The Sound of One Hand Clapping Pt 1b FRT John/Bobby
John stood in the diner parking lot watching as Bobby and the boys discussed where they were going next. For the moment there was no pending hunt, nothing pulling them in any one direction and they decided to head back to Minnesota with Bobby and John going on to Durham for a while.
It was a six hour drive, and by the time that the truck turned the bend in the road to Jim Murphy’s place John was more than ready to stretch his legs for a while. He leaned over rubbing his back and Bobby smiled at him.
“You okay baby?”
This constant ‘baby’ thing was really beginning to get to him, but John bit his lip holding in a retort. Just because John had never been one to use pet names for Mary or anyone else, for that matter, he couldn’t expect the entire world to follow his lead. It was thinking like that that had landed John in this place and he wasn’t going to fall into the same trap again.
The Impala made a slow arc around the final bend in the driveway and pulled to a halt beside Jim’s sedan. Bobby pulled the truck up parking beside the older car and John pushed the door open. Just as he got out the door to the house flew open and a figure appeared on the front porch. John felt his stomach clench, grasping the door handle hard enough to cut his fingers. He closed the door quietly rounding the front end of the truck before he couldn’t go on.
John stumbled to a halt, looking at the woman standing on the front porch of Jim Murphy's parsonage. His heart thudded in his chest and he felt a slow trickle of sweat slide down his spine. He wanted to run, to shout, to do anything but stand there watching as she lifted her arms up to take her boys into a hug.
Sam and Dean huddled around their mother pressing quick kisses on her temple. And she laughed, the deep throated sound that sent a thrill coursing down John's back. Mary was relieved, the same relief that he has always felt when the boys came back from a hunt alive and unscathed. Maybe she was a better parent because the relief was so evident on her face or maybe she had never had to learn to conceal her own fear so that her sons would be fearless. John felt a brief flash of jealousy at the open affection the boys poured on her. But he swallowed it and pressed close to Bobby.
The older man wrapped an arm around his waist and propelled John to the porch. Mary smiled at them both offering first John then Bobby a quick, little peck on the cheek. From inside the house John could hear Jim's voice raised in surprise at seeing his sons home early. He rose looking so much like the Jim who was dead and buried back 'home' that John had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment.
Bobby noticed John's discomfort and quickly patted his back. John felt an irrational surge of anger, and wished that the older man wasn't so attuned to his every emotion, wasn't so attentive regarding John's well-being. But that was wrong, this Bobby was only doing what he did, only behaving in a way that he had always done. And John didn't have the right to expect Bobby to treat him any differently just because he was not the same man this Bobby had loved and married.
They settled in the small living room, the boys seated on stools in front of the bar that separated the kitchen and the living area. Mary settled on the sofa and John sat down in a large arm chair, away from her. It hurt to look at her now, the pain just as fresh as it had been the day she died. But this Mary, Jim's Mary was alive, laughing at some silly remark Dean made and John hated her for it for a brief moment.
Bobby shuffled past his chair blocking John's view of Mary's bright shining face then thumped down on the floor between John's spread legs, grasping one of his knees in each hand. Leaning back the older man settled against John. He found himself absently rubbing Bobby's shoulders.
They talked and laughed for a while, John following along with the conversations as best he could. It was odd hearing conversations about people that he knew, but didn't know. After a while John tuned it out, focusing instead on trying to make these people believe that he was their John.
After a while he shifted uncomfortably in the chair then glanced down the hall at the bathroom door. Sighing he patted Bobby on the back getting the other man to relinquish his seat on the floor so that John could stand up. Bobby shifted patting John's ass as he passed. The others laughed.
He padded down the hall to the bathroom. When he was finished relieving himself John stood looking out of the window for a few minutes. The church was a solid white presence across the yard, sturdy and inviting, a true sanctuary. John wondered what had drawn Mary to Jim. Why she had married the Pastor instead of him, or more precisely why had John married Bobby instead of her.
He could hear voices in the kitchen as he walked back to the living room, and without an ounce of guilt he slid into the shadows listening as Jim and Mary worked together getting dinner made for the small group. Jim's voice was smooth, soothing, but Mary sounded miffed. John grinned, he could just imagine the furrowed brows and wrinkled nose. He had been a victim of Mary's 'pissed-off' face too many times to count. He wondered how Jim was faring against her, probably no better than John had himself.
"Jim, I don’t want the boys hunting anymore. I know they chose to do it, and I trust Bobby but it’s so dangerous. I think Sam should go on to college like he wanted. I wish one of the boys was magically inclined then maybe John could write a letter and get him into the Academy."
"But neither one of them are gifted. You have to be born with it, magic is intrinsic not an acquired skill."
"I know, but if they're going to hunt, at least one of them would be behind the lines casting spells. I know it's harder but less dangerous."
"It's just as dangerous, the person casting spells is actually more at risk if the hunters aren't quick. John pulls his weight in the business. I don't know why you two have never gotten along."
