Work Text:
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Sam called him. Calling to catch up, he said, since it had been a year since they had last seen or heard from their Uncle Bobby. Sam wanted to know what was going on.
Bobby played along for a little while. Talked about Rumsfeld, the salvage yard, how he had gotten a call from Rufus not too long ago.
”So, how’s your dad doin’ at his job?”
”All right,” Sam murmured, ”Rumsfeld chase away more customers?”
Bobby hmm’d, ”Nah, I keep’im in the office now. How’s your brother doin’?”
Sam told him Dean was the reason they had been staying in one place for so long. Their traveling had ended in a shouting match between Dean and John. In the end Dean convinced their dad that Sam needed stability, and they had now been settled in a house on the outskirts of Hibbing for nearly 5 months.
When Sam had tried to change the subject again, Bobby answered with an ”Uh huh. Why exactly did you call if you’re not gonna tell me anything?”
”Just thought you should know where we lived,” Sam had answered, and hung up.
Bobby got the message.
He finished his workday, packed a bag and got Rumsfeld secured away with a neighbor. Leaving a sign on the outer fence of the salvage, he drove north to Hibbing the next day.
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Bobby took in the house covered in worn white paint. The outside was tidy, the lawn was mown and the lonely bush trimmed. In the driveway stood the Impala, showing signs of wear with rust starting to peak through above the wheels, and small scratches in the previously sparkling black paint. Bobby sighed, clearly something was not right for John to let his car get rusty. Before he could get under the hood to inspect the engine he heard the door flew open and a gangly kid came running at him, and arms squeezed him in a rib-cracking hug. Sam had grown a lot in the last year, but his beard still caught on top of Sam’s shaggy brown hair as he bent down to hug him back.
”Good to see ya, boy!”.
”You too, Bobby! How long are you staying? I can take the couch, and you can take my bed. Dean won’t mind sharing with you!” Sam stared up at him excitedly.
”Thanks, I'll get a motel if I need to, no need to give up yer bed, son.” He glanced up as the door opened again, and watched Dean coming down the front step.
”Hi Bobby, didn’t know you were coming,” He grinned. ”Didn’t know you knew where we lived, come to think of it,” the grin faltered as the back leg hit pavement.
He was limping slightly, trying to hide it, and there was a fist sized bruise on his temple. ”Sam called me,” Bobby furrowed his brow, grabbing Dean’s chin and maneuvering his head to get a closer look at the purple bruise that was contrasting starkly with the blond hair.
”What happened?” Bobby grunted, as Dean hissed and clenched his teeth.
”Nothing, Bobby. Stop worrying.” He batted Bobby’s hand away.
Bobby peered at the side of his face.
”I got in a fight, and lost. All right?” He lifted his chin. ”No big deal, it’ll pass. At least I got these bruises. Chicks dig a warrior.” He grinned crookedly and winked, slapping Sam in the back of the head.
Bobby let out another disbelieving hum, and placed his arm around Sam. ”You boys gonna show me in, or am I gonna stay in the front yard like some Jehovah’s witness?”
Sam snorted, and started dragging him inside by the hand as Dean fell into step beside Bobby. ”I’ll get the coffee going,” Dean said, ”Or do you want something stronger? We got whiskey, I think. Dinner will be ready in ‘bout an hour.”
”Coffee’s good. You makin’ dinner?”
Dean nodded.
”Where’s your daddy?”
Dean kicked a rock, ”He’s sleeping, he had a hard day at work. I’ll tell him you’re here.” he mumbled
”I’d ‘preciate it.”
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The inside of the house was as tidy and neat as the outside, but it was clear there had been a hasty removal of surface rubbish very recently. Probably beer or liquor bottles. Probably both. Dean disappeared around the corner for his dad’s bedroom, as Sam dragged Bobby to the the table.
”How’s school?”
Sam grinned, ”Brilliant. On our first day in chemistry our teacher mixed these two gasses and the mixture barked! It was so cool! I think chemistry might be my favorite subject,” Sam nodded to himself.
