SPN Fic: Just one look (PG13) for Hurt Comfort Bingo
Title: Just One Look
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: not mine
Word count: 1525
Summary: Bobby has a new talent these days - but the last thing he wants is to follow Sam down the wrong path.
Author's note: written for the unwanted superpower square on my HC bingo card. Features violence. Edit: For a h/c fic I felt Bobby didn't get enough comfort in this, so I extended it a bit.
The first time it happens, Bobby doesn’t bother to try and connect it to anything. It’s the Apocalypse, weird shit is happening all over the world, and in amongst that a demon dropping dead just before it can slice his throat open isn’t that peculiar.
Maybe it was Castiel. Though the angel has his back to him, fighting his own particular corner, trying to keep Sam safe while the boy lies slumped behind him.
Hell, maybe it was Lucifer. They all know that in time he’s going to kill every single demon in existence. The only ones who don’t know seem to be the demons themselves.
All the same, Bobby can’t see him starting with one that’s about to end him. There’s no time to work it out though, because then Dean drives his truck through the wall and Bobby has to admit - the sigils Castiel worked into the steel of the fender work like a damn charm.
==
The next time it happens, it’s just him and Castiel. A hunt gone wrong, and Dean and Sam send the bastard to him. Bobby doesn’t know when his house became angel vet school, but he figures they stand a better chance with Castiel alive rather than dead, so he patches the angel up as best and can and leaves him to recover on the sofa.
He’s in the kitchen, making coffee, when he hears a thump and a grunt of pain. Stupid angel probably tried to get up and fell. Well if he did, he’s on his own getting back up. It’s not like Bobby’s in any shape to be helping him to his feet.
He backs the chair up, turns it around, and rolls into the living room.
Castiel is still on the sofa. A big guy, eyes black as pitch, has him pinned. One meaty hand is around the angel’s throat, and the other is brandishing a flint knife. It looks old, and from the way Castiel is fighting to keep it from stabbing him, Bobby realises it’s probably more lethal than it looks.
He doesn’t know how the hell that demon got through the wards, but it’s going to be sorry it did. He grabs at the shotgun strapped to the side of the chair, breaks it loose and aims.
“Hey,” he yells, and the demon turns to cast its dark gaze at him.
Because he even has a chance to fire, it collapses on top of Castiel, and the angel shoves it off with a groan. He’s bleeding again, but Bobby’s attention is on the body. He looses two rounds into it, just in case it’s faking.
But that’s one dead demon, and the second one to just drop in front of him.
Bobby’ll never shed any tears over them, but he doesn’t like mysteries and this is turning into a big one.
==
Castiel helps, a little. Helps in that he notices that the demon died after looking in Bobby’s direction. The angel limps across the living room - he checks every inch of the room on the way, and then continues with the kitchen, looking for anything that could affect a demon like that.
It’s only when Bobby tells him about the first demon that Castiel braces his hands on the arms of the chair, and leans forward to peer into Bobby’s eyes.
“It’s you,” he says, finally, and Bobby rolls back away from him.
“You hit your head or something? How can it be me?”
Castiel shakes his head. “I don’t know. But it is. If you doubt me, I’ll find another demon and bring it here for you to stare at.”
Bobby vetoes that idea. He thinks maybe he already knows it’s him, but admitting it means he has to start asking how this happened. And why.
==
It does have obvious advantages though. Fights with demons are over brutally fast. Even if Castiel isn’t there, Bobby can pick them out of a crowd without trying. They’re the ones dropping like something cut their strings when he just turns in their direction.
He knows it freaks Sam and Dean out no end - it’s like Sam’s problem all over again, but Bobby hasn’t been supping from the poisoned well and he sure as hell hasn’t made any deals or touched anything he shouldn’t have.
He has no clue as to how this came about, but maybe he just needs to accept it for now and the edge it gives them. Of course, like most gifts he knows he’ll probably have to give something in return and despite how useful it is he doesn’t want it.
He knows it can’t end well, and he worries that he’ll end up like Sam. Locked up in his own panic room, strapped to that fucking bed. He’s torn, and he hates that.
But maybe when they’re not days at best from the end of the world, when he can find time to care about more than keeping those stupid boys - and yes, he’s counting Castiel in that now too, since the dumbest angel around has decided this is the side he wants to be on and proved it in blood - alive and hopefully putting Lucifer back in his box? Once he can stop thinking that tomorrow could be when it’s finished for all of them, then he’ll try to figure out what the hell this is.
And who he has to pay for it.
==
But answers are never forthcoming for their little band of rebels. He should know better. Despite wanting to wait until it was all over and done with, Bobby can't. He doesn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this is the kind of gift that comes with sharp-teethed conditions. He wants to know what they are before they start to bite.