Mary sighed and John cringed, desperately waiting for her answer.
"He's always been just a little hard to deal with. I don't know, but I think the magic part scares me. He's a little too close to the other side. Beside Bobby caters to his every whim."
"That's none of our business. Let Bobby handle his own marriage. I've seen him put his foot down with John a time or two."
Mary's laughter was every bit as enchanting as John remembered. He felt it all the way to the pit of his stomach.
"Oh please…Bobby spoils John rotten and we all know it."
John cringed, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. Well, his grandmother had always warned him not to listen to other people's conversations if he wasn't going to like what he heard. So he had a bit of a reputation as a brat. At least now he knew what was expected of him, and Bobby did cave into to John at every opportunity. The Bobby Singer he had known wasn't like that, but then John wasn't a Prima Donna either. Sighing, he trudged back to the living room and sat down.
The house was quiet and John wished that Bobby had not been willing to stay the night before leaving for Durham. He lay still listening to the night sounds from outside the building. One of the things that John loved about the country was the peace, not the silence because the countryside was filled with noise even at night. But the sounds were natural, normal and not the harsh artificial sounds of the city at night.
He could hear the whispered voices of the other people in the house as well. Mary’s lyrical voice and the gentle laughter of the boys as they got ready for bed, still sharing the same room they had grown up in. A far different life for not so very different young men. John flinched when Bobby snorted and rolled over bare leg brushing John’s thigh. Flushing he wondered if the sound from this bedroom had carried as clearly to the room shared by Dean and Sam, wondered if the boys had heard him and Bobby making love earlier.
No one seemed at all troubled by the fact that he and Bobby were married, considered it as normal as hunting or John’s use of magic. But John kept reminding himself, this was a different world. Vaguely he felt uneasy wondering what had happened to the soul of the man he had replaced. Had this John gone to hell in his place? He didn’t want that, didn’t want anyone else’s blood on his hands. God knew he had had enough of it as it was.
Bobby was warm, half-sprawled over him and John shuffled around prodding the other man in the ribs with an elbow. The older man wasn’t ticklish like John but he grunted once and rolled over freeing John to move. With a sigh he drifted off to sleep. And faint shimmering halo played around the corner of his vision even though John’s eyes were closed, and he realized that in this half-awake twilight state he was having a vision. He wondered what it would be like to have one fully awake. The sensation was disquieting, to say the least.
John sighed feeling the mattress at his back. Suddenly a sharp pain lanced up his left arm
spreading into his chest. He felt the numbing white hot bolt flashed up his am, cramping his jaw. John struggled to rise from the bed to call out but his body wouldn’t respond. Vision dimming, John collapsed back on the be, feeling darkness creeping in on him.
Groaning John struggled upright in this bed. So he hadn’t pushed this John Winchester out of his body. The spirit of this man had left of its own accord. This John had died of a heart attack and when his spirit left his body in his own dimension John had been brought here. In a way that made this easier for him, John hadn’t outright murdered the man he replaced. At least Bobby hadn’t come back to the room and found his spouse dead.
They were seated at the table with Jim and his family when Jim brought up the idea that John and Bobby stay with them for another week, for the church's centennial celebration and July the 4th. John tried to gauge Bobby's feelings by studying the older man's face. He hated the idea of staying; being around Mary alive and happy without him was slowly killing John. But he also loathed the idea of giving up any time with Sam and Dean even if they were not his sons. John sighed, he just couldn't win and yet what could he say to Bobby. These were his friends, long time friends if the conversation was anything to go by, John's as well. But he was an outsider here now.
Bobby shrugged giving John a sideways glance.
"Well, the boys and me might pick up another hunt if an emergency comes up, but I don't mind. How 'bout you, baby?"
John flinched; he was beginning to hate that word. With a grunt John shrugged.
"I don't mind."
Bobby shot him a look that had 'Don't be a whiny little bitch' written all over it and John managed not to smack him as he rose from the table and trotted down the hall to the bedroom. His hand was shaking as he closed the door. Taking a deep breath he slid down the wall until he settled on the floor with his back to the bed. His head was aching slightly and he felt disorientated.
Grimacing John tugged his duffle bag over and searched inside for a bottle of aspirin. A clear plastic test-tube filled with blue crystals fell out of a rolled up shirt and he picked it up. The crystals were about the size of rock salt, mostly uniform and deep indigo blue in color. Casting a glance over his shoulder at the door John pulled the cork stopper out of the tube and shook one of them into his hand.
He rolled the test-tube in his other hand. There was no label on it, no note or written instructions in the shirt, but John had seen enough bags and bottles of illicit drugs palmed in dingy bars to know that he didn't have a prescription for this, whatever it was.
Some of the color leeched out of the small ragged crystal tinting John's palm, he lifted his hand sniffing experimentally. The rock itself smelled sweet, sugary and he thought that maybe the base was just large unprocessed sugar crystals. That would mean the drug was the blue liquid bleeding onto his skin. He was sure that this John had used this substance, illegal or otherwise, and maybe that was what had caused his heart attack. But when John had moved into this body the craving for the drug had gone, just as all the damage it had caused was healed.
