Guess what day it is? Comment-fic day!
Once again, it's everyone's favourite day in Supernatural: May 2nd! You know what that means, right? Time to hurt Sam! ;)
You know the drill, right? Allow me to post a refresher:
( Read more... )
You know the drill, right? Allow me to post a refresher:
( Read more... )
Part One:
Bobby always wanted kids.
He remembers right before Karen....Bobby takes a moment to swallow down the grief that threatens to choke him. The air is a little nippy as he sits outside on his front porch watching as the sun disappears from the sky. When he feels like his heart won't stop if he even thinks about her, he continues. Before Karen died they were trying for one. He even made a crib for whenever they got lucky and she conceived.
He may come across like a gruff old hunter, but he really did like kids. So it was no surprise how easily John's two boys wormed their way into his heart.
Dean's cocky attitude, and vivacious personality was a real treat to enjoy. The kid just had a way with adults, it was probably because ever since the little bit was young he was expected to act like an adult, either way Dean was a smart cookie. Knew how to talk his way into anything he wanted, Bobby even fell to Dean's powers when the kid managed to talk him into giving him a ride in Bobby's newly refurbished Mustang.
Little rascal. Bobby smiles and rocks slowly back and forth in the rocking chair. To a passerby it would seem as if he were staring off into space, lost in the memories of yesteryear. But Bobby was a hunter, his eyes and ears were sharply tuned into the precious cargo out by his front gate.
Sam.
It's been about four weeks since John and Dean dropped Sam off to go hunt some werewolf’s in Colorado. It was supposed to be Dean's big solo hunt, and John preferred if Sam stay with him.
Not that Bobby could blame the old bastard. Sam was only 12 and no matter how grown up the kid acted he was still just that; a kid. Bobby knew John wouldn't let anything happen to Dean, despite John's revenge driven mind he still loved his sons and he wouldn't let anything happen to them, not intentionally of course.
Looking at the gate he watched as Sam stared at the old dusty road, his small form wrapped in a blanket to stave off the chilly wind. His eyes wide and encompassing as he desperately hopes to catch a glimpse of black gleaming metal as the Impala purrs down the road.
Unfortunately John and Dean weren't coming. Bobby's been trying to reach them for days, ever since they left Sam he has been on a downward spiral and Bobby just didn't know what to do to make him better. It's not like he could blame Sam for missing his family. And damn John the stupid bastard. He was supposed to be back two weeks ago. The hunt was simple, something easy for Dean to start off with, that's what John reassured him as he packed his belongings and left.
It wasn't supposed to be this long, and Bobby knows Sam won't admit it, but the boy is scared shitless. He knows his Daddy always called to tell them when the hunt took some more time.
The calls stopped coming after about one week, even Dean stopped calling and Bobby knows Dean would never stop calling his brother. Either John and him are staying somewhere with no cell reception or something happened. It's not like he would voice his fears to Sam though, the kid was freaked as it was. He made sure to call every hunter he knew, out of ear distance from Sam of course, asking if they could go to Colorado to check up on John and Dean. Finally he was able to get Joshua who agreed to go see what was going on. The downside is Joshua was on the other side of the country. Currently in Maryland wrapping up a gig of his own, so it would take a few days to make the drive.
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Bobby would never admit it out loud, but he was freaked too. That don't happen often.
He remembers just a few days ago, when he woke up at 2:15 in the morning to Sam puking his poor guts out.
Bobby wasn't sure what exactly woke him.
It was about as early as they come when his eyes suddenly popped open and his body filled with tension. He grunted his displeasure as he noticed the time and tried to go back to sleep but try as he might he couldn't fall back into the restful sleep he was in earlier.
“Balls...” Bobby huffed and slowly made his way out of bed, stumbling and hitting things as he blindly made his way to his bathroom to relieve himself.
That's when he heard it.
The sounds of awful puking filled his ears as he got closer to the door. Unless his dog magically unlocked the front door and decided to come inside to throw up in the bathroom, it had to be Sam.
Bobby's stomach rolled in displeasure as he grimaced. Maybe the kid was sick?
Trying the door handle he noted it was locked. “Sam? You alright in there boy?” Bobby hollered while giggling the handle.
For a minute it seemed as if Sam wouldn't answer him, then finally a small voice squeaked up.
“I'm f-f-fine..I'll b-be out in a min-minute.”
Bobby's heart twisted at Sam's stuttering. He tried to remember what Sam ate before he went to bed but he was coming up blank.
“Sam...” Bobby sighed and shook his head. The door remained fully shut and the lock never budged. If Sam wasn't going to let him in, well Bobby had to get in himself.
Making his way back to his bedroom he gathered his lock pick from his side table and began to go to work on the bathroom door.
Luckily his house was old, the locks never really stood a chance at Bobby's expert skills and he heard the audible click probably 5 seconds later.
He straightened and pushed the door open and peeked inside.
Sam was curled up around the toilet, looking miserable as sweat dribbled down from his forehead. Bobby's heart clenched painfully. “Aw kid..”
“I'm so-sorry Uncl-Uncle Bobby. I'll cle-clean the mess up.” Sam stuttered.
Bobby frowned, the poor boy seemed to be freezing but his bathroom was one of the warmest rooms in the house. “There's nothing to be sorry about Sammy.” Bobby tutted as he grabbed a washcloth from the rack and ran it under luke-warm water. Once he was done he wrung it out and gently mopped up Sam's brow and face, trying to clean up any left over residue from his vomiting.
