Sympathy for the devil
SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL
It was the oddest thing, to see that much blood leaking out of his body, to see that much equipment surrounding his bed, to see the bleak and serious faces of everyone around him... and to feel absolutely nothing.
It made Bobby wonder if everyone wasn’t simply overreacting.
It was only when the wheelchair rolled into his room, the one chair where he would spend the rest of his life, that the bitter reality finally came crushing down.
Dean was the one behind the wheelchair, pushing it as if it was his cross, his shame to bear. The fake smile that he had managed to maintain up until that point had vanished from his pale face.
Watching Dean walk into his room, alive, breathing and acting like an idiot who blamed himself for what had happened, reminded Bobby that there was an alternative to that wheelchair. Reminded Bobby of why exactly he was now an insensitive bastard from his prick down.
Bobby would gladly give up his life for either of those boys, that is something he had known for a very long time; he is happy to realize that the same is true for his freedom.