”You bein’ good? No detentions, or anythin’?”
”No. Well, one. But the jerkface deserved it,” Sam looked down at the table, poking at a scratch.
”What happened?”
Sam met Bobby’s eyes and straightened his back, ”Our school’s next to the jr. high, right?” Bobby grunted, ”So this eight grader thought he’d be all cool for his friends, you know? Moron started basically bullying Barry, this guy in my class, he was pushing him around calling him names and stuff.” Sam sighed as he looked at Bobby,” I didn’t mean to, I swear, I guess I just lost my temper when he got pushed into the trashcans, and none of the teachers would do anything. So I punched him in the face. Kind of hard, harder than I meant to, at least. He started to bleed. Turns out I almost broke his nose. At least he hasn’t bothered us since. I got detention for a week, though.” Pouting slightly and still picking at the scratch. When there had been nothing but silence for a few seconds he dared glance up.
”Good job.”
”W-what?” Sam’s brown eyes shone with surprise.
”You protected a friend, even when it’d’ve consequences for yourself. I reiterate; good job.” His beard lifted slightly, and his eyes crinkled at the corners.
Sam huffed a smile, ”thanks.”
”Dad’s on his way, just getting his clothes on. I’ll get you that coffee now.” Dean said as he came around the corner headed for the kitchen.
”No rush. Probably had too much on the road. What’s for dinner?” Bobby leaned back in his chair slightly.
”Thought I’d make pork chops and roast potatoes.”
”That sounds great.”
”Thought we were saving those for a special occasion?” Sam shot in.
”Bobby’s here, doesn’t get more special than that,” Dean smiled and clapped his hands together, and got to work preparing dinner.
”Sure you wanna use’em today?” Bobby asked.
”Yeah, Dean’s right. Today’s the right occasion,” Nodding determinately, Sam met his brother’s eyes and gave him a small smile.
Placing a hand on Sam’s folded arm to get his attention, he tried to speak so only Sam could hear him, ”Hey, Sam, you did good, but do you often have trouble with your temper?”
Sam looked scared, but answered, ”Not really. Sometimes, maybe.”
Bobby patted his arm and nodded, storing it away for later. This wasn’t the time as John came stumbling around the corner rubbing his eyes. His hands seemed to blend with his face when he reached up to scratch his three-day salt and pepper beard. Bobby grunted a hello. John returned it with a wave of the hand and a too big smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, as he sat down across the table.
"Hey, Bobby!" John was overenthusiastic and clutched his head sharply, "Sorry, got a headache, what brings you to out neck o' the woods?"
Bobby shrugged, "been a while, wanted to say hi."
Dean came out of the kitchen with the coffee pot and two cups, ”Dinner will be ready in about 30 minutes.”
John nodded.
”Thanks, son,” Bobby said.
They chatted some until dinner was ready, but mostly Bobby talked to Sam, while John sipped his coffee.
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”So, what actually happened to you?”
Dean shrugged off his questions with a short, ”Told you, I lost a fight. No big deal.” He avoided John’s eyes, and it made Bobby suspicious.
After Dean had made them dinner, he brought Bobby and John glasses and a bottle of Johnnie Walker red label and left them alone to do the dishes, then he had headed outside.
Both Sam and Dean had been slightly tense throughout dinner, neither talking much, and Sam had disappeared to his room as soon as he could.
He’d known John a long time, and he knew from personal experience how devastating it was to lose your wife, but John had never pulled himself back up. It had left Dean taking care of his father and brother, not the other way around. Up until now he hadn’t seen anything egregious enough to warrant taking the boys away. He had also never lost contact for as long as a year. John had still been providing most of the money, as far as he knew.
”So, what’s goin’ on?”
John took a deep sip, grimaced slightly and grabbed the bottle for a refill, ”what do you mean?”
”Dean’s limpin’ around, barely able to reach out for the top shelves. What happened?”
