Genre: Gen, pre-series
Characters: John, Bobby, Dean, Sam
Spoilers: None, really, other than knowing who Bobby is.
A/N: Huge thank you to lunardreamed, freelance and starrylizard for the beta.
Disclaimer: Own nothing, not being paid.
Summary: John's about ready to kill Dean and Sam (who are fighting), so he takes them to Bobby's. Now, if only he can convince Bobby to let them stay while he goes hunting. Dean 17, Sam 13.
"Bobby, I swear," John said as he stormed past, "I'm going to kill them."
Bobby followed John with his eyes for a few seconds – John's fists were clenched tightly at his sides – and then looked back to the cause of John's homicidal mania.
Sam was sitting in the front seat, if you could call what he was doing sitting, Dean was in the back – where he'd been relegated to since Sam had turned into Gumby – and there was a furious fight going on. As he watched, Dean flipped Sam over the front seat to the back and the fury of the fight picked up a notch. Dean's face squished against the side window as Sam briefly gained the upper hand and then there was just a flurry of limbs. Bobby shook his head as he turned and followed John back to the house. They could fight it out in the car – he didn't want any of his furniture wrecked.
John was slouched in a low armchair, his hands rubbing his face tiredly. "Jim wouldn't take them." He looked pleadingly - as much as John Winchester ever could - from behind his fingers.
"Me?" Bobby said, surprised. "I'm not looking after your hell-spawn, John. You made them, you deal with them."
"Just for a couple of days?" It was the closest to pleading Bobby had ever seen the man. "I can't leave them alone; they'll end up killing each other. I got pitying looks, pitying looks, from a lady in a diner the other day."
Bobby didn't tell him that he'd probably been getting those looks for years; Dean and Sammy Winchester seemed to bring that out in people. True, initially it would have been because people seemed to spot motherless boys a mile off.
"What did they do?"
John gave a half laugh, his shoulders twitching quietly. "Sammy called Dean a dwarf, so Dean 'accidentally' dumped his glass of coke down Sammy's front and announced to the world that Sammy had wet himself."
Bobby let the silence fill for him for a few seconds. "Well, that doesn't sound too bad."
John slumped back further into the chair. "That's the nicest they've been to each other in three weeks. My kids are brats."
"N-no," Bobby drawled. John raised his eyebrows in response. "Well, yes, they're brats, but they're also teenage boys, John. This is what teenage boys do. Just be thankful that there've been no injuries yet."
John looked away.
"Okay, be thankful that there've been no serious injuries yet."
John sighed. "Sammy just won't shut-up, to me or Dean. He talks back, calls Dean shorty or dwarf, and then Dean calls him sasquatch back and threatens to cut his hair. They can't pass within three feet without hitting each other. Dean hasn't filled out yet and, with Sammy's height, sometimes Sammy can pin him."
Bobby thought that they were finally getting to the heart of John's worry and frustration. "You worried he'll hurt Dean?"
John rubbed a finger across his lip. "When Dean was that age, he was sparring with me. I had the weight and experience vantage and held back. Dean, Dean doesn't really have much of either. He shows restraint with Sammy, but Sammy gets carried away now that he can finally beat Dean."
"And he might push Dean too far and he'll hurt Sammy, or Sammy'll hurt Dean," Bobby finished for him.
Bobby rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, John," he said slowly, "I think one of those two things is going to happen no matter what you do." He stood up and grabbed a bottle of whiskey off a shelf. "Might do Sammy some good to realise just how dangerous he can be; might make him grow up a little." He poured some whiskey into a glass and handed it to John. "You look like you need it."
John nodded in thanks as he took a gulp. The front door slammed and they heard voices moving towards the room they were in. Dean and Sam appeared in the doorway with a scuffle, Sam flipping his hair out of his eyes as Dean elbowed him in the ribs. Sam replied with a too strong shove before walking ahead of Dean into the room. "Hey, Bobby," he said. Dean followed him, nodding in greeting.
"Dean, Sammy," Bobby nodded, noticing the flicker of irritation in Sam's eyes as Dean's name came first. "How are you boys doing?"
"It's Sam," Sammy spat out quickly, his jaw jutting out in indignation.
"Sammy," John warned, his voice low.
Dean cuffed Sam on the back of the head. "Stop being a little bitch," he hissed.
Sam turned and punched him in the shoulder. "Stop being a jerk, Virgin Mary." He made no effort to lower his voice.
Dean flushed and shook his head, his nostrils flaring. "That's it-"
"Sam," Bobby interrupted. He waited until Dean had settled down and Sam had given him his attention. "Go and get yours and your brother's stuff out of the car."
Sam stared from him to John and back again when John made no movement.
"Now, Sam," Bobby said forcefully.
Sam sullenly turned and bumped purposefully into Dean before walking out the door. Dean looked curiously at Bobby.
"Go and say hello to the dogs," Bobby said quietly, jerking his head in the right direction. Dean nodded and silently left.
Bobby sank down into a chair after grabbing a glass for himself and pouring some whiskey into it. "Well, they're just a barrel of laughs," he said sarcastically. John snorted in response. "Virgin Mary?" Bobby continued. "I remember how that boy talked about girls at fifteen. Never figured he'd have problems in that regard."
John took another sip of his drink before cradling the glass in his hand. "Problem is, every time he's fallen head over heels it's been a cheerleader."
"Ah." Bobby nodded in understanding.
"He was told by one girl that there's no way she was going to slum it with a freak, another that he's 'too pretty'."
Bobby arched an eyebrow in surprise. "He tell you that?"
John took a final gulp. "Eventually." He stood up and placed the glass on a nearby table. "I assume since Sammy's bringing in their bags that my 'hell-spawn' can stay here?"
Bobby stood as well and smiled. "Well, I know how much Sam enjoys fixing cars, so he can help me out. And there's a few obscure and rare books that are just calling Dean's name. I'm sure that they'll both love that."
John rumbled with laughter. "I owe you one, Bobby. Dean and Sam know where I'm going. I'll see you in a week."
They shook hands quickly and John headed out the door.
"Be careful, John," Bobby called after him. "I'm not inheriting your hell-spawn."
He downed the last of his drink in one gulp. This was going to be fun.
A/N2: If you didn't catch the reference, Gumby was a claymation figure that was very tall and skinny with very long legs.