A Free and Open Encounter
Title: A Free and Open Encounter
Characters: Bobby, John, Sam, Dean
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,920
Summary: Bobby isn't surprised when John Winchester finally comes calling. He doesn't expect the man's two small children, however, or the trouble they bring. (Or, Supernatural with daemons.)
A/N: This is, technically, the prequel to another His Dark Materials fusion fic I am still working on, but in the middle of writing a scene with Bobby, he decided he wanted to tell his backstory with the boys. So I wrote it. Title from Areopagitica by Milton. Betaed by the always wonderful alwaysenduphere <3
Bobby isn’t surprised when he finally hears from John Winchester.
Truth be told, he was waiting for it after hearing from the Harvelles all about the man whose wife died under not-so-normal circumstances - how the experience changed him, sent him searching for the thing that killed her, head-first and knee-deep into a life he should never have known existed.
So, when John calls asking for help with some research - drownings in a small town he thinks might be a kelpie but could just as easily be a bunch of overzealous kids - Bobby stares at Brynn sunning herself lazily in a sunbeam and sighs, already scanning the shelves for the books they’ll need.
“Sure. Come on by when you can.”
--
John doesn’t waste any time, pulling up in front of the house less than a day later. Bobby whistles at the car, 67 Chevy, black and sleek, her engine practically purring through the summer heat.
Rumsfeld sits on the porch, barking up a storm until Bobby turns and growls, “Shut up, mutt,” and he does, tail wagging and tongue lolling out of his mouth.
Brynn smirks at the dog and turns her attention back to the Impala. “She’s a beauty,” she says reverently and Bobby grins. His girl always has good taste in automobiles.
The Impala rolls to a stop and a man Bobby can only assume must be John steps out. A large, brown and white bobcat - Delilah, Bobby remembers from his short conversation with him - follows, taking in her surroundings with narrowed eyes before turning back to the car and saying “Dean,” in a soft and serious voice. Bobby’s eyebrows rise to his hairline as the passenger door opens and two scruffy kids tumble out.
The taller, older of the two has wide, knowing eyes that take in every detail with the same careful precision as his daddy’s daemon. He has the eyes of a hunter, and he can’t be more than seven years old, one knobby knee showing through a split in the leg of his jeans.
The little one rubs his sleeve under the edge of his nose, and Rumsfeld creeps across the yard, sticking his nose in his face and sniffing loudly. The boy giggles, moving towards the dog with his hands outstretched until his brother yanks him back by the straps of his overalls. His daemon shifts into a bobcat identical to Delilah, only smaller, and grasps the younger daemon by the scruff of her neck. She struggles, flicking between several shapes in an attempt to escape before settling on a growling kitten, batting playfully at the other daemon with tiny claws.
Bobby never had any kids of his own, never even entertained the thought after Karen died, but that doesn’t mean the idea never crossed his mind. Still, even he can acknowledge just by looking at them that these boys are trouble.
“Didn’t tell me you had kids, Winchester,” Bobby mutters, raising an eyebrow. He wonders why Harvelle, of all people, failed to mention that detail; Ellen must have pitched a bitch when she found out they were out on the road with him.
Brynn twitches her nose but doesn’t say a word.
“Didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” John grumbles; Delilah’s tail lashes back and forth.
Bobby shares a glance with Brynn, who lifts one flopping ear as she hops around his ankles and back into the house.
He sighs, pushing the door the rest of the way open. “Come on in.”
Bobby gestures to the study with the jut of his chin as John makes swift introductions, quickly pointing to each of his boys and their daemons in turn before settling them down. He mumbles something to Dean, holding out a child-sized backpack.
Dean nods, grumbles something that sounds shockingly like, “Yessir,” and settles on the couch with the bag between his crossed legs.
Sam scrambles up onto Bobby’s chair while his daddy’s back is turned, and the leather creaks under his small, sneakered feet. He leans his head on folded arms on the edge of the desk. His daemon, Astrid, sits in the crook of his elbow, tiny mouse ears flicking towards the ceiling. Both of them stare at Brynn so hard their eyes cross. Bobby chokes back a laugh when Brynn twitches her nose and Sam attempts to copy the motion but only succeeds in looking like he needs to sneeze.
