Chapter Text
Bobby Singer watches a dust covered Impala swing into the yard and pull up to the gas pumps. It’s another hot summer day and the old car’s engine ticks loudly as it tries to cool down. A tall man with dark hair and a scruffy beard emerges from the driver’s side. He leans back into the car and barks a few words before turning to the pump.
As the man starts the gas flowing into the classic muscle car the back passenger door opens with a loud squeak and two boys come tumbling out. Both are young and look to be a few years apart.
The older boy reaches for the younger boy’s hand, but receives a dismissive glare in return.
Bobby grins.
The older boy shrugs and waves the younger one toward the store.
“Morning boys.” Bobby greets them both with a smile as they enter.
“Good morning, Sir.” The older boy’s reply is polite, but wary. He looks around the shop, sharp eyed and cautious.
Bobby adjusts his baseball hat and looks them over.
Their clothes are worn, but clean. The older boy’s clothes are a little too small. His t-shirt is stretched to the limit and torn jeans too short for his height. His sneakers are worn out, sporting popped stitches, and duct tape holding them together at the toes.
The younger boy’s clothes are just the opposite. Everything he has on is too big. His t-shirt gapes at the collar that is slipping off one thin shoulder, his jeans are dragging on the ground, and he’s wearing a flannel shirt that hangs to his knees. His shoes seem to fit and look relatively new or least they aren’t taped together.
The younger boy looks around the shop and then at Bobby. He has shaggy brown hair and wide curious eyes. He cocks his head and smiles.
Bobby smiles back. “What can I do for you today?” He leans forward and waves a hand at the shop. “It’s ain’t much, but there’s bound to be something you might fancy.”
The younger boy nods and looks at the older boy for permission.
“Bathroom?” The older boy asks.
The younger boy blushes and shakes his head.
“You sure?” The older boy gives the young one a doubtful look.
The younger boy huffs and glares at the older boy. “I’m not a baby Dean.”
“Sorry, Sammy.” The older boy mumbles and waves a hand at the shop. “Go ahead and pick something. You know the rules.”
The younger boy grins and hurries to the nearest rack, bending to inspect the chocolates and brightly packaged candies.
The older boy, Dean, makes no move to join him.
“You doing okay, son?” Bobby can’t help but ask. He’s curious about their situation and takes a minute to study the boy while he can, looking for bruises or any indication he should call in the cops. Having grown up rough himself he knows what to look for.
“Yes, Sir.” Dean replies without taking his eyes off the younger boy.
Bobby frowns and glances out toward the pumps. The tall man is still waiting for the car to fill up, apparently unconcerned about the boys being in the shop alone. “That your dad?”
“Yes.” Dean rolls his eyes. “That’s our dad, we aren’t in any trouble, and…” He shoots an annoyed glare at Bobby. “We don’t need your help.”
Bobby sits back, crosses his arms, and sighs. “Fair enough.”
Dean grimaces and lets his shoulders slump. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” Bobby acknowledges. He knows there are plenty of folks in the world that wouldn’t think twice about these two boys, but he’s not one of them.
“Thank you for asking.” Dean lifts his eyes and looks at Bobby for a long moment. “Most people don’t bother or don’t care.”
Bobby returns the boy’s steady gaze. “Had to ask.” He sniffs. “It would have left me wondering.”
“I get that.” Dean huffs and turns to check what is happening at the pumps. “Time to go Sammy.”
“Okay, Dean.” The smaller boy hurries over with a pack of Peanut M&Ms in one hand and a Hostess Cherry Pie in the other. He places them carefully on the counter and smiles up at Bobby.
“Put the pie back Sammy.” Dean tells him. “We don’t need it.”
“But…” Sammy protests. “Cherry Pie’s your favorite.”
Dean glances over at the pumps. “Forget it Sammy.”
“No.” Sammy shakes his head stubbornly and starts to dig around in the pocket of his jeans.
The older boy huffs, shoving a hand in his own pocket and slapping a handful of change on the counter. “Save your money.”
Sammy flashes a grin and gives Bobby an expectant look.
“Solid choices.” Bobby nods his approval and works the register. “You two want a beverage?”
