Young Bobby Drabble
Title: Untitled Bobby Drabble
Author: Capricorn86
Characters: Bobby Singer, Bobby`s father, Bobby`s mother
Summary: Drabble based on the memory from Bobby`s childhood (season 7, episode 10)
Warning: Contains spanking of a minor (belt)
Author`s Note: Felt inspired after watching the newest episode.
As Bobby reached out to pass his old man the potatoes, his skinny arm, bare up to his elbow and sporting a fresh, healthy tan, knocked over the glass of milk standing next to his plate. Bobby watched, frozen and filled with silent horror as the glass fell to the floor and smashed against the tiles. What rotten luck, and how stupid and clumsy he felt, and how angry he was at the glass for being so fragile and the floor for being so hard. For a second that seemed to last a hundred years, Bobby watched the white liquid spread on the kitchen floor, and his heart fell down into his stomach as he pulled his gaze away and set his eyes on the man sitting across the table.
His mother was in the room too, but Bobby hardly noticed her. He hardly saw her, for she blended so well with the wallpaper and furniture, like she was camouflaging herself, trying to make herself as small, insignificant and unnoticeable as possible. But it never worked. Not really. She was only fooling herself.
Bobby heard his mothers voice, but it was coming from far away, and it didn`t matter anyway. Nothing she had ever said had stopped her husband from getting mad.
Bobby knew what was coming, he could see it in the eyes of his father and the way his jaw clenched and his hand twitched. And then they were on their feet, Bobby and his dad. Bobby mumbled something, tried to apologize for his unforgivable crime of breaking the glass and soiling the floor with the milk, but it was too late. His father was already angry, already provoked, and words would never do anything to stop him.
Bobby hardly had time to move before his dad`s hands were reaching down and unbuckling his belt, sliding it fast and forcefully out of the loops. Bobby was scared, but that was nothing new. He felt scared of his father every single day.
Bobby felt his father grab him by the neck and hold him in place, pressing him up against the kitchen counter before raising his hand and bringing the belt down.
One.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Two.
“You break everything you touch!”
Three.
“You have no respect!”
Four.
“I am your father, and I demand respect, you got that?”
Five.
Bobby gave up trying to keep count, and instead tried to focus on the sound of his mothers voice. He could hear her in the distance, calling out helplessly from somewhere in the room, telling Bobby it was his fault for provoking his father. But Bobby couldn`t see her, though his eyes hunted for her hungrily. She was trying too hard at hiding tonight.
Finally the belt stopped biting his backside, and Bobby`s father released his grip on him. Bobby stepped away from the counter, feeling something wet trickling down his face.
“Don`t you stand there and cry, I didn`t hit you that hard! Now you get out of my sight. Get to bed now and don`t show yourself again until tomorrow, or I`ll let you have it with the end that has the buckle. You disgust me.”
Bobby turned around and fled from the kitchen. He ran upstairs and escaped to the privacy of his bedroom. It may have been private, but it wasn`t safe. Any minute there could be heavy steps on the stairs and a large hand pushing down the handle, and a large, scary figure in the doorway. Any minute Bobby`s dad could decide his son deserved more of his belt.
Bobby lay on his bed. He shivered, feeling frozen to the bone even though it was the middle of summer, and he was hungry because he hadn`t had time to eat anything. He laid there, tears trickling down on his pillow, and he hated his father and hated his mother for loving him.
Author: Capricorn86
Characters: Bobby Singer, Bobby`s father, Bobby`s mother
Summary: Drabble based on the memory from Bobby`s childhood (season 7, episode 10)
Warning: Contains spanking of a minor (belt)
Author`s Note: Felt inspired after watching the newest episode.
As Bobby reached out to pass his old man the potatoes, his skinny arm, bare up to his elbow and sporting a fresh, healthy tan, knocked over the glass of milk standing next to his plate. Bobby watched, frozen and filled with silent horror as the glass fell to the floor and smashed against the tiles. What rotten luck, and how stupid and clumsy he felt, and how angry he was at the glass for being so fragile and the floor for being so hard. For a second that seemed to last a hundred years, Bobby watched the white liquid spread on the kitchen floor, and his heart fell down into his stomach as he pulled his gaze away and set his eyes on the man sitting across the table.
His mother was in the room too, but Bobby hardly noticed her. He hardly saw her, for she blended so well with the wallpaper and furniture, like she was camouflaging herself, trying to make herself as small, insignificant and unnoticeable as possible. But it never worked. Not really. She was only fooling herself.
Bobby heard his mothers voice, but it was coming from far away, and it didn`t matter anyway. Nothing she had ever said had stopped her husband from getting mad.
Bobby knew what was coming, he could see it in the eyes of his father and the way his jaw clenched and his hand twitched. And then they were on their feet, Bobby and his dad. Bobby mumbled something, tried to apologize for his unforgivable crime of breaking the glass and soiling the floor with the milk, but it was too late. His father was already angry, already provoked, and words would never do anything to stop him.
Bobby hardly had time to move before his dad`s hands were reaching down and unbuckling his belt, sliding it fast and forcefully out of the loops. Bobby was scared, but that was nothing new. He felt scared of his father every single day.
Bobby felt his father grab him by the neck and hold him in place, pressing him up against the kitchen counter before raising his hand and bringing the belt down.
One.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Two.
“You break everything you touch!”
Three.
“You have no respect!”
Four.
“I am your father, and I demand respect, you got that?”
Five.
Bobby gave up trying to keep count, and instead tried to focus on the sound of his mothers voice. He could hear her in the distance, calling out helplessly from somewhere in the room, telling Bobby it was his fault for provoking his father. But Bobby couldn`t see her, though his eyes hunted for her hungrily. She was trying too hard at hiding tonight.
Finally the belt stopped biting his backside, and Bobby`s father released his grip on him. Bobby stepped away from the counter, feeling something wet trickling down his face.
“Don`t you stand there and cry, I didn`t hit you that hard! Now you get out of my sight. Get to bed now and don`t show yourself again until tomorrow, or I`ll let you have it with the end that has the buckle. You disgust me.”
Bobby turned around and fled from the kitchen. He ran upstairs and escaped to the privacy of his bedroom. It may have been private, but it wasn`t safe. Any minute there could be heavy steps on the stairs and a large hand pushing down the handle, and a large, scary figure in the doorway. Any minute Bobby`s dad could decide his son deserved more of his belt.
Bobby lay on his bed. He shivered, feeling frozen to the bone even though it was the middle of summer, and he was hungry because he hadn`t had time to eat anything. He laid there, tears trickling down on his pillow, and he hated his father and hated his mother for loving him.