Why Yer My Favorite-part 2

Bobby's POV -A simple meal of pancakes reveals further reasons why Dean is his favorite

Don't own 'em, just love 'em, wished ta hell I worked for Kripke

wWw

Bobby recalls their first meeting went sorta like this:

I'd like ta think I'd passed the test of the show down on the porch just by my obvious domineering stance but I suspect it was the smell of the pancakes I'd been cookin' that wafted out the front door right about then; because Sammy who'd been silent up till now finally spoke up. The kid leaned into Dean's side grabbed his arm and stretched himself up onto tip toes to whisper into his big brothers ear and I heard, "Deeeaann, I smells pancakes!"

John's oldest had kept his eyes on me the whole time while he struggled to keep his balance between the heavy pack on his back and his little bother pulling on his left arm to whisper in his ear but at the mention of the word 'pancakes' he let his eyes slide down to glance at his kid brother. And I watched as Sammy looked up to him with a unspoken "please?" clearly written across that upturned face of his.

I could feel my own heart grow just a tad softer at the sight of those big puppy eyes the kid was workin' at the promise of pancakes and they sure had the desired effect on Dean. Coz he looked back to me and said, " Our dad wants us here until he gets back... if it's ok by you, we won't take up much room, N'we can crash on your couch if you got one- ( all serious like, like he'd half expected me to slam the door in his face or sumthin')

(Bobby shakes his head and sighs as he remembers how much his heart pinched for that little boy carrying all that weight even back then.)

But I tried to stay in character, leastwize a little while longer. I don't have much practice with kids but I know they'll run all over you if you give them half a chance and I wanted to give John back his boys, when he came back to git 'em back, in a fair semblance to the same way they came to me. So I kept my game face on and told him, "First we'll have the pancakes, I don't like mine cold so git yer asses in here then we'll decide where to stow yer gear. Sound fair enough?"

Dean gave me a one head nod to confirm and the little guy beside him grinned from ear to ear showing dimples as deep as the grand canyon and began to bounce in place; utterly happy to know he was about to have the simple pleasure of pancakes.

They moved into the living room and I closed the door behind 'em and watched as both kids scoped the room like they was walking into Merlin's lair.

I took a look around myself and noticed things I hadn't before, like beakers filled with half started spell work, my collection of huntin' knives hanging on the walls and a gun I'd been cleaning left still by my chair- I made a note to clear that stuff out, mebbe find a closet that had a lock on it...later.

While Sammy's head swiveled around the room Dean kept hold of his hand and tried to shuck off the back pack at the same time. He was hav'n some difficulty so I reached down and took hold of one strap saying, "Here, lemme put this over there, indicating a corner, so you can go and wash yer hands. But as he pulled free and I got the full heft of it I was was stunned to find that the pack musta weighed thirty pounds! Dean looked to be on the shy side of a hundred and he was lugging around more than a third his own weight with that thing. John had mentioned that he was planning on startin' training for the boy, but I hadn't thought he meant military, just I dunno, shooting practice or sumthin'. I made a mental note to go a little easy on Dean while I had him here as I put the pack down and tried not to show the startled look on M'face.

I took 'em into the kitchen and showed where the sink was to let'em wash up. And was surprised as I watched Dean drag one of the chairs from the table over to it and steady Sammy as he climbed up on it to be able to reach the sink. That kinda broke M'trance and I stepped over behind Sammy and said to Dean, "I'll watch him you just wash your hands." like it was an order or sumthin' and the kid shrugged and went to it. Sammy however just stood there and looked up at me then at Dean. The older one got a sly smile on his face told him, "its ok Sammy he prolly doesn't want you to break his chair."

And Sammy looked up at me kinda stricken, "I won't break nothin!, Imma big boy and can wash my hands good all by myself!"

Dean kinda snorted and Sammy stood there gripping the edge of the sink and glared at him, his little mouth all puckered up like he'd just sucked on a lemon or sumthin'. So I thought to defuse the situation and sez, "Well then Sammy, why don't you show me how you wash your hands all big boy like." And you know what the kid sez to me? He draws himself up... all two feet tall of himself and he tells me...he actually tells me, "Nobody calls me Sammy but my brother." and I had the hardest time not loosing my grip on the kid coz of how hard I wanted to laugh right then. It had to be the hardest poker face I'd ever put on and that includes the time I bluffed that hoodoo priest out of ten large down in 'Bama in '83 and had to hightail it out of the state just barely ahead of the curse he flung at me.

