Honey-Trapped 11/?
A/N I'm sorry, I had to skip last week's update. Real life is taking a toll on me right now. However, I've just finished my latest gen story so my Saturday slot is free at the moment. So for now, updates every Saturday.
Chapter 11
"What the hell did you do to my kitchen?" Dean had found his way downstairs, still in his sweatpants and sleep-crumbled t-shirt, and he had murder in eyes.
Sam slipped deeper into his chair and Bobby half-expected him to crawl under the table.
"I wanted to make Bobby a nice breakfast?" He said meekly.
"You told the fire department to bring donuts?" Dean waved around in the still smoke heavy air and coughed into his fist which sounded only half fake. Then he turned on his heel to take in the rest of his kitchen.
Sam hurried to pour him a coffee as a peace offering. Dean took the cup and then sat down at the table with a heavy sigh.
"I'll clean it up." Sam promised.
"You've done enough damage." Dean glared at Sam over the rim of his coffee. "You're banned from the kitchen. For life!"
Sam didn't argue and just slumped back down in his chair. Bobby fought the urge to tell Dean to not go too hard on Sam, the boy only had tried to do something nice for his boyfriend's disgruntled father figure.
"What did you try to do anyway?" Dean had another look around, frowning at the pan in the sink and the splatters of batter and oil on the counter, the wall and everywhere else. There was even some of it in Sam's hair.
"Pancakes?" Sam answered. He didn't sound sure at all that that was what he'd tried to accomplish and for some reason Bobby was suddenly very glad that the pancakes hadn't panned out. "But then we switched to cereal."
"I wonder why." Dean sighed but let it be.
Bobby had expected more of a fight, Dean should be livid by now but this morning he was the one looking tired and exhausted.
Sam gave Dean a shy smile and then made a show of checking the time.
"I have to hurry, Benny wants me to come in and give a statement." He stood up in a haste, the legs of his chair scratching over the floor, making Dean wince. Then he leaned over and gave Dean a quick kiss on the cheek and Bobby was pretty sure he heard him mumble: "I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you later."
Sam hurried up the stairs to get dressed and Bobby almost called after him to remind him to wash his hair before he gave his statement to the police with pancake batter in his hair.
Sam left not much later in a clean suit and still wet hair. At least he didn't look like he'd fought and lost in a high school cafeteria fight anymore.
The whole time Bobby and Dean sat in silence in the destroyed kitchen, nursing their coffees.
"You okay?" Bobby asked when Dean just sat there with his coffee almost untouched in front of him. Usually he would be up to his second or third cup by now. He was too pale for Bobby's liking and he had to rest his chin in his hand to keep himself from face-planting on the table.
"Just tired." Dean admitted and blinked his eyes open. It lasted for about three seconds.
"You look sick, boy." Bobby observed and fought the urge to feel Dean's forehead. He looked like he had a fever with his pale face, dark smudges under his eyes and pink blotches high on his cheeks. Now, after his outrage had died down, he was visibly shivering and covered in a thin layer of sweat.
"I'm fine." Dean insisted but didn't put much effort in convincing Bobby of that fact.
"Sure you are." Bobby huffed in amusement. "Why don't you go back to bed and sleep for a couple of hours? You look like you need it."
Dean didn't answer for a moment and Bobby wondered if he'd fallen asleep at the table.
"Can't." Dean finally managed to say. He straightened up which took much more effort than it should have. "I have to clean up this mess." He waved his hand around the kitchen. "I have a car I need to finish today and there is stuff I need to prepare for that stupid open door thing Sam wants to do so badly. Besides." He gave him a watery smile. "I can't just leave you on your own. You're my guest."
The only urgent thing on his list was the car and Bobby doubted that it had to be done on the weekend.
"I'll clean up the kitchen and you go back to bed." Bobby decided and to his surprise Dean muttered a protest under his breath but hauled his ass out off the chair without a real fight.
He had to promise that he would wake him in an hour, which Bobby didn't intend to do, and then Dean slowly made his way upstairs.
Bobby watched him until the bedroom door closed behind him.
"Should have stayed in bed in the first place." Bobby grumbled. Dean had been fine last night so he hoped that this was some kind of twenty-four hour bug which Dean just needed to sleep off.
Alone once again Bobby went to work. He dumped the leftover batter in the garbage and rinsed the bowl before he put it and all the other stuff Sam had used in the dish washer. Then he let the pan soak in the sink while he cleaned the counter and every surface near by.
Even the toy car on the fridge hadn't been safe. He carefully cleaned it up and then went to see if the pan was salvageable. If not Dean could just build another car out of it.
When everything was clean and in order again, even the pan, Bobby dried his hands with a satisfied look around.