”Dunno. You should ask him.”
Bobby regarded him, trying to figure out why he couldn’t get a straight answer out of anyone.
”You workin’?” He decided to work it out slowly, maybe Sam would be more forthcoming. A bit underhanded to use him, but needs must.
”Yeah,” John grunted. ”Got a construction gig goin’. The boss’ a dick, though, so I’m looking for something else. Don’t know how long I’ll be staying there. Why? You looking to hire the best mechanic west of the Mississippi?” John grinned wide as he downed another drink, filling up the glass reflexively.
They, or rather he, was moving through the bottle fast. Bobby was still working on his first drink. He was supposed to drive later, after all.
”No, we don’t exactly work well together, John.”
”Ain’t that the truth,” he guffawed. ”It was good work though, making a machine like that work. It’s man’s work.”
The first time John had lost his job after Mary died, Bobby had offered him a place at the salvage. It started fairly well, but the drinking didn’t subside, and John got angrier and more combative. With Bobby, which he could handle, but also with his coworkers and costumers. Bobby had managed to keep him around for 3 years, but then everyone was done, John included. He took the boys and started looking for greener pastures.
”I s’pose. Always enjoyed putting things together, and makin’ things function. Always been a tinkerin’ sort of person.”
”Hah! Remember when that dog got stuck in the rope trap you set up? Nearly got hit by that beam you’d rigged,” he slapped the table as he laughed. ”Man, he ho-owled! Was that the last time we stopped by?”
Bobby nodded at his drink, ”yeah, that backfired. Never did catch those burglars. Dog’s been a treat, though. Sweet as all get-out, and havin’ him around’s stopped people tryin’ things again.”
”You kept it?”
”Yeah, never could find his owner, so Rumsfeld stayed.”
”Rumsfeld, huh?”
”You got a problem?” Bobby raised an eyebrow.
John lifted his hands in a supplicating gesture, making a big show of backing off.
”No problem, it’s a good name. Have another drink, ya grump,” he said as he filled their glasses again.
Dean walked in from outside as they sipped their refilled glasses. Keeping his eyes on the rag, trying to wipe the oil off his hands, he made his way to the kitchen without looking up. Bobby wasn’t even sure he had seen them.
”Don’t go and get oil on anything,” John’s voice had dropped its joviality.
Dean startled and looked up, ”I won’t. Sir.”
The sound of the sink running made John raise his voice, ”Yeah, mechanic’s work’s man’s work.” He took a swig and nodded to himself, while Bobby eyed him wearily.
The sink had shut off, followed by the sound of a cupboard opening and closing.
”No feeble-minded weirdo’s able to do that job.” More nodding.
Bobby glanced at Dean’s stiff shoulders as he drank a glass of water, but resolutely tried to ignore the monologue going on. He’d clearly heard it before.
”Imagine one of them at that kind of work,” he scoffed, Dean put his glass down, ”they can’t even act normal in public, can’t even keep it in their pants or keep their hands to themselves, how can we-”
”John, what the hell are you talkin’ about?” Bobby interrupted. ”Is this what’s gotten between you and Dean, ‘cause I can tell you your boy ain’t dumb.” Bobby knew fairly well what John was talking about, but he needed to hear it, he needed cause.
”Oh, he is, Bobby. Can you believe I caught that idiot with his hand down another fag's pants? No boy of mine’s gonna turn out like that if I got something to say ‘bout it! Only time will tell if I beat him hard enough.” He smirked, and took another swig.
Bobby regarded him quietly, then he harrumphed and stood from his seat. ”John, you’re a damn sunnovabitch! You’ve drifted so far from the man ya once were tha’ I don’t believe I know ya anymore. You need help.”
In the kitchen Dean stood watching him with wide shining eyes.
Bobby walked into the kitchen, and placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, ”Go get Sam and get packin’. We’re leavin’ as soon as you’re ready. Grab everything you need and want with ya, I’ve got the truck with me so we got room. We can always come back for things, but it’s a bit of drive.”