(Bobby laughs at the memory hard enough to end in a minor coughing fit.)

Anyway I had several stacks of already cooked pancakes warming in the oven but one glance at my guests and I knew I was going to have to "adjust" the seating arrangements see'n as how neither boy was gonna fit at the table usin' M'regular kitchen chairs.

So after 'Sam' washed up I planted him back on the ground and went in to the library to find the proper 'arrangements' so we could have supper. Dean would sit on the hardbound copy of a collection of Shakespeare and 'Sam' would be poised on my trilogy of Old World Spells the Arcane Volumes-they was the thickest.

Sammy, I mean Sam, was the neatest eater for a four year old I ever saw but even with that I quickly realized I needed a wet wash cloth at my side to mop up a trail of syrup from his plate to his mouth and wound up liften' him off the volumes and had ta put a towel over 'em just so's I could open up the pages later with out them being stuck shut from all that the maplely goodness that hadn't made it to his mouth. While I was gettin' the towel Dean finished his stack, which kinda surprised me coz he seemed right hungry when we sat down. Sam had found his vocal cords midway through supper and peppered me with a barrage of questions mighty well thought out for a young'un his age.

Mouth coated syrup and bits of pancake crumbs the kid looked at me and arched his brows askin',"Are you a Wizard?"

"No." I glanced at the oldest and Dean explained, "We'd read a book about a Sorcerer's Apprentice and the guy had beakers and stuff like you got."

Sam was squinting at me like he was waiting for an answer.

"Uh, no I'm not a Sorcerer, or a Wizard nor do I do magic, well mostly I don't, unless I got a call to... so don't touch anything or... ya might not like the results..ya hear?"

"Yes sir!" they both said. Then after a beat , Sam's brows pinched together, "Are all those knives yours?"

"Yep, don't touch 'em"

"Yes sir."

"Do you have any kids?"

(sighs) "Nope."

"Ever want any?"

"Maybe...once."

"We had a mother once." I saw the older boy flinch. I never did get to meet Mary, but by the way John talked of her I felt the loss almost as much too. "So I heard." I tells him and Dean looked up at me...and blinked.

Sam went on, "these pancakes are the bestest ever huh Dean?"

Dean smiled and reached over to ruffle his hand in the little guys longish hair, "They sure are, they taste better than I make that's for sure!"

Now it was my turn to quirk an eyebrow, "You cookin?"

Sam grinned and a big ol'crumb fell into one of them dimples. "Dean makes sketty-o's, N'cerial, N'toast and anything we got to eat it's coz Dean cooksit!"

The older boy looked down to his lap and mumbled, "I just open cans and heat stuff up mostly. 'sides we don't stay places with stoves and pans that much." Then he grinned back at a his brother, "anyways you like take out better doncha Sammy?"

As if on cue Sam's grin widened, "PIZZA!" he squealed. And waved his maple syrup coated fist in the air.

"Yah, well maybe later in the week we can do that." I added as I reached over to still the fist pump and wiped another strand of syrup off it that threatened to stretch across the table.

While I held his little hand in mine and wiped it down he looked up at me still grinning and said, "can we be your 'prentices' ?"

"ULP!" the kid was all dimples and grins and innocent sticky cuteness and shoot I was in way over M'head when I got the full brunt of what it meant to have such a small life dependen' on ya like that."

Dean saved me by saying, "He's not a Wizard squirt."

"Not a squirt!" the kid fired back.

"Ok and he's not a Wizard." the older one tried to reason.

Sam defended my honor by adding, "Betcha he could turn you into a hoppy toad if he had a call to."

"Nobodies turning anybody into toads, hoppy or otherwise." I emphasized.

Sam stuck his tongue out at Dean and Dean crossed his eyes at Sam.

Then we was back at the kitchen sink wiping Sam down again so's we could get them settled for the night. I had just about gotten all the sticky off'n him when I noticed the tip of a sandwich bag protruding from the older boys pocket.

"Boy, what's that there poking out of your jeans?" not angry just curious.

Dean embarrassedly stuffed the pouch back in deeper. "Nothin'" he hastily said.

I reached my hand out, "Fork it over."