“Don’t stand on the chair, Sammy,” John says gruffly, and Sam pouts but still wiggles his way down. He pulls gently on John’s pants leg as his father sits in the chair he just vacated.
“Bunny!” Sam says excitedly, pointing at Brynn. Astrid shifts into a small, brown rabbit, sniffing at Brynn, who noses at her neck.
“Hare,” Brynn says sagely, and Sam tugs on his hair, tongue twisting a little on the ending as he repeats the word. He giggles, and Astrid hops into his arms.
“Come on, Sammy,” Dean says quietly from the doorway, holding out one hand; the other clutches his backpack by one of the straps. Sam immediately reaches out, fingers twining around Dean’s as the older boy pulls him out of the room, bag dragging on the floor behind them. Dean’s daemon, Saskia, shifts into a coyote, loping around Dean’s legs.
“Some well-behaved kids you got there,” Bobby says slowly, turning his attention back to John.
To his surprise, Winchester snorts. “You’ve never driven more than twenty minutes with them.” He gestures to the books on Bobby’s desk, all business. “That them?”
The next few hours are spent in relative silence beyond the turning of old, crackling pages and John scratching notes every so often into a worn, leather journal he pulls from his pack.
Bobby lifts his head at the sound of laughter from the yard and stands up under the guise of getting another cup of coffee. He gestures to John’s empty mug; John grunts, nudging the cup towards Bobby without ever looking up from his notes.
Bobby rolls his eyes, taking both mugs to the kitchen. He glances out back, through the windows over the sink, and watches as Saskia shifts into a border collie, chasing Astrid around the yard. Astrid becomes a ferret in that swift way only small children’s daemons can, clawing up Sam’s leg to wrap around his neck, peeking her grey head out from under his chin.
Rumsfeld barks at all of them from the porch but doesn’t move, settling down with his head on his paws.
Bobby shakes his head with amusement, then re-fills both mugs and sits back down at the table, looking at John out of the corner of his eye.
He clears his throat, turning a page in his book. “Can’t be easy. Travelin’ with two little ones like that.”
John takes a long, slow drink of his coffee, glancing up just long enough to settle him with a long, hard stare.
“It ain’t,” Delilah growls, lifting her head from where she lies on the floor. Brynn opens one eye on the edge of the desk, blinks at Delilah, then goes back to dozing.
--
Dean and his father eat Bobby out of house and home that night, second helpings turning into thirds, while Sam picks at everything on his plate except the mashed potatoes. Dean scoops the rest of his potatoes onto his brother’s plate, while somehow managing to continue shoveling food into his mouth.
Sam grins, and Dean glances at John before quickly throwing a handful of peas at his brother. When Astrid catches them in her mouth, Saskia shifts from wolf pup to owl, wrestling Astrid, hawk-shaped, to the floor. Bobby chuckles at their antics, and Brynn smiles, warm and fond with a wary edge that matches the questionable weight settling into the pit of his stomach.
“Boys,” John says, a single-word warning, and the two daemons shake away from each other in a ball of ruffled feathers.
After dinner, John continues researching while the boys play at the other end of the room with a set of battered, green army men Dean digs out of his backpack. They whisper and giggle quietly while their daemons lay quietly on the floor between them.
A sudden silence makes Bobby lift his head. The two boys are sacked out on the floor, army men scattered around them. Sam’s face is pressed into Dean’s armpit, and the older kid is on his back, out like a light.
Bobby smiles at the sight until Brynn whispers, “Bobby,” close to his ear, halfway between awe and terror, and that’s when Bobby notices their daemons.
Astrid and Saskia are pressed against both boys, one between, the other on their feet, shifted into the same puppy shade and shape, so Bobby doesn’t know where one ends and the other begins. A voice in the back of his mind whispers that this is wrong, it shouldn’t be allowed. No one touches another person’s daemon - ever. You don’t go around touching someone else’s soul.