Still curiosity got the better of him and John dropped the crystal back into the tube licking at the minute trace of blue substance on his palm. His head whirled, but the disorientation went away immediately. Whatever the hell it was it was strong. And he had been addicted to it.
The drug worked its way through his system quickly and just the tiny taste he' d taken left John wanting more. He pulled the stopper and shook one of the crystals into his palm again. Suddenly there was a flurry of sound and movement behind him and Bobby's angry face swam into view. John winced as the older man grabbed his wrist shaking the crystal out of John's hand. With an angry snort John jerked his arm away and Bobby slapped him across the face.
His eyes widened and John dropped the test-tube clapping his hand to his cheek. The skin was warm and sensitive under his palm.
Bobby was furious.
"You told me you weren't using anymore, John."
"I didn't…I wasn't going to. I mean, you hit me…"
"I'm not going to end up in the emergency room watching them shove a tube down your throat again. I'll have you committed this time."
Dropping to his knees Bobby grabbed John by both elbows; the younger man tried to wriggle away then glanced at the door. He was horrified to see Sam and Dean standing in the hallway with Jim behind. Apparently the others had heard Bobby's outburst. They were staring at the men seated on the floor.
"I mean it John. I'll put you in rehab. God, baby, you know what happens to a psychic who uses that stuff. I won't see you end up that way." Bobby rose unsteadily pacing a few steps away from the bed. "How much did you take?"
Jim frowned pulling out his cell phone.
"Bobby, do I need to call 911?"
John hauled himself to his feet flushed and angry.
"No Jim you don't. I didn't take it. Bobby came in before I could. I just…I'm sorry."
With a frown Bobby caught John by the arm jerking him around, John uttered an abbreviated shout and across the room he could see Dean tense, taking a step forward. But Jim caught his son by the shoulder and Dean pulled to a halt. Bobby dropped his hand away from John's arm, and then shot the others a look.
"I'm sorry folks. I just got a little shook up. I'm not going to hurt him. Dean can just settle down."
Shakily John rose to his feet, casting a shamed glance at the test-tube Bobby had cradled in his palm. The older man looked pale-faced, all the anger bleeding out of him as he shuddered and sighed.
Mary was standing in the hall beside her husband, cheeks wet with tears. She offered John a pity filled gaze and elbowed past the three men crowding the doorway. With a glare at Bobby, Mary hustled John out of the room and into the kitchen. He wanted to throw his arms around her, wanted to kiss her and pull her close to him, but he couldn't. A sharp pain lanced through his chest and he drew in one shivering breath letting it go in a deep moan.
She looked at him with a soft sweet smile playing on her lips. John shuddered again.
"Mary…"
"Shhh, John its okay. Sometimes they just don't understand."
John was vaguely annoyed when he realized that she meant men, but somehow the rebuke that he was a man too wouldn't come out. He nodded fingers touching the bruised spot on is cheek.
"Bobby hit me." he said numbly.
Mary sighed pulling the freezer door open she fished a couple of ice cubes out of the box and wrapped them in a paper towel. John took it pressing it against his cheek even though the pain had faded and he had long ago dismissed it. Cocking his head John took a deep breath.
"Why didn’t' we get married? When we were younger?"
Mary smiled glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. "Well, discounting the fact that you're gay?"
John smiled.
"Yeah, there is that, but seriously we grew up together. Did you ever think about it?"
"John don't do this. You know it would have never worked. You know my father didn't approve of the magic thing. He didn't trust it. Besides Bobby would have killed anyone who looked twice at you. And your father…you know all that about the Academy and well, keeping you…uhmm,"
She blushed and John felt his cheeks going warm as well. There was something there, something she wasn't telling him.
"Keeping me?" he prompted.
Mary shook her head.
"You know, your father watched you like a hawk to make sure you were a virgin until you were accepted in the Academy. You know they wouldn't take anyone who wasn't a virgin, back then. He wouldn't even let you and Bobby get married until you were eighteen."
John nodded that did explain a lot. There were certain incantations that couldn't be performed by someone who was not a virgin. And a virgin's blood had power, it was inviolable. But he had married Bobby so something changed. Maybe after a certain time period that particular aspect of a magic user didn't matter any more.
Pouring him a cup of tea Mary set it down on the table then she helped herself to a cup as well. She settled down in a chair sipping at the warm liquid. John swallowed the tea and looked at her. She was just as beautiful as he remembered even with the thin threads of gray in her hair, and the fine lines around her eyes. He closed his eyes. Mary looked up as voices sounded in the hall.
"Looks like the men are all settled down."
"Mary, I may be gay but I'm a man too."
"I know it's just… I'm sorry we were never better friends John. You and Bobby have been good to the boys. I appreciate the fact that you keep my sons safe, even indirectly."
"I'm glad to do it, Mary."
TBC