Dean shakes his head, spreads the coins out on the counter, and meticulously sorts enough money to cover their purchase.
“I’ll tell you what…” Bobby slides the change into his hand and drops it into the cash draw without looking at it. “I’ve got me a fresh bag of apples and there’s no way I can eat them all by myself. Why don’t you boys help me out with that?”
Dean raises a skeptical eyebrow.
“Apples!” Sammy breaks into an eager grin.
It’s all the encouragement Bobby needs. He slides off the stool and reaches beneath the counter for a brown paper bag. He places the bag of apples he’d just picked up at the market inside. He looks at the boys and decides in for a penny, in for a pound.
Bobby steps around the counter to grab a loaf of bread and then goes to the stand up cooler for a pack of lunchmeat and two cartons of milk. He drops them into the bag and quickly adds a large bag of beef jerky, two packs of bubble gum, and two bags of plain potato chips. He heads back to the counter and drops the M&Ms and cherry pie the boys paid for inside.
“Mister…” Dean starts to protest.
Bobby ignores him and leans over the counter, deliberately handing the bag to the younger boy. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, Mister!” Sammy clutches the bag to his chest like unexpected treasure and smiles brightly.
“Not a problem.” Bobby shrugs and avoids the glare Dean is sending his way. “I’ve got plenty and you boys are my only customers so far today.”
Sammy nods happily and looks at his brother.
Dean bites his lip and shoots a worried look toward their car.
Bobby frowns and wonders if he’s just caused trouble the boys don’t need. He looks out and sees the boy’s father has turned and is looking at the shop. He wonders if the man is running from something or simply too stubborn to accept assistance. Either way, he’s clearly made his sons wary of honest help. He sighs. “Listen…you boys tell your dad that you two just won a door prize for being the one hundredth customer this month. Okay?”
Dean narrows his eyes.
Bobby crosses his arms and waits.
Sammy looks at his brother, at Bobby, and then the bag. He heaves a sigh and moves to put the bag on the counter.
“No, it’s fine.” Dean hand darts out and grabs the younger boy’s arm. “It’s okay Sammy. It’s a really nice thing to do. Right?”
Sammy gives the older boy a cautiously hopeful look.
“We never win anything.” Dean shrugs and forces a smile. “Guess it’s our lucky day!”
Sammy, gives him a cautious nod.
“Why don’t you go tell dad all about it.” Dean steers the younger boy to the front door and gives him a little push outside.
Sammy grips the bag and takes off toward the car like a shot.
Bobby watches him go with a smile.
Dean turns back to Bobby. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s not a problem.” Bobby tells him. “Like I said, I’ve got plenty and you two are the only customers I’ve had in the shop all day.”
Dean heaves a sigh, obviously torn.
Bobby lifts his chin toward the Impala. “You sure you two are okay?”
“Ya.” Dean straightens his shoulders. “We’ll be fine.”
Bobby nods, can only hope so.
Dean turns to leave.
“Dean…” Bobby calls out on impulse.
The boy looks back in surprise.
“If that ever changes you ask for help. You hear?” Bobby selects a business card from the small stack he keeps atop the register and leans forward holding it out. “You need anything…anything at all. You give me a call or dial 911, or…someone you can trust.”
Dean looks at the card and out at the car where the younger boy is excitedly explaining the contents of the paper bag to their dad.
Bobby can see their father nodding and ushering his younger son into the back seat. He wonders if anything he’s said or done will make a difference to these boys. Maybe they need help, maybe they don’t, either way at least he tried. He looks at the boy hovering near the front door and gives him an encouraging smile. “Or maybe, you make your way back here.” He shrugs. “No questions asked.”
Quick as lightening Dean snags the card and stuffs it into his jeans.
Bobby suppresses a smile.
Dean takes a deep breath and with a determined look he shoves the door open, hurrying across the lot to the old Impala. He hops into the back seat and the car immediately pulls away.
Bobby heaves a sigh. Jumping into someone else’s business isn’t a habit of his and he rarely sees or has reason to speak to children, but today he’d acted on instinct and he can only hope he did the right thing. He adjusts his hat, leans against the walk up window, and watches the car disappear down the road.