Brynn winds her way into his lap and presses her head into his hand, seeking comfort in a way she rarely, if ever, does. Bobby tears his eyes away from the brothers and stares at John, who grasps the arms of his chair with white-knuckled hands. Delilah’s hackles stand on end, anxious and wound up tight in a way she hasn’t fully expressed since they arrived. Both of them stare at him, silent, stubborn and defiant, under that, scared - but not even a little bit shocked. They’ve seen this before.
Bobby knots his hand tightly in Brynn’s fur, troubled, but he doesn’t say a word.
--
In the morning, John tells Bobby they’re heading out, and Bobby would be lying if he said he didn’t feel relieved.
Brynn keeps close all through breakfast, tripping Bobby up every time he moves his feet. She noses at his ankle when Sam skids into the kitchen, tripping over his shoes. Dean presses a hand down on his shoulder, crouching down to tie his laces.
Sam smiles, and Astrid runs circles around them, chasing after Saskia, both of them still identical. Bobby breathes a little easier when Saskia finally shifts from puppy to eagle, soaring just above their heads before all four of them tumble out the back door.
John grunts. “Thanks for the help,” he says stiffly, and Bobby nods, shaking his hand until Sam runs directly between them, giggling.
Dean runs after him, carefully, so he doesn’t step on Astrid’s tail. He tugs on Sam’s shirt until he turns around. “Say bye, Sam,” he says quietly.
Sam waves his hand wildly, yells, “Bye!” and Dean rolls his eyes, shuffling his brother into the car in that long-suffering way only a sibling could manage.
John stares at his boys for a long moment before subtly shaking himself. Delilah doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even look back as she settles onto the passenger seat, and Bobby watches the Impala as the engine turns over and it rolls down the path and out of sight.
“Well,” Brynn says quietly, the rumble of the car long gone.
Bobby takes off his hat so he can rub a hand through the hair at the back of his head.
“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows better than to think this will be the last time he ever sees the Winchesters. He scoops Brynn into his arms, settles his cap back on, and slowly shuffles back inside of the house.
Characters: Bobby, John, Sam, Dean
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,920
Summary: Bobby isn't surprised when John Winchester finally comes calling. He doesn't expect the man's two small children, however, or the trouble they bring. (Or, Supernatural with daemons.)
A/N: This is, technically, the prequel to another His Dark Materials fusion fic I am still working on, but in the middle of writing a scene with Bobby, he decided he wanted to tell his backstory with the boys. So I wrote it. Title from Areopagitica by Milton. Betaed by the always wonderful alwaysenduphere <3
Bobby isn’t surprised when he finally hears from John Winchester.
Truth be told, he was waiting for it after hearing from the Harvelles all about the man whose wife died under not-so-normal circumstances - how the experience changed him, sent him searching for the thing that killed her, head-first and knee-deep into a life he should never have known existed.
So, when John calls asking for help with some research - drownings in a small town he thinks might be a kelpie but could just as easily be a bunch of overzealous kids - Bobby stares at Brynn sunning herself lazily in a sunbeam and sighs, already scanning the shelves for the books they’ll need.
“Sure. Come on by when you can.”
--
John doesn’t waste any time, pulling up in front of the house less than a day later. Bobby whistles at the car, 67 Chevy, black and sleek, her engine practically purring through the summer heat.
Rumsfeld sits on the porch, barking up a storm until Bobby turns and growls, “Shut up, mutt,” and he does, tail wagging and tongue lolling out of his mouth.
Brynn smirks at the dog and turns her attention back to the Impala. “She’s a beauty,” she says reverently and Bobby grins. His girl always has good taste in automobiles.
The Impala rolls to a stop and a man Bobby can only assume must be John steps out. A large, brown and white bobcat - Delilah, Bobby remembers from his short conversation with him - follows, taking in her surroundings with narrowed eyes before turning back to the car and saying “Dean,” in a soft and serious voice. Bobby’s eyebrows rise to his hairline as the passenger door opens and two scruffy kids tumble out.
