sam was there but the way that kid’s mind worked, you never could tell.
Bobby’s search came up empty and he rejoined Dean in the kitchen, who had retrieved his coat and boots from upstairs and was frantically pulling them on. Dean wasn’t the only one who was worried. If Sam wasn’t in the house, he had somehow sneaked out without either of them knowing, which was quite a feat considering how much noise he’d made in the woods yesterday.
“Where do you think you’re going?” asked Bobby.
“He’s in the woods, Bobby. I know he is. He wouldn’t quit worrying about those damn deer last night.” Dean tugged on his gloves as Bobby grabbed his own coat from the hook in the hallway. Almost as an afterthought he snatched his 30-30 from the gun rack as they dashed out the back door.
Bobby and Dean retraced their steps from yesterday. Bobby decided Sam paid more attention that he’d originally thought or the boy wouldn’t have been able to follow the exact same path as the day before. As they drew closer to the clearing, Bobby could hear someone sobbing.
“Sammy?” Dean called out softly.
They found Sam kneeling, face buried in his hands, his small body shaking as he wept. On the ground in front of him was one of the fawns, ripped to shreds. Bobby was on instant alert, his eyes searching everywhere for any sign of the predator that had done this. Mountain lions weren’t that common here but one had been killed twenty minutes south of Sioux Falls earlier in the year so it was a possibility.
Or what if it’s something else?
Bobby motioned for Dean to take charge of his brother. He shouldn’t put that on the kid but right now he had to be on alert for whatever might still be out there.
Dean instinctively knew what Bobby meant. Bobby could read it in his face, Dean was in hunter mode now and the fact that he switched to it so easily made Bobby’s heart ache.
Dean was at his brother’s side in three long steps. He reached for Sam’s arm but Sam turned to Bobby, tears streaming down his face. “YOU SAID THEY’D BE OKAY!”
“Sammy, hush!” Dean clamped his hand over Sam’s mouth as Sam squirmed in his grasp. “Whatever killed that deer might still be here and we don’t know what it is.”
Bobby saw Sam’s eyes grow wide with the understanding that this might actually be his first supernatural hunt. Bobby hoped to hell it wasn’t but either way, the situation wasn’t a good one.
“Back to the house as quickly and quietly as possible, boys,” Bobby whispered.
Dean led the way with Bobby close on their heels, wishing he had eyes in the back of his head because one hunter just wasn’t enough when you didn’t know what you were up against and two boy’s lives were at stake.
Bobby heard a low snarl from somewhere on the hill above them. Dean glanced back at him, fear in his eyes.
“Steady, Dean. Keep moving. I’ve got your back.”
At least Bobby now knew it was a mountain lion and probably a pissed one since they had been parading all around its kill.
Damn cats, big or little…..they’re all bitchy that way.
The cat suddenly appeared on a rock outcropping a few feet in front of them.
“Do not run.” If the boys ran, the cat would chase them and take them down before Bobby could ever get off a shot.
Bobby slowly raised the rifle to his shoulder, avoiding any sudden movement that would startle the big cat. From the corner of his eye, Bobby saw Dean shift his body until he was in front of Sam. At the same instant the mountain lion leaped from its perch toward both of the boys, Dean shoved Sam away from him and Bobby took careful aim, hitting the cat in midair.
“Dean, MOVE!” Bobby shouted but Dean stood transfixed and the big cat hit him full force with its dead weight, knocking him to the ground.
Sam’s one word cry was pure agony. Bobby silently thanked God, or whatever being was up there, that he had always been such a good shot. Otherwise, he’d have more than Dean’s injuries to worry about as Sam, with no thought for his own safety, pushed against the mountain lion for all he was worth, trying to remove its body, which was covering most of his older brother.
Bobby gently pulled the younger boy away and rolled the big cat off of the elder Winchester. All the color drained from Sam’s face at the sight of his unconscious brother. Bobby wanted to comfort Sam but right now he had more immediate problems to worry about as he saw blood flowing from a wound at Dean’s right temple.
Kneeling beside Dean, Bobby saw the rock the boy’s head must have struck as he fell from the impact of the cat. He began running his fingers over Dean’s skull, feeling for anything that would indicate this was more than just a bad blow to the head. Finding nothing to indicate a skull fracture, Bobby expanded his examination but Dean appeared to have no broken bones.
Bobby pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped away the blood from Dean’s face. The blood flow had slowed to nothing more than a trickle and Bobby could see the wound wasn’t deep. He couldn’t know for sure how bad the head injury was until Dean was awake and if that wasn’t soon, he was calling 911.
“Let’s get your brother back to the house, Sam.” Bobby picked up his rifle and handed it to the boy, who looked absolutely terrified. “Hold on to this while I carry your brother, okay?”
Sam nodded, holding the gun at arm’s length, while Bobby scooped Dean up in his arms. Dean’s head lolled against his shoulder as Bobby whispered, “Boy, you better not break my heart.”
They were almost back to the house when Dean began to stir. As Dean opened his eyes, Bobby saw both pupils looked normal and he began to breathe easier.
“Bobby? What the—-“ Dean craned his neck to search for his brother. “Sammy, you okay? Bobby, put me down!”