With not much else to do he got his book and made himself comfortable on the couch. However, he couldn't focus on what he was reading and so he stared blankly at the page, thinking about what had happened earlier.
Bobby had seen it over the last few days but the pancake incident had made it pretty clear. Dean wasn't afraid of Sam. He had no qualms chewing Sam's ass out and Sam didn't react like Bobby would have expected. Sam didn't react with aggression like John would have.
Sam hadn't told Dean that it wouldn't have happened if Dean had been up early enough to make breakfast for them. Sam hadn't twisted it around until it was all Dean's fault. He had taken the blame he deserved and had even offered to clean up his mess.
But most of all, Bobby didn't get the impression that his was an act for his benefit and that things were different when Dean was alone with Sam.
Bobby had come here with the intention to hate Sam. He knew what Sam had done to Dean and that was more than enough reason to hate him but the Sam he got to know now was completely different. It was hard to not like this man. Bobby had almost felt sorry for him earlier.
When Sam came back around noon, Bobby had found his way into his book and Dean was still sleeping.
Sam stepped out of the elevator, tie loosened, the top button of his shirt open and frustration in every step he made.
"Thought they just wanted your statement." Bobby put his book away while Sam sat down in the chair next to him.
"Since Benny is involved in this, he can't take my statement." Sam said. "And the officer I talked to got the stupid idea that I knew the victim."
"Why would he think that?"
"Apparently the guy she murdered swung both ways." Sam let out a sigh, elbows resting on his knees. "And since I used to be a regular in the scene I have to know him? I didn't get the memo but apparently all not straight people know each other and had sex with each other." He snorted.
"As long as he doesn't accuse you of murdering the poor guy." Bobby shook his head and didn't hold back the fond smile.
"He was smart enough to not outright say stuff that could get him in trouble." Sam almost sounded disappointed. He was a lawyer, destroying bigoted police officers probably counted as fun for him.
"Where is Dean?" Only now Sam had a real look around. "I didn't see him downstairs."
"Sleeping." Bobby answered. "He didn't feel well, got a stomach bug or something."
"Stomach bug?" Sam stared at him as if that was the most alien thought he'd ever heard. But then something like understanding dawned on his face. "Oh … oh. Shit."
"What?" Alarmed Bobby sat up straighter, pinning Sam down with a stare.
"It's nothing." He hurried to say which was a lie, that much was clear.
"Sam." Bobby raised his voice. "What is with Dean?"
"It's nothing." He repeated and this time it didn't sound like that much of a lie anymore. "He just has so much on his mind right now. His business, the upcoming open door day, your visit." He paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "Look, Dean doesn't have many people in his life and he really wants us to get along. I get that you don't trust me and you have good reasons for that, I know and Dean knows that as well, but it's really eating at him."
Bobby had to look away. He knew that the situation wasn't easy for Dean. The more he got to know Sam the more he liked the other man but he couldn't just ignore what Sam had done.
"Besides." Sam added almost sheepishly. "He didn't have a good night's sleep in a while."
Bobby didn't dare to ask if he was referring to the nightmares or the marathon sex they seemed to have on a regular basis so he kept his mouth shut and just nodded to that.
"What?" Bobby asked when he noticed Sam itching on the edge of his seat, throwing glances in the direction of the bedroom and at the freshly cleaned kitchen.
"Did he eat something?"
"Just coffee." Bobby answered and couldn't even recall if Dean had sugar or not.
"He needs something to regain some energy."
"Just let him sleep it off." Bobby held him back when Sam wanted to get up. "He can eat when he wakes up on his own."
"He had this before." Sam said in a way that didn't felt like a lie but not like the entire truth either. "He'll recover faster with something in his stomach."
"It's your head he'll bite off if you wake him up." Bobby raised his hands in defeat. He'd dealt with a sick or hungover Dean often enough to know that Sam should be glad for every minute Dean stayed asleep. But if he wanted to poke the bear, it was Sam who'd have to deal with the poked bear.
"You're not thinking about cooking him something, aren't you?"
"What?" Sam teared his eyes off the kitchen. "No."
In the end Sam put together a tray with sandwiches, orange juice and a few cookies. The closest he came to cooking was fixing a mug of instant broth and he didn't set the kitchen on fire when he heated the water.
"You sure he's up for this much?" Bobby eyed the tray but didn't stop Sam when he added buttered toast for the broth.
"Trust me, Dean needs some calories right now." Sam gave him a little smile, almost begging him to trust him on this.
Bobby didn't see a reason not to, the worst that could happen was that Dean would kick Sam out, telling him where he could stick his sandwiches. Which would probably be fun to watch.
Maybe, Bobby thought while he watched Sam making his way up the stairs with his packed tray, maybe it's time for a little trust.
Chapter 12
Masterpost