The First Time Bobby Met Dean

Fandom : Supernatural

Characters : Bobby, John, Dean and Sam (preseries)

Word Count : 1920

Rating : PG

Written for the prompt : Supernatural, Bobby and Dean, Bobby remembers the first time John brought Dean to the salvage yard

Disclaimer : All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

The First Time Bobby Met Dean

He'd been hearing rumors on the grapevine for a while, one John Winchester, ex-Marine had lost his wife to a demon and was doing the circuit learning all he could. It would only be a matter of time before he turned up at Bobby's door. The more people he met, the more Bobby heard about him and the more confusing the image became.

'One of Pastor Jim's' was normally a good thing, but when it was tempered with warnings of 'too intense', 'almost suicidal', it was a worry. Bobby knew what it was like those first few months and years when you find that something stole the most important person in your life, something you never even knew existed, something you couldn't protect them from. Time didn't actually heal the wounds, but it tempered the steel. Time taught a man that he could care to live again, that he could learn to protect and save and that he could save others from his own suffering and loss. It would never be enough, but it was at least something.

A year slid into two and the rumors were still rife; 'a strange one', 'watch your back with that one' and 'lost it when his wife died' or words to that effect. Yet still they were always overlaid with 'The Pastor is watching over him'. It was enough that when the phone call came, he agreed to help, asking what John needed before giving directions to the Salvage Yard and hanging up. It wouldn't take long to prepare, a banishing, simple enough when you knew what you were doing. He picked the phone up and dialled the Pastor's number, knowing it was time to hear more. What he heard was not what he expected.

Even the Pastor's words could not have prepared for the sight he was presented with when they finally arrived. It was late, so long past the time John was due that Bobby had gone to bed when there was finally a knock at the door. Stumbling down the stairs, Bobby pulled open the door to see a tall, dark-haired man, weary with his arms full of sleeping toddler. "Sorry, I'm so late. Got a flat in the middle of goddamned nowhere. You know what it's like I'm sure, trying to change one out with no light."

"Figured you weren't coming tonight." Bobby shrugged and stepped back, inviting John into the house. "Figured you'd be in touch tomorrow."

"Look, sorry about that," his tone was gruff, not as apologetic as one might expect from someone knocking on a door at one in the morning. "Can you point me to somewhere we might get a room for the night?"

"Happened to be talking to Jim and he said you'd maybe need a place to stay. It's not much but I've got a spare room." John nodded and finally stepped into the house and it was then Bobby noticed the second child. Older than the first, huge eyes that just drew you to them and made you want to take the kid in your arms and tell him everything was going to be okay. He had one hand fisted in his Dad's jacket and was stood half hidden but watching warily. "You and the boys need something to eat?"

"No, thanks though. Sammy doesn't do well if we don't keep him fed, ain't that right, Dean?" He looked down at the boy at his side, who nodded in reply but didn't look away from Bobby or ease his grip on his Dad's jacket. "Dean, this is Bobby, he's a friend of Pastor Jim." He shifted the weight of the toddler and let one hand settle on his son's head, ruffling the fine hair affectionately before gently trying to ease the boy forward. Dean was having none of it and rather than coming forward, he dug his heels in and turned further into his father's body. John sighed, then changed tack, "Okay, kiddo, you gonna get the bag from the car for me?" Dean just gripped on tighter.

"Why don't I show you the spare room and you can figure out how to make it work. I'm afraid I only have the one bed in there, but we could make up a . . ."

John cut him off as he saw the bed was a queen. "'s alright, thanks. The boys end up in with me most nights anyway. Dean has . . ." He cut himself off with a shrug.

"Can I help? . . . I dunno get your bag or something?" Bobby offered.

John's look was grateful as he tossed Bobby the keys and said, "Just the duffle in the trunk will do us, thanks."

Bobby headed out leaving the Winchesters alone, catching a few words as John attempted to coax his son into helping him with his sleeping brother. When Bobby returned, the bed was turned down, the youngest already curled in tight as John helped untie a knot in Dean's sneakers and talked reassuringly to the boy about how he was just going to have a quick chat with Bobby and then he would be back. Bobby watched as he took his watch off and showed the boy the time and pointing out the hands explained where they'd be when he came back.

