Chapter Text
It wasn’t the first time Oscar had stayed in the library much later into the night than he intended, but it was the first time he found himself going back and forth so often between books. Cross-referencing , Bobby called it, and the task was far easier for a human. Oscar couldn’t bring himself to bother the man, though, as he was just as engrossed in the task before them. Finding the right patterns meant everything to the hunters out there fighting monsters. Not just Sam and Dean, the only other hunters Oscar knew personally, but the whole vast network that looked to Bobby for help in their mission.
He was startled in the midst of turning a page when Bobby spoke up. “Balls, this damn case,” he grumbled. His voice didn’t make Oscar as nervous as it used to. “Dunno about you but I could use a drink.”
Oscar jolted, realizing the human was talking to him. He rushed to finish pushing the page over, letting the paper flip over and reveal him to the room once more. “O-oh, um,” he spoke up, shifting his feet. “I-I have my canteen in my bag.”
Bobby’s face softened into a subtle smile, one that hid well beneath the grumpy facade. “I ain’t talkin’ about water, kid. I’m thinkin’ some of the good stuff. Whiskey.”
Oscar's eyes widened. "O-oh," he replied, feeling like a broken record. 'Um. I've never had it before. I-it's, well, in the motel-”
“Tell you what,” Bobby interrupted before he could get started with his flustered rambling. "You try a bit, see if it suits ya. If not, no harm done and you can stick to water."
"Oh…” the human was already rising to his feet and heading towards the kitchen, " ...Kay.” Oscar shifted his feet, then glanced down at his bag as he rummaged for some foil to fold himself a cup. He'd heard plenty about whiskey. That it stung, that it cost a lot of money sometimes, that it put a warm, light feeling in the drinker’s gut.
He realized, as he heard Bobby pouring something into a glass in the kitchen, that he was looking forward to it.
Bobby reappeared in the doorway with both hands occupied, one with a glass and the other with a bottle cap. He set the cap a few inches from the book Oscar stood on, then sat back in his chair.
"A little goes a long way," Bobby warned as Oscar hopped down with his newly-folded foil cup. "Just try a bit, and don't spill it on the books."
Despite the stern instruction, Oscar was emboldened to try the drink. He got himself a portion little more than a drop. The sharp scent hit him like a forceful shove. Likewise, his first sip of the deep brown drink felt almost like an attack.
But then a warm, pleasant feeling settled in his middle. "Oh... um. It's nice! Th-thanks!"
Bobby smirked and took his own sip. "You earned it kid."