Dean swallowed, then nodded and hobbled as fast as he could up the stairs to find Sam.
He heard a growl behind him, ”What do you think you’re doin egssakly? Huh? You think you gonna take ma boys with ya, juss like that?”
John had almost finished the bottle whilst Bobby had talked to Dean, and it was starting to show. Having dealt with much bigger and drunker men than John previously, Bobby wasn’t worried, but he wouldn’t have minded having Rumsfeld with him.
”John, go lie down. You’re not doing anyone any favors right now.”
”Oh, shut up, you’re kidnapping my boys. I’ll go to the police. You know I will!”
”I will leave right now, John, without the boys, if you can tell me Sam’s math grade.”
As Sam was making straight A’s this was a very easy question, and Bobby felt his nerves making an appearance for the first time. He’d just lie if John was right.
John snorted, ”thasss easy, he’s a solid B student, like a good boy. Never reaching too high, not makin’ waves, unlike some.” He looked smug as hell.
”No, John.” Bobby shook his head. ”Sam’s as brilliant as his brother, and is making straight A’s. I’m takin’ the boys with me. You can come see’em when you sober up.”
”Wass that supposed to mean?” John looked affronted, and he took a swaggering step toward Bobby.
”It means that you, as you are now, are in no condition to look after those boys, or be near’em. If they want to talk to you later, I can’t stop’em, but for now all contact will go through me. Understand?”
”You can’ juss take the boys from me. Thought you were my friend, Bobby?” John looked scandalized.
”The boys come first, John. Their safety comes first. You beat Dean. I can guess at him bein’ the one takin’ care of everyone, while you been spending your money on booze. You got more than enough chances. Go sit on the back porch while we pack.”
John furrowed his brow and clenched his jaw, he was just about to open his mouth when Bobby cut him off, ”I ain’t askin’.”
John closed his mouth and bit his teeth, glaring at Bobby. Bobby glared back harder, standing his ground. ”You know I can take ya, John.”
John squared his shoulders, huffed a breath, and walked off to his bedroom. Bobby let him go.
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”Sam, you want this shirt?” Dean waved a bright yellow shirt at Sam.
”I don’t want your old shirt, ass face, leave it.”
”Oh, nice, Sammy. Kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?”
”Wow, Dean. Did not expect that from you, of all people!” Sam looked gaping and wide-eyed at his brother.
”What? What’d I do?” Halting his movements, Dean stared at Sam.
”You just decided that I’m into girls? Just like that?” Sam’s affronted face broke into a laughing grin at his brother’s expense.
”You seemed to be getting pretty close to that Amy Pond the other day,” Dean said with a shit-eating grin.
Sam’s blush was beautiful.
”You’re such a butt munch!” He yelled.
”Don’t mind if I do!” Dean smirked as he threw the shirt into a corner, won’t be needing that.
”Oh, gross Dean! Just pack, and stop bugging me!” Sam almost squeaked as he turned back to the closet.
”How y’all doin’ up here?” Bobby broke in, rapping the doorframe and watching the blush spread down Dean’s neck as he spun around.
”Uhm, fine. We’re, uhm, fine.” He cleared his throat. ”I’m going to clear out the bathroom, yeah, I’m gonna go do that,” He cleared his throat again, and tried to sneak past Bobby in the doorframe.
”You tryin’ to escape an uncomfortable situation?” Bobby smirked.
Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, and he realized Sam’s room had gone quiet.
”I’ve known you your whole life, Dean. You likin’ boys ain’t changin’ anything about how much I love you.” His eyes never left Dean’s, ”got that?”
Dean nodded, and Bobby clapped his cheek lightly with his hand, before letting it fall.
”Now get t’packin’. D’you need any more boxes?”
Dean swallowed visibly, closing his eyes for a second, he turned and nodded at Sam, ”we’re good. You good, Sammy?”
Sam smiled and nodded back. ”I’m good, Dean.”
”Good.”