“Quit your belly-achin’, boy. We’re almost to the house.”
“And I can walk!” Dean said indignantly.
Dean squirmed in Bobby’s arms but he held the boy tight.
“You just got knocked out by a friggin’ mountain lion, Dean. You can damn well be still until I can take a good look at you!”
A frown settled on Dean’s face but he ceased his struggle. Once inside the house, Bobby relinquished his hold on the boy at the back door. He wanted to make sure Dean wasn’t feeling dizzy so he let him make his way up to the bedroom, following closely behind. Once Dean was seated on the bed, Bobby went to retrieve his first aid kit and found Sam in the kitchen, the gun clutched in his hands, obviously still shaken up over what had happened.
“Here, let me take that, Sam.” Bobby returned the gun to its appointed place. “Why don’t you fetch the first aid kit under the sink and bring it up to your brother’s room?”
Sam nodded and headed toward the sink as Bobby made his way back upstairs. In the bedroom he found Dean studying his wound in front of the mirror.
“Do you think this will leave a scar, Bobby?” Dean turned to him and grinned. “Scars are cool.”
“I’m gonna put a scar on your ass if you don’t get back to that bed.”
“I’m fine, Bobby.” Dean flopped down on the bed as Sam came in bearing the first aid kit.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Bobby opened up the kit and fished out a bottle of alcohol.
Sam stood silently by the bed, watching intently as Bobby ministered to his brother. From the corner of his eye, Bobby watched the emotions playing across the youngest Winchester’s face. Sam might be more of a closed book on some things but he’d never make a poker player. His expression gave too much away.
“You okay, Sammy?” Dean asked.
“Dean, I’m sorry.” The words came out as a whisper.
Sam shook his head and fled from the room. Dean started to follow but Bobby pushed him back down.
“Oh, no, you don’t. You stay in that bed.”
“I’ll take care of your brother. You get some rest.” Bobby glanced at his watch. “It’s not even lunchtime and you’ve already had a long day.”
“I’m not tired,” argued Dean.
“I don’t care.”
Bobby crossed his arms and stared at Dean. He sighed loudly, lay back against the pillow and in five minutes he was sound asleep. Bobby pulled a blanket over him and went to find his younger brother.
This time Sam was hiding in the basement. Bobby thought he’d left the house again but he found Sam in the space under the basement stairs, his knees pulled up to his chin, tears staining his face.
Bobby sat down on the stairs so his back was facing Sam. “It’s hard, isn’t it?”
“What?” Sam sniffed.
“Not having a mom.”
Sam was silent.
“That’s why you were worried about the baby deer, wasn’t it? I killed their mom and you were afraid for them, same as you’re afraid for you and Dean, especially now that you know what’s out there.”
“Dean told you?”
“Yeah, he told me.”
“I almost got Dean killed today,” whispered Sam.
Bobby wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was true that they wouldn’t have been in the woods today if it hadn’t been for Sam but it could just have easily happened yesterday.
“No, it’s my fault, son. I shouldn’t have taken you boys hunting without really talking it through. I just……..”
I just did what I had to do. Damn you, John Winchester.
“Will the other deer be okay alone?”
Bobby hesitated before answering. He’d already messed this question up once.
“I won’t lie to you, Sam. Normally, the deer would be fine but the mountain lion, well, that wasn’t normal.”
“I wouldn’t be fine.”
Bobby peered around at Sam and saw the tears starting up again.
“What do you mean?”
“If Dean died……I….I…w-wouldn’t be f-fine.”
Oh Jesus. Neither would I.
“Come here, boy.”
Sam crawled out from under the stairs, rubbing at his eyes.
“This has been a rough week for you, hasn’t it?”
“It’ll get better, son.” Bobby patted Sam on the cheek and that was all it took for the dam to break. Sam threw himself into Bobby’s arms, sobbing against his shoulder.
“Hey, it’s okay, kiddo.” Bobby held the boy tight, hoping to give him some sort of comfort. There were no words to calm Sam’s fears, nothing that could be written in stone. A hunter’s life was full of nothing but sadness, blood and death. Both boys had been introduced to that today, an initiation of sorts as to what the rest of their lives would be like if they continued on the road their Dad had put them on.
Bobby said a silent prayer that somehow they could get off that road, even if it meant he’d never see them again. He’d rather know they were healthy and happy somewhere without him than watch them suffer a hunter’s life.
“Let’s go check on your brother, okay.” Bobby said after Sam’s sobs had quieted.
Bobby led the way to Dean’s room where they found the boy still sleeping, the protection amulet meant for John gleaming against his chest.
I reckon that amulet is hanging around the right neck after all.
Sam reached out and touched the bandage on his brother’s head.
“Is he really okay?”
“Yeah, son, he’s fine. I promise.”
Dean opened one eye and grabbed his brother’s hand. “Hey asshat, quit touching my bandage.”
“Shut up, jerkface.” Sam finally managed a smile as Dean swatted him with a pillow.
Yep, John Winchester doesn’t know what he’s missing.
Thanks for reading!
Micaiah (aka winchesterwoman)