The kid put his head down all hang dog like and pulled out a plastic baggie stuffed with the pancakes he'd had on his plate. "I was gonna save 'em for later, for Sammy if he got hungery...later" he trailed off softly.

I stood there flummoxed. Then Dean's stomach growled.

And the pieces fell into place. That derned kid was showin' old habits die hard and he musta been "savin" food aside for the young'un for a long time to have that habit so well engrained he'd pullit anywhere...even under my own roof.

"Boy." I said and tried to keep M'voice steady coz it was fixin' to break and I didn't want him to think that was weakness showin' in me.

"Seems like you didn't finish your supper tonight, and that is an insult to the cook." He didn't lift his head to meet my eyes, just nodded to the floor.

Just then Sam butted in, "S'alright he does that alla time coz his tummy hurtz if mine is too empty so he gives me som 'a his so's he doesn't hafta have a tummy ache-right Dean? Tell him..you do it alla time!"

Dean just let his head hang lower. Then he slowly straightened up and squared his shoulders lifted his chin up and looked me in the eyes and said, "Don't tell my dad-ok?"

"Ulp!" I put Sam back down. To tell you the truth I felt my head swim a little, almost dizzy like. How long had the kid been doin' this? How could John not know his oldest was purtinear starvin' himself to keep the both of them fed?

"I tell you what, you stayin' under my roof means I get to set the rules...do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Alright then. Rule number one, no leaving the table until everything on your plate is finished...even if its vegetables!"

Dean grimaced. "Yes sir"

"Ok, now march back to your chair and finish the ones I put in front of you...and that is an order...son."

Sam looked on all worried as I lifted three more warm ones out from the oven and put them on his brothers plate.

The older boy sat dejectedly down and picked up his fork, and his stomach rumbled again.

I went over to the pantry and took out a can and opened it up and scooped a big spoonful of peaches on top of the pancakes. And the boys' eyes went wide.

"Really?" Dean asked amazed.

"Not done yet," I said in as gruff a tone as I could muster and reached into the fridge for a can of sumthin' that I'd been savin' for a surprise later. Then I squirted a sizable dollup of whipped cream on top. "Ok, see if you can finish all of it."

Dean's face was lit up like Christmas morning. "Yes Sir!"

Sammy, er Sam tugged on the belt loops of M'jeans just then and added. "Kin I have some too?"

I'd just gotten the kid all cleaned up but whathehell, "Sure, but just peaches and cream, don't want you gettin' a belly ache from too much food."

"No sir!" the kid said as he scrambled back up onto his make shift high chair and I set a small plate in front of him. Kids... their grins and the enthusiastic clinks of spoons on plates made me realize John's a damn lucky bastard.

The food I put in front of them disappeared faster than it took to put in front of them and then I got Sam cleaned up for the third time in as many hours.

I was just re thinking about their bunking up stairs when Sam raises his shirt up exposing his teddy bear shaped belly and slaps it once then twice with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes saying, "do ya think the tickle monster heard that?" to his brother.

Dean interrupts his cleanup to look over at the smiling child and quirks Sammy a grin and says, "Dunno, Sammy did you just play the tickle drum?"

The little guy is on the verge of a giggle fit and he smacks his pudgy hand across his bare tummy again this time in a staccato rhythm,"shmackity-shmack, shmackity-smack"

And takes off running and giggling from the room with Dean in hot pursuit shouting, "Ohhh Nooo here comes the tickle monster!"

Shrieks of laughter erupt from the other room amidst pretend growling and deep chuckles as the 'tickle monster captured his prey and tussles it to the ground. All I can think of is the beaker filled with half finished Zombii anaesthesia sitting on the table in the room they just took off to. That stuff is potent enough to drop a hungry Zombii in its tracks and leave it in a deep coma till you can git the thing re buried and I shuddered to think what it'd do to a living child.

"CON SARN dammit-BOYS STOP! No running! Freeze, don't move a muscle!"

And I come barreling around the corner and found them on the floor away from the table frozen in mid motion and wide eyed lookin' back at me like two deer's in M' headlights.

I felt myself breathe a huge sigh of relief and sink my back agains the door sill. Then I took a deep breath and told 'em "This ain't no play ground in here, I got dangerous potions and loaded weapons of all kinds in here so don't tip over anything, spill anything or touch anything-you hear me!"