The taller, older of the two has wide, knowing eyes that take in every detail with the same careful precision as his daddy’s daemon. He has the eyes of a hunter, and he can’t be more than seven years old, one knobby knee showing through a split in the leg of his jeans.
The little one rubs his sleeve under the edge of his nose, and Rumsfeld creeps across the yard, sticking his nose in his face and sniffing loudly. The boy giggles, moving towards the dog with his hands outstretched until his brother yanks him back by the straps of his overalls. His daemon shifts into a bobcat identical to Delilah, only smaller, and grasps the younger daemon by the scruff of her neck. She struggles, flicking between several shapes in an attempt to escape before settling on a growling kitten, batting playfully at the other daemon with tiny claws.
Bobby never had any kids of his own, never even entertained the thought after Karen died, but that doesn’t mean the idea never crossed his mind. Still, even he can acknowledge just by looking at them that these boys are trouble.
“Didn’t tell me you had kids, Winchester,” Bobby mutters, raising an eyebrow. He wonders why Harvelle, of all people, failed to mention that detail; Ellen must have pitched a bitch when she found out they were out on the road with him.
Brynn twitches her nose but doesn’t say a word.
“Didn’t think it was worth mentioning,” John grumbles; Delilah’s tail lashes back and forth.
Bobby shares a glance with Brynn, who lifts one flopping ear as she hops around his ankles and back into the house.
He sighs, pushing the door the rest of the way open. “Come on in.”
Bobby gestures to the study with the jut of his chin as John makes swift introductions, quickly pointing to each of his boys and their daemons in turn before settling them down. He mumbles something to Dean, holding out a child-sized backpack.
Dean nods, grumbles something that sounds shockingly like, “Yessir,” and settles on the couch with the bag between his crossed legs.
Sam scrambles up onto Bobby’s chair while his daddy’s back is turned, and the leather creaks under his small, sneakered feet. He leans his head on folded arms on the edge of the desk. His daemon, Astrid, sits in the crook of his elbow, tiny mouse ears flicking towards the ceiling. Both of them stare at Brynn so hard their eyes cross. Bobby chokes back a laugh when Brynn twitches her nose and Sam attempts to copy the motion but only succeeds in looking like he needs to sneeze.
“Don’t stand on the chair, Sammy,” John says gruffly, and Sam pouts but still wiggles his way down. He pulls gently on John’s pants leg as his father sits in the chair he just vacated.
“Bunny!” Sam says excitedly, pointing at Brynn. Astrid shifts into a small, brown rabbit, sniffing at Brynn, who noses at her neck.
“Hare,” Brynn says sagely, and Sam tugs on his hair, tongue twisting a little on the ending as he repeats the word. He giggles, and Astrid hops into his arms.
“Come on, Sammy,” Dean says quietly from the doorway, holding out one hand; the other clutches his backpack by one of the straps. Sam immediately reaches out, fingers twining around Dean’s as the older boy pulls him out of the room, bag dragging on the floor behind them. Dean’s daemon, Saskia, shifts into a coyote, loping around Dean’s legs.
“Some well-behaved kids you got there,” Bobby says slowly, turning his attention back to John.
To his surprise, Winchester snorts. “You’ve never driven more than twenty minutes with them.” He gestures to the books on Bobby’s desk, all business. “That them?”
The next few hours are spent in relative silence beyond the turning of old, crackling pages and John scratching notes every so often into a worn, leather journal he pulls from his pack.
Bobby lifts his head at the sound of laughter from the yard and stands up under the guise of getting another cup of coffee. He gestures to John’s empty mug; John grunts, nudging the cup towards Bobby without ever looking up from his notes.
Bobby rolls his eyes, taking both mugs to the kitchen. He glances out back, through the windows over the sink, and watches as Saskia shifts into a border collie, chasing Astrid around the yard. Astrid becomes a ferret in that swift way only small children’s daemons can, clawing up Sam’s leg to wrap around his neck, peeking her grey head out from under his chin.
Rumsfeld barks at all of them from the porch but doesn’t move, settling down with his head on his paws.
