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Fury pulsed through Dean in waves as he rushed across the salvage yard in pursuit of the cap wearing man in front of him. He couldn’t believe that Bobby Singer had actually called the cops on John after he found out that John had broken Sam’s nose a couple months prior when he had been drunk. It was a memory that Dean had attempted to force from his mind, and yet he was reminded of what happened with a harsh dose of reality. Things weren’t going perfectly with John, but they were doing better than they had previously been. John had been putting forth some effort and had kept his word to Dean not to lay a hand on Sam. Dean was relieved and still tried to hold onto hope that Sam may see this and stay. Deep down he knew that it wasn’t a possibility, but thinking that Sam would stay with him was one of the only things that kept him going.
“What did you do,” Dean seethed as he grabbed an empty paint can from one of the old cars and hurtled it in Bobby’s direction. It slammed right in front of his feet, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. “Don’t walk away from me!”
Bobby stood rigid for a moment, letting out a deep breath. His hands curled into fists at his sides before he turned to glance back at Dean. “Dean—“
“No,” Dean interrupted as he threw a hand upward, fingers pointed directly under Bobby’s chin. He stopped a foot or so in front of him and craned to his full height in an attempt to stand his ground. “You are going to listen to me first. What the hell were you thinking calling the cops on Dad?”
“I know what he did to Sam,” Bobby answered with his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. “He broke his nose. No one, especially not John, is going to lay a hand on either of you.”
“That’s not your call!”
“And you don’t condone what he did?”
“Hell no! That doesn’t mean that I’m going to call the police. What do you think would happen to Sam and I if Dad went away? You think that I would get custody of him even if he is almost 18? They’d throw him in a group home so fast it would make your head spin.” Dean brought his hands up to his face and pressed the tips of his fingers against his forehead, pushing upwards firmly to abate the pounding of his skull. “We know how to deal with him. Just stay out of our business!”
Bobby’s eyes blazed bright in fury. “This isn’t just your business! How do you think I feel seeing what you and Sam have to go through? You think that I can sit by and watch that happen?”
“Is that your problem with our Dad?” It was true that John wasn’t Dean’s favorite person either, but this was taking things to a new extreme. Dean had no idea that Bobby harbored such resentment toward John.
“Part of it, yeah,” Bobby huffed gruffly.
Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? And what was the other part?”
Bobby parted his lips, eyes narrowed when he looked at Dean. His gaze flickered past Dean toward the house where he knew Sam lurked inside. Even though he was almost finished with high school and probably had a million and one things he would rather be doing, he spent his time reading any of the old lore books that Bobby could find. Even though he was closer than ever to leaving this life behind, Bobby and Dean couldn’t ignore how much of a natural hunter was. However, if Sam’s heart wasn’t in it, then there wasn’t any point in prolonging the inevitable.
“What is the other part,” repeated Dean when Bobby didn’t automatically respond.
Bobby looked to Dean and spoke slowly, though not calmly. “He has a family that he doesn’t give a shit about!”
The words resonated more with Dean than he ever thought they would. Bobby had just said aloud what Dean had thought since he was four years old. If John truly cared about his children then he wouldn’t have forced them into this life and then turn to alcohol to soothe all past wounds. He left Dean to raise Sam, and although Dean couldn’t imagine not caring for his brother, the pressure that John had forced on Dean at such a young age had been unbearable. Dean had taken care of Sam more than John ever would. It was something that Dean was resigned to now, but hearing Bobby say it struck a cord with Dean.
Dean took a fierce step forward and Bobby took a step back. He wasn’t about to get into a fistfight with the furious looking Winchester.
“What my Dad is, what my family is, has fuck all to do with you,” Dean snarled, keeping his voice low and deliberate. He wanted Bobby to hear every word and know how much Dean meant what he was saying. He was appreciative of everything that Bobby had ever done for them, but he had stepped over the line and he needed to know that.
Stunned, Bobby took a step back again away from Dean. He seemed uncomfortable with the words he said and wasn’t sure how to respond. “Dean...” Bobby shook his head lightly. “I care about you and your brother like you’re my own kids. I thought I was helping.”
“We don’t need your help! We were doing fine before you and we’ll do fine after you.” Dean knew he wasn’t being fair to Bobby after everything the old hunter had done for them. It didn’t make anything easier for Dean to take. All of the tension from years of pent up aggression toward John and everything in between was boiling over; it just so happened that Bobby was in the line of fire. “This is my fucking family. It’s dysfunctional as hell, but it’s mine. You don’t get to decide what happens to us or our father. Butt the hell out!”
Bobby blinked his eyes quickly, breath catching in the back of his throat. It had been a while since he saw this much frustration from Dean. “I was only trying to help. I know men like him and they won’t stop until something or someone stops them.”
“And that sure as hell won’t be you.” Dean balled his right hand into a fist at his side and turned away from Bobby so that he could resist taking out his anger on him. He headed over to the nearest car and began to strike his foot against it. He kicked and kicked until his foot throbbed and he had left a considerable amount of damage to the already hunk of junk that could’ve been considered a car at one time.
Dean pulled away from it and started to storm forward with his fingers digging into his scalp and pulling at his short hair. “Fuck!” His shout echoed around the salvage yard, rushing back and overwhelming Dean a moment later. The frustration that he felt boiled over and he had to release some of that tension somehow before ducking back into the house to figure out the next steps of bailing his father out of jail so that they could get their lives back on track.
Bobby meant well and Dean knew that. He didn’t like to see Sam and Dean in any sort of danger or threat of bodily harm, and John was usually that threat. He had let his sons down so many times that they were used to it, but it was difficult for an outsider to look in and not want to help. Dean knew that and he felt a seed of guilt sprouting inside of him for how he had spoken to Bobby. He would have to apologize for that later. For now he had to focus on the path ahead of him.
This was Dean’s life and he was going to have to deal with it.