"Bathroom's next door down," Bobby said as he set the bag down just inside the door. "I'll go put the kettle on. Kitchen's downstairs, first door on the left." He didn't fail to notice as Dean seemed to focus in on his words and seemed to think and put it together with what he'd already seen of the house, as if checking that he'd know where his father was. Bobby left them alone.

Down in the kitchen he could hear movement between the bathroom and bedroom and then it all went quiet and he began to wonder if John had been tired enough to fall asleep. He was just about to tidy up and head back to bed himself, when the floorboards creaked above him followed by the stairs and moments later, John appeared at the kitchen door. "I'm so sorry, man. Dean . . ." he fell silent again.

Bobby poured another cup of coffee, setting it on the table in front of John with a nod to the chair. He lifted across the milk and sugar before settling down with his own mug. "Long drive?"

"Long enough, believe me, Sammy doesn't do well cooped up in the car for long. Gets too restless. Dean's a good kid though, does his best to keep his brother occupied and quiet. Last thing we needed was the flat. Fortunately Sam fell asleep."

"They both asleep now? Little one sure looked like a bomb could go off without waking him," Bobby smiled.

"Absolutely. Sleeps through anything and everything that one, thank God! Look I appreciate the offer of letting us stay the night, but I should just warn you . . . Dean sometimes has nightmares, can be a little loud."

"Kid's been through a lot. Don't worry about it. You need anything else for them? Tomorrow's early enough to start on what you need for the job and you're welcome to stay a while if you want."

"Appreciate it. The Pastor said you were a good man, and that you knew a lot. I've still a lot to learn so . . . if you'd be willing, I'd –"

Bobby cut him off, "I'll help but not now and you need some sleep."

Days passed, John spent hours each day focussed on learning all he needed for the hunt and the boys had grown more confident in that they would sit and play quietly in one room while their Dad worked in another. They never strayed far from sight and Bobby was sure that if it weren't for Dean, their play would be a lot noisier as Sammy had little of his brother's reticence. The younger child was happy to toddle round, alone, shouting for attention or generally getting into mischief and mess. Bobby was at first terrified of what the little boy might hurt himself on, or what priceless text he might decide to scribble on, but the fear passed as he saw how closely Dean dogged his brother's steps, how adeptly he would divert his brother's attention without leading to the disgruntled yelling that John's swift action seemed to bring about on the few occasions he intervened before Dean.

By contrast with Sam, Bobby had yet to hear Dean's voice during the day. John had been right about the nightmares being loud, although he'd underplayed the 'sometimes'. From what Bobby could tell it was at least nightly, if not more than once a night. During the day though, Dean's confidence seemed to be growing a little in that he would approach Bobby, he'd even followed Bobby out into the yard while his brother was napping. With a smile, Bobby had pulled up a crate and lifted the boy onto it so that he could see inside the car that Bobby was tinkering with. He'd listened seemingly avidly as Bobby had told him about the workings of the engine. Bobby had begun to involve him more, asking him to hold different tools or pass him different things. Dean lapped up the attention, eyes keen and alert and as Bobby made a pointed effort to praise every time he helped, he was rewarded with a shy smile. The kid was a heartbreaker.

A day or two later and John announced that he was ready to move on and Bobby saw the flash of hurt in Dean's eyes, before it was quickly masked and Dean turned to his brother and everything was hidden again. Bobby wondered how much Dean was being damaged by not just the past, but by the fact that his father hadn't settled, hadn't given them the stability of a home, some semblance of normal in a damaged world.

"John," Bobby almost couldn't believe that he was about to say it, but the memory of those hurt green eyes, the need he'd seen in that little boy. "Why not settle here? We can fix something more permanent for you and the boys, give you a proper space, but maybe it would be good for them to be in one place."

"Thanks, Bobby. I really appreciate the offer. It's good to know that there are people like you around and I hope you'll be okay with us, maybe, dropping by again. I've still so much to learn and I really need people like you and the Pastor. We won't take you up on it just now. What the boys really need is for me to get the thing that killed their mom and so I guess we can't stop 'til I've done that."

Bobby would have said more, but Dean's head was tucked into his Dad's side, as John sifted his fingers through his hair. Love wasn't the missing factor, but John wasn't seeing the truth. He wasn't ready to hear it and Bobby knew he didn't know the man well enough to take him to task on it, not when he knew Jim already had, and had failed. His only hope was to leave his door open, get to know them better and hope that one day soon John would listen to sense for the sake of his sons.