Dean and Sam don't quite know what to say to him. It's awkward as hell because it's him. If it was Sam - well, Sam's Dean's little brother and the ground's laid out there. All the roads are well trodden; Dean knows how to handle Sam. The same is true vice versa; no one knows how to deal with Dean better than Sam.
He's different.
He wants to stay at the yard until this thing stops but he can't do that. They need him and he's never hidden away from anything. Even when...even when Karen died he didn't lock himself in his room. He wanted to, but it was going to hurt wherever he was, whatever he did and so he reasoned he might as well get on it.
He shouldn't be suprised that it's Castiel who comes to him, just when he's wondering if this one time maybe he could just lock that door and leave everything on the other side.
"Bobby."
He offers the angel a beer, watches Castiel sip it and lean back against the porch rail. "Where're those two?"
Castiel looks at him disdainfully. "Dean has decided Sam needs to 'get laid before they start putting his dick on display in a museum'. When I left Sam had locked himself in the bathroom."
Bobby forces a chuckle. Might as well talk the talk. "You didn't want to go along?"
Castiel's staring at him like Bobby's transparent as a pain of glass. "Sam didn't want to go along. Dean's attempt to ensure I didn't die a virgin resulted in us being chased out of a brothel. Bobby."
He laughs but even he knows it's not fooling the angel. He sets the bottle down on the rail and covers his eyes, and prays for Castiel to leave him alone. A stupid old man too unsure of himself, too afraid that he's going to be made to pay severely for this 'gift'. The only things he has that he values are those three boys and maybe it's one or all of them that'll really pay the price.
Castiel kneels down next to him. He doesn't touch Bobby. He doesn't turn the chair around and try to hug him or do any of the stupid things somebody else might have done. Instead he waits until Bobby's done and then waits some more until Bobby's looking at him.
"I don't know how this ability came about, but you would know if you have dealt to receive it. Nothing is going to happen to Dean or to Sam, or to me. I won't let anything happen to you, either."
He picks up the beer and hands it back to Bobby. He sips it, happy to pretend like Castiel that his eyes aren't red rimmed. He considers muttering 'Goddamn allergies' but he can't be fucked.
"Chased out of a brothel, huh? Damn if that boy don't have some stupid ideas. Idjit."
Castiel nods. "He did seem to find it entertaining though."
When Bobby laughs this time, he feels it from inside. It carries some of the tension away with it, and he notices Castiel doing that not quite a smile thing.
"I'm not surprised," he says, and reaches up to clink the neck of his bottle against Castiel's and that's how they spend the rest of the day.
Fandom: SPN
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: not mine
Word count: 1525
Summary: Bobby has a new talent these days - but the last thing he wants is to follow Sam down the wrong path.
Author's note: written for the unwanted superpower square on my HC bingo card. Features violence. Edit: For a h/c fic I felt Bobby didn't get enough comfort in this, so I extended it a bit.
The first time it happens, Bobby doesn’t bother to try and connect it to anything. It’s the Apocalypse, weird shit is happening all over the world, and in amongst that a demon dropping dead just before it can slice his throat open isn’t that peculiar.
Maybe it was Castiel. Though the angel has his back to him, fighting his own particular corner, trying to keep Sam safe while the boy lies slumped behind him.
Hell, maybe it was Lucifer. They all know that in time he’s going to kill every single demon in existence. The only ones who don’t know seem to be the demons themselves.
All the same, Bobby can’t see him starting with one that’s about to end him. There’s no time to work it out though, because then Dean drives his truck through the wall and Bobby has to admit - the sigils Castiel worked into the steel of the fender work like a damn charm.
==
The next time it happens, it’s just him and Castiel. A hunt gone wrong, and Dean and Sam send the bastard to him. Bobby doesn’t know when his house became angel vet school, but he figures they stand a better chance with Castiel alive rather than dead, so he patches the angel up as best and can and leaves him to recover on the sofa.
He’s in the kitchen, making coffee, when he hears a thump and a grunt of pain. Stupid angel probably tried to get up and fell. Well if he did, he’s on his own getting back up. It’s not like Bobby’s in any shape to be helping him to his feet.
He backs the chair up, turns it around, and rolls into the living room.
Castiel is still on the sofa. A big guy, eyes black as pitch, has him pinned. One meaty hand is around the angel’s throat, and the other is brandishing a flint knife. It looks old, and from the way Castiel is fighting to keep it from stabbing him, Bobby realises it’s probably more lethal than it looks.
He doesn’t know how the hell that demon got through the wards, but it’s going to be sorry it did. He grabs at the shotgun strapped to the side of the chair, breaks it loose and aims.
“Hey,” he yells, and the demon turns to cast its dark gaze at him.
Because he even has a chance to fire, it collapses on top of Castiel, and the angel shoves it off with a groan. He’s bleeding again, but Bobby’s attention is on the body. He looses two rounds into it, just in case it’s faking.