The most worrying aspect of it all was that Sam let him wipe his face. Sam never let anyone wipe his face like that, always said he wasn't a baby anymore and didn't need it. Even if the kid had two broken hands he would damn well wipe his own face.
Didn't even let Dean wipe his face...something was wrong.
“Sammy?” Bobby cupped the kids cheek and bit his lip in worry at how weak he was. Sam's head lolled in Bobby's hand as his eyes struggled to focus on his Uncle.
“What did you eat last boy?” Bobby asked with concerned laced in his voice. Could be food poisoning, if that was the case they had to make a quick trip to the E.R.
“Uh.....” Sam's eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to remember the last time he ate.
“You don't remember what you ate last?” Bobby asked again when he got no answer from Sam. Food poisoning didn't cause memory loss.... “Sam when did you eat last?” Bobby stated a panic to his voice.
His hand tightened on Sam's lolling head as the kid once again refused to answer. Bobby could tell though by Sam's eyes that the kid had no idea when he ate last, Bobby couldn't even recall when he last saw Sam eat.
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“Damnit boy...” Bobby whispered. Weakness, being cold, throwing up, stomach pains...all a sign of not eating.
Sam whimpered and a tear slipped out of his closed eyes. “I'm s-sorry.”
Bobby's heart broke again for the young Winchester, who was just worried about his family. That doesn't excuse the not eating part, but it explained a lot. “It's alright Sammy, ok? Let's get you to bed, maybe get some chicken soup in you huh?”
Sam gave no answer just nodded his head. Bobby easily picked up Sam bridal style as he carried him to his room. He set him down on his bed and covered him up with his comforter.
“Just stay there ok I'll be up with some soup for ya and I'm not leaving till you eat it.”
That night Bobby surely would never forget. Sam continued to throw up all that he ate, Bobby was worried he would have to take Sam to the emergency room but thankfully around 6 am Sam managed to keep the crackers and soup down and managed to get a decent nights sleep.
Now, with the sun setting down Bobby watched as Sam shivered in the cold. He shouldn't let the poor kid sit out and stare at the road but he didn't have the heart to make him stop. If it made the kid feel better, Bobby would let him do it as long as he needed too.
Though it was getting cold, and Sam has been out there for a while now. It was definitely time to head inside, cook some dinner and settle down for the night. Hell he might even let Rumsfeld come inside tonight, the old mutt loved cuddling up next to Sam and Sam always loved it when the dog stayed inside.
Bobby stood up and slowly cracked his back, grunting in mild pain at a particularly painful knot. Shaking it off he made his way down to gate with Rumsfeld at his heels. He knew Sam heard him coming by the way his back tensed up.
“Sammy...” Bobby started slowly. “I think it's time to come inside now, get us some dinner started.”
Sam didn't speak, he never really did. Just kept staring at Bobby with wide, wet eyes almost pleading with him to bring John and Dean back.
The only good thing out of this was Sam didn't put up a fight when Bobby managed to guide him inside, sit him down and feed him until he was full.
Sam walked himself to the couch as Rumsfeld bounded after him, tongue lolling out as he licked at Sam's hand, hoping the young hunter would maybe scratch his belly.
Bobby watched sadly as Sam just covered himself with the blanket and laid down on the couch without a word. Rumsfeld whined but settled on the floor in front of him.
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It isn't until midnight that Bobby hears the Impala. His eyes pop open and he's almost running down the stairs to see if his senses were right.
The cars lights shine into his house and highlight Sam on the couch. The poor kid was so tired he doesn't even notice it. Rumsfeld somehow made his way from the ground to the couch. It's a comical sight seeing Sam and the dog squished on the same couch.
Bobby smiled and waited until the door slowly creaked open. John's shadow comes walking into the house, his face looks haggard but he also looks surprised at seeing Bobby waiting for him.
“Hey Bobby...” John starts but Bobby interrupts.
“Save it. Where's Dean?” Bobby has no need to hear John's blank excuses.
“I'm right here.” Dean says softly as he maneuvers around his Dad. Bobby notices how Dean's eyes instantly scan the house until they land on Sam.
Dean's smile softens to a fond one as he sees Sam and Rumsfeld piled on the couch sleeping soundly. He doesn't plan on telling Dean what went down those weeks he been gone, that would be cruel, no but he sure as hell does plan on telling John. Especially since both John and Dean look fine, the hunter was going to get an ear full from Bobby and Bobby would never let the man forget it.
He doesn't see the Winchesters very much after they take off the next day, John's jaw is set as he loads the Impala with their bags, obviously pissed from the lashing Bobby gave him.
Sam's stuck to Dean's hip as he follows the boy everywhere. Dean doesn't seem to mind, if anything Dean seems more peaceful at having his brother at his side.
Bobby watches as the Impala takes off, the dust blowing as John skids the tires just to be an ass.
Rumsfeld whines at noticing his companion is gone. Bobby normally would tell the dog to suck it up, but somehow after seeing what Sam went through those weeks he knows how hard it is to see family walk away and wonder if they'll ever come back.
Rumsfeld sleeps with him in bed that night, despite the dog kicking him every half hour because he's chasing fake squirrels in his dreams.
Bobby doesn't mind. He understands.
The Ends
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