A return home
It's been a hellish month on everyone.
No, screw that. It's been a rough time for a lot longer than that. If Bobby had to put his finger on it, he'd say that the latest crapfest started the day that Dean called him around 2am, frantic and in the car telling him that Sam had been chewed on by a werewolf. Everyone converged on the house and every day he'd face pleading green eyes. Begging him to find some way to save Sam because Dean just didn't have it in him to shoot his baby brother.
So they tried. Pulled out all the stops. Dragged in every favor they could and waited it out. And somewhere along the line, the kid pulled himself back. Got control over the wolf to the point he was walking the house freely.
Fast forward and they're running through the same goddamn thing again. Second verse, same as the first.
Only now it's more complicated. They've pulled Rhys back from the edge thanks to a boneheaded ass stunt on Sam's part and it'd take a blind and deaf man not to notice that things have changed between them. Because it wouldn't be their lives if it didn't find some way to get more complicated.
Beer in hand, he ambled out to the porch, considering the young man sitting on the stairs and watching the stars while Sam made a few phone calls. Tuck, Ellen, they were finally coming home.
"Y'all right, kid?"
No, screw that. It's been a rough time for a lot longer than that. If Bobby had to put his finger on it, he'd say that the latest crapfest started the day that Dean called him around 2am, frantic and in the car telling him that Sam had been chewed on by a werewolf. Everyone converged on the house and every day he'd face pleading green eyes. Begging him to find some way to save Sam because Dean just didn't have it in him to shoot his baby brother.
So they tried. Pulled out all the stops. Dragged in every favor they could and waited it out. And somewhere along the line, the kid pulled himself back. Got control over the wolf to the point he was walking the house freely.
Fast forward and they're running through the same goddamn thing again. Second verse, same as the first.
Only now it's more complicated. They've pulled Rhys back from the edge thanks to a boneheaded ass stunt on Sam's part and it'd take a blind and deaf man not to notice that things have changed between them. Because it wouldn't be their lives if it didn't find some way to get more complicated.
Beer in hand, he ambled out to the porch, considering the young man sitting on the stairs and watching the stars while Sam made a few phone calls. Tuck, Ellen, they were finally coming home.
"Y'all right, kid?"