But that’s one dead demon, and the second one to just drop in front of him.
Bobby’ll never shed any tears over them, but he doesn’t like mysteries and this is turning into a big one.
==
Castiel helps, a little. Helps in that he notices that the demon died after looking in Bobby’s direction. The angel limps across the living room - he checks every inch of the room on the way, and then continues with the kitchen, looking for anything that could affect a demon like that.
It’s only when Bobby tells him about the first demon that Castiel braces his hands on the arms of the chair, and leans forward to peer into Bobby’s eyes.
“It’s you,” he says, finally, and Bobby rolls back away from him.
“You hit your head or something? How can it be me?”
Castiel shakes his head. “I don’t know. But it is. If you doubt me, I’ll find another demon and bring it here for you to stare at.”
Bobby vetoes that idea. He thinks maybe he already knows it’s him, but admitting it means he has to start asking how this happened. And why.
==
It does have obvious advantages though. Fights with demons are over brutally fast. Even if Castiel isn’t there, Bobby can pick them out of a crowd without trying. They’re the ones dropping like something cut their strings when he just turns in their direction.
He knows it freaks Sam and Dean out no end - it’s like Sam’s problem all over again, but Bobby hasn’t been supping from the poisoned well and he sure as hell hasn’t made any deals or touched anything he shouldn’t have.
He has no clue as to how this came about, but maybe he just needs to accept it for now and the edge it gives them. Of course, like most gifts he knows he’ll probably have to give something in return and despite how useful it is he doesn’t want it.
He knows it can’t end well, and he worries that he’ll end up like Sam. Locked up in his own panic room, strapped to that fucking bed. He’s torn, and he hates that.
But maybe when they’re not days at best from the end of the world, when he can find time to care about more than keeping those stupid boys - and yes, he’s counting Castiel in that now too, since the dumbest angel around has decided this is the side he wants to be on and proved it in blood - alive and hopefully putting Lucifer back in his box? Once he can stop thinking that tomorrow could be when it’s finished for all of them, then he’ll try to figure out what the hell this is.
And who he has to pay for it.
==
But answers are never forthcoming for their little band of rebels. He should know better. Despite wanting to wait until it was all over and done with, Bobby can't. He doesn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this is the kind of gift that comes with sharp-teethed conditions. He wants to know what they are before they start to bite.
Dean and Sam don't quite know what to say to him. It's awkward as hell because it's him. If it was Sam - well, Sam's Dean's little brother and the ground's laid out there. All the roads are well trodden; Dean knows how to handle Sam. The same is true vice versa; no one knows how to deal with Dean better than Sam.
He's different.
He wants to stay at the yard until this thing stops but he can't do that. They need him and he's never hidden away from anything. Even when...even when Karen died he didn't lock himself in his room. He wanted to, but it was going to hurt wherever he was, whatever he did and so he reasoned he might as well get on it.
He shouldn't be suprised that it's Castiel who comes to him, just when he's wondering if this one time maybe he could just lock that door and leave everything on the other side.
"Bobby."
He offers the angel a beer, watches Castiel sip it and lean back against the porch rail. "Where're those two?"
Castiel looks at him disdainfully. "Dean has decided Sam needs to 'get laid before they start putting his dick on display in a museum'. When I left Sam had locked himself in the bathroom."
Bobby forces a chuckle. Might as well talk the talk. "You didn't want to go along?"
Castiel's staring at him like Bobby's transparent as a pain of glass. "Sam didn't want to go along. Dean's attempt to ensure I didn't die a virgin resulted in us being chased out of a brothel. Bobby."
He laughs but even he knows it's not fooling the angel. He sets the bottle down on the rail and covers his eyes, and prays for Castiel to leave him alone. A stupid old man too unsure of himself, too afraid that he's going to be made to pay severely for this 'gift'. The only things he has that he values are those three boys and maybe it's one or all of them that'll really pay the price.
Castiel kneels down next to him. He doesn't touch Bobby. He doesn't turn the chair around and try to hug him or do any of the stupid things somebody else might have done. Instead he waits until Bobby's done and then waits some more until Bobby's looking at him.
"I don't know how this ability came about, but you would know if you have dealt to receive it. Nothing is going to happen to Dean or to Sam, or to me. I won't let anything happen to you, either."
He picks up the beer and hands it back to Bobby. He sips it, happy to pretend like Castiel that his eyes aren't red rimmed. He considers muttering 'Goddamn allergies' but he can't be fucked.
"Chased out of a brothel, huh? Damn if that boy don't have some stupid ideas. Idjit."
Castiel nods. "He did seem to find it entertaining though."
When Bobby laughs this time, he feels it from inside. It carries some of the tension away with it, and he notices Castiel doing that not quite a smile thing.
"I'm not surprised," he says, and reaches up to clink the neck of his bottle against Castiel's and that's how they spend the rest of the day.