"...yes sir" they both said kinda meek like and I felt like a turd for yellin' at them, but better they have hurt feelings than no feelings at all...and shuddered all over again. I resolved to make the house as kid proof as I could if I had to work all night. Consarn John and his sudden favors.

"Look, I was gonna have you bunk upstairs but I think the best thing would be to have you two stay downstairs in my spare room off the back hall." I could close the study room doors and keep 'em outta there and the worst they could git into would be the kitchen, the library or livinroom.

"Boys, follow me." I grabbed the back pack from the corner and we went down the back hall. As soon as I opened the door to the spare room the amount of clutter I'd been letting pile up in there seemed a lot more that I remembered. More books, big empty boxes, small boxes with "ingredients" in them that had been shipped in from all over the world, a set of shelves with spare car parts and some where under the bags of winter clothes and other debris was a double bed and a chest of drawers.

"Huh."

Sam looked up at me and said, "Kin we make a fort outta the boxes?"

"Huh." Lemons to lemonade, the little guy had a positive attitude I tell you what and I smiled down at him. "You two do that," I grabbed a roll of duct tape offa near by shelf and tossed it at Dean. The kid caught it and grinned back. They started to erect the fort on one side of the room and I took to clearing the stuff out I they didn't need to be messin' with.

Several hours and a break for PBand J sandwiches later they had a respectable bedroom sans clutter, if you didn't count the fort. I scrounged up sheets and blankets and pillows for their bed and their stuff from the back pack, which mostly consisted of toys and clothes for Sam, were unpacked and on the shelves or in the chest of drawers.

"Ok who wants to watch some TV before bed?" I asked them. They had gotten into their PJ's and both were looking about ready to drop but I figured the TV would lull 'em off ta sleep and I wouldn't have ta worry about them bouncing off the walls while I tried to get the downstairs child friendly.

Sammy yawned nodding his head as he did so. Dean smiled a sleepy smile at his brother sayin', "yer not gonna last till the first commercial.' And ruffled his hair.

"Will too...lasted longer than you before."

"Na huh."

"Yea huh."

"Na hu..."

"OK!," I sez, "doesn't matter who outlasts who as long as I out last ya both!"

And they giggled. Consarn 'em I hadn't gotten through this first night and I was already worn to the bone.

I made 'em a bowl of pop corn and microwave hot chocolate and set them up in the livinroom on the floor in front of the set then grabbed myself a beer and sat down on the couch behind them. Tuned the set to some cartoon network and began to enjoy the first swig of brew of the day when Sammy asked if he could sit up by me on the big couch.

"Fine." And the little guy scooted up beside me carrying the bowl of pop corn spilling a trail across M'lap. They both froze and he looked up at me with those puppy eyes again and I said, "S'ok beer and popcorn are a good mix."

Next Dean asks if he can come up too.

"Fine."

The older boy sips on his cocoa and hands Sam his mug and tucks into the popcorn bowl on the kids lap.

Sam can't hold the mug of cocoa and reach for the popcorn so he just smacks his lips at his older brother like some baby bird wantin' a worm and Dean starts putting a couple of kernals into the kids mouth for him every time he 'smacks'.

All I'm hearin' is slurp, slurp, smack smack, crunch crunch then it gets kinda quiet and I feel this small warm lump press up beside me.

I look down and Sam is slumped over onto M'side and Dean is slowly prying Sam's little fingers off in' his mug and finishes it for him then moves the popcorn bowl over to his own lap.

"He went out pretty fast huh?" I sez to the older boy.

"Yeah, he never lasts as long as he thinks he can." Dean answers still watching the TV.

"How long you usually stay up after he's out?" I ask.

Dean keeps his face to the screen but tells me, "When Dad's home I go ta bed same time as Sam, when he's gone onna hunt I stay up a few hours past. Listening, maybe Dad'll call or in case I might hear...sumthin'" and we exchange a look.

I nod at him and sip M'beer and we both stare at the insane toon on the screen both of us not really lookin', not really payin' attention just lost in our own thoughts. I hears a few more crunches and slurps then it gets all quiet like and pretty soon Dean's dropped off too.

I look at the boys faces in the flickering light of theTV and they just look so...so...small. Sammy's all warm tucked up next to me and Dean has his head flung back and mouth a little open and he's out, dead out and I wonder for the first time what it must be like for a boy his age to be on duty twenty four seven and I find myself hoping that for now, just these few days with me he can drop his guard just a little at least on my watch.