Summary: Bobby POV. Dean gets whomped, Sammy gets protective, John gets bad-ass and Bobby gets a shot at setting something right. Hurt/comfort, angst in spades. Concluding chapter 7.
Rating: PG13, T (harsh language)
Wordcount: approx. 13,000
Pairing/Characters: Genfic, no pairings. Bobby Singer, Dean, Sam & John Winchester
Spoilers: Minor, none beyond 2.22
Disclaimers: See my profile page
A/N: Major thanks and kudos again to pdragon76 for the awesome and jiffy quick beta and to Heather03nmg for the equally quick and detailed medical info. And to Erinrua. . . hey, pard, you know I'm much obliged ;). These ladies are all made of awesomeness, as are Jennie and Penny for their help with every story I work on. Lastly, to moondropz and gatorpez, thank-you both for helping to keep the love alive with all your inspirational goodies. I've dedicated Dean's lumps and bumps to you. To all those who sent your lovely feedback or put this story on alert, thank-you for letting me know that you've enjoyed this story.

Family, Faith & Certitude
by May Robinson

"Thanks, Bobby." Accepting Bobby's offering of freshly made coffee, Sam yawned wide enough to pop his jaw, then gave Bobby a salute with the nearly full mug he'd been handed.

"Careful, it's hot." The kid was done in, in need of the simple warning. Bobby stayed standing, about to hit the hay, for how long he wasn't sure. Knew it was futile but decided he'd suggest the same to the kid anyway. "You know, you could go on back to bed. Call it a night. I'm honestly sure Dean'll be fine if he sleeps through now 'til morning."

The boy was shaking his head before Bobby'd finished saying it. "No. It's only for a few more hours anyway. Dean'll be pissed but I'm gonna keep it up for a while. See how it goes." Taking a swallow of java, Sam set it on the armrest of the chair he'd claimed once Bobby had gotten up from it. Bobby was glad for that at least. It'd be a helluva lot more comfortable for the kid's back, might even lull him into getting more sleep.

Reaching across a soundly sleeping Dean, Bobby grabbed up one of the extra blankets Ellen had placed on the back of the couch, then tossed it over the back of Sam's chair. Just in case he decided to be sensible and give up his vigil. "Well, suit yourself then. I'm gonna turn in though. You want me to spell you again in two?"

"No, that's okay, Bobby." Turning back to Dean, Sam lightly tugged the blanket up higher on Dean's chest, absently smoothing it flat before leaving his hand there to rest above his brother's heart. "We'll be fine here."

All Bobby could do was nod. Throat constricting, caught up in the raw emotion he could feel coming from the boy sitting vigil next to his brother, and memories slamming into him of another vigil from just the other night. Another grieving brother's dismissal. "Okay, Sam. You know where--" Damn near choking on the familiar words, he amended them. "I'm just down the hall. There if you need me."

Sam's attention was all on Dean, so Bobby bade him good-night, moved to leave. Hadn't quite made it out of the room when, "Hey, Bobby?" stopped him cold. The voice sounding small and so damn young.

"Yeah, Sam?"

Looking at Bobby now, he asked, "You said you and Dean were reminiscing earlier? About what?"

Bobby sighed then, leaned against the wall. "You boys and your dad mostly, Sam."

Sam bowed his head and Bobby could see, even from across the room, how hard the boy's Adam's apple was working just to get out what it was he wanted to say. And when they met gazes again, Bobby could see the room's lamplight reflected in the watery shimmer of Sam's eyes. He was smiling though. Sadly. "That was really something, wasn't it? Dad climbing his way out of hell. Getting out in time to save Dean." Shaking his head, amazement crossing his face when he continued. "I mean, can you believe that?"

Bobby smiled too. Thought about all the crazy, unbelievable things he'd seen over the years, then thought about John and his love for his boys. It made his answer an easy one. "Yeah, son, I can."

This time Sam even laughed a little, though when he spoke, it was with a quiet intensity. Bobby might have even said resolve. "I'm going to get Dean out of this deal, Bobby. This time, I'm going to save my brother."

Oh, yeah. Definitely resolve.

Bobby didn't want to give the kid platitudes, didn't want to give him false hope. Didn't want to burden him with any more responsibility than he was already shouldering, but found himself saying the words anyway. Not to patronize or to comfort, but said with every ounce of faith and strength and certainty Bobby held in his heart.

"I know that, Sam. If there's a way, you'll find it. No doubt about it."

Because if there was one thing Bobby had learned over the past twenty years, it was this. If anyone could save a Winchester, it was going to be another Winchester.


Thank-you for reading!