Bobby shakes his head with amusement, then re-fills both mugs and sits back down at the table, looking at John out of the corner of his eye.
He clears his throat, turning a page in his book. “Can’t be easy. Travelin’ with two little ones like that.”
John takes a long, slow drink of his coffee, glancing up just long enough to settle him with a long, hard stare.
“It ain’t,” Delilah growls, lifting her head from where she lies on the floor. Brynn opens one eye on the edge of the desk, blinks at Delilah, then goes back to dozing.
--
Dean and his father eat Bobby out of house and home that night, second helpings turning into thirds, while Sam picks at everything on his plate except the mashed potatoes. Dean scoops the rest of his potatoes onto his brother’s plate, while somehow managing to continue shoveling food into his mouth.
Sam grins, and Dean glances at John before quickly throwing a handful of peas at his brother. When Astrid catches them in her mouth, Saskia shifts from wolf pup to owl, wrestling Astrid, hawk-shaped, to the floor. Bobby chuckles at their antics, and Brynn smiles, warm and fond with a wary edge that matches the questionable weight settling into the pit of his stomach.
“Boys,” John says, a single-word warning, and the two daemons shake away from each other in a ball of ruffled feathers.
After dinner, John continues researching while the boys play at the other end of the room with a set of battered, green army men Dean digs out of his backpack. They whisper and giggle quietly while their daemons lay quietly on the floor between them.
A sudden silence makes Bobby lift his head. The two boys are sacked out on the floor, army men scattered around them. Sam’s face is pressed into Dean’s armpit, and the older kid is on his back, out like a light.
Bobby smiles at the sight until Brynn whispers, “Bobby,” close to his ear, halfway between awe and terror, and that’s when Bobby notices their daemons.
Astrid and Saskia are pressed against both boys, one between, the other on their feet, shifted into the same puppy shade and shape, so Bobby doesn’t know where one ends and the other begins. A voice in the back of his mind whispers that this is wrong, it shouldn’t be allowed. No one touches another person’s daemon - ever. You don’t go around touching someone else’s soul.
Brynn winds her way into his lap and presses her head into his hand, seeking comfort in a way she rarely, if ever, does. Bobby tears his eyes away from the brothers and stares at John, who grasps the arms of his chair with white-knuckled hands. Delilah’s hackles stand on end, anxious and wound up tight in a way she hasn’t fully expressed since they arrived. Both of them stare at him, silent, stubborn and defiant, under that, scared - but not even a little bit shocked. They’ve seen this before.
Bobby knots his hand tightly in Brynn’s fur, troubled, but he doesn’t say a word.
--
In the morning, John tells Bobby they’re heading out, and Bobby would be lying if he said he didn’t feel relieved.
Brynn keeps close all through breakfast, tripping Bobby up every time he moves his feet. She noses at his ankle when Sam skids into the kitchen, tripping over his shoes. Dean presses a hand down on his shoulder, crouching down to tie his laces.
Sam smiles, and Astrid runs circles around them, chasing after Saskia, both of them still identical. Bobby breathes a little easier when Saskia finally shifts from puppy to eagle, soaring just above their heads before all four of them tumble out the back door.
John grunts. “Thanks for the help,” he says stiffly, and Bobby nods, shaking his hand until Sam runs directly between them, giggling.
Dean runs after him, carefully, so he doesn’t step on Astrid’s tail. He tugs on Sam’s shirt until he turns around. “Say bye, Sam,” he says quietly.
Sam waves his hand wildly, yells, “Bye!” and Dean rolls his eyes, shuffling his brother into the car in that long-suffering way only a sibling could manage.
John stares at his boys for a long moment before subtly shaking himself. Delilah doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even look back as she settles onto the passenger seat, and Bobby watches the Impala as the engine turns over and it rolls down the path and out of sight.
“Well,” Brynn says quietly, the rumble of the car long gone.
Bobby takes off his hat so he can rub a hand through the hair at the back of his head.
“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows better than to think this will be the last time he ever sees the Winchesters. He scoops Brynn into his arms, settles his cap back on, and slowly shuffles back inside of the house.