Disclaimer – Don't own so don't sue!
Author Notes – This chapter is dedicated to Dubhe666 who sent me a review and talked for a bit and, amazingly enough, got me interested in this story again three years after I had practically given up on it. Can't promise that my interest will last but at least the story got another chance!
Chapter 5 – Bobby Singer
Have you ever confused a dream with life? Or stolen something when you have the cash? Have you ever been blue? Or thought your train moving while sitting still? Maybe I was just crazy. Maybe it was the 60's. Or maybe I was just a girl... interrupted.
- Susanna, Girl Interrupted
The drive to Bobby's felt like it took ages even though he arrived just after noon the same day. When he had decided that Bobby's was where he was headed he had not been all that surprised to notice that he had been unconsciously heading there all along and that the seemingly random rights and lefts he had been taking had all lead him towards that destination. Even in his shocked and confused state his subconscious had obviously know where the only safe-haven was.
Driving up the path towards the house Dean felt himself slowly relaxing for what was probably the first time since this whole mess started. Bobby's had always been kind of home, or at least as close to it as their life had allowed it to be, and since the world had just taken another turn to the crappy side it felt good to be here of all places.
He stopped right in front of the house and turned the ignition off, taking a moment as the Impala's rumbling faded out and the world went quiet around him. Scrubbing a hand over his tired face he then got out of the car and headed towards the door.
God, he was so damn tired. He had not slept since this mess started and now his limbs felt too heavy to move. Maybe he could just crash on Bobby's couch for a few hours and get some rest before he had to start and try to sort out this mess.
He was just about to step up on to the porch when the door opened and Bobby himself was standing before him.
Bobby and his shotgun.
Dean only had a split second to realize this before he had to throw himself out of the way as the gun went of.
"Woah, wait, fuck!" he screamed as he ducked down behind the car. "The fuck's wrong with you?"
Another blast went of and the passenger-side window burst in to thousnads of pieces.
"Bobby!" Dean yelled because, fuck, you do not fire at his baby. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Who the hell are ya and what the fuck are you doin' here you sonofabitch?" Bobby yelled back and when Dean raised his head to look over the hood of the car Bobby fired of another shot.
"Fuck!" Dean screamed and only just managed to duck again. "Stop shooting you blind maniac!"
"Who the hell are you?"
"Are you insane? It's Dean, I'm Dean, now stop shooting!"
Everything went quiet again and Dean took a moment to calm his speeding heart down before slowly looking over the hood again. Bobby was still standing there with his gun up and aimed but he did not look like he was going to shot this time so Dean slowly got up on his feet, making sure his hands were visible the whole time.
Finally getting a good look at the other man he was a bit surprised.
Dean knew that he probably looked like shit – he sure as hell felt like it – but Bobby did not look much better himself. The man looked like he had aged at least ten years and even if he had always been rockin' the scruffy style this was taking it a bit too far with several holes in his shirt and his hat looking dirtier than ever before. Dean was not always the cleanest of people but right now even he would not touch that thing with a ten foot pole.
"Well, aren't we looking nasty this morning," he said and tried for a smile but it felt more like a grimace on his face. "Gonna let me in anytime soon?"
Bobby glared at him and Dean did not think he appreciated the joke.
"I dunno any Dean."
Ok, so Dean was tired. He was tired and hungry and he had just sold out the world for a brother that did not want anything to do with him and the world was freaking shit and he really did not feel up for this right now. So the whole world had forgotten about him, peachy.
"Bobby, please," he said and scrubbed his face again. "I really can't deal with anymore shit right now."
It was silent for a moment and then he saw Bobby relaxing a bit. Oh, the gun was still up and aimed but he still looked a little less ready to actually fire.
"You the guy on the phone?"
Dean just stared at him in confusion and Bobby huffed in irritation.
"Got a message on the phone," Bobby started to explain. "Some crazy idjit blaming me for stealing a body or burning it or something. Sounded pretty mad about it. Called himself Dean."
And yeah, suddenly Dean remembered calling Bobby in a panic when Sam's body was missing and he had probably sounded a bit on the crazy side. It was not his best moment.
"Yeah, that's me," he said, too tired to really care anymore.
"Found the body, did you?"
Dean's answering chuckle was anything but happy. "Turned out not to be as dead as I had thought."
Bobby regarded him for a second and apparently he found what he was looking for because with a sigh he lowered his gun. "Ya gonna come in or what?" he snapped before turning on his heal and walking in to the house.
Dean stared after him for a second before sighing and following after him.
He did not appreciate the water dumped on him the second he stepped over the threshold but he could not really say that he was surprised.
"Yeah, so not a demon," he said as he wiped the water out of his eyes but Bobby only hummed as he walked farther in to the room and sat down by his desk.
Dean followed after, purposely walking over the carpet he knew hid a devil's trap, and sat down on the worn couch.
"So who the hell are you then?" Bobby asked and took a sip of the beer he had pulled out of nowhere. Dean really wanted one too – heck, he fuckin' deserved one – but he did not think Bobby would appreciate him asking.
"And why the hell are you driving around in Winchester's car?"
That got a reaction out of Dean and he snapped his head up to stare at the older man. "You know Sam?"
Bobby huffed. "Every hunter knows Winchester. Not everyone knows what car he drives but I guess I'm just lucky like that." He took another swig of his beer. "Am I right in guessing he's the body that wasn't really dead?"
"Yeah, " Dean responded, still a bit in shock. "Yeah, he was."
Bobby nodded. "Pity that."
Dean could feel the weight settling in his stomach and he knew that he would not like where this was going. "What do you mean?"
The older man put his drink down and looked up at Dean. "Well, you were trying to kill him right?" When Dean only stared at him blankly Bobby frowned. "I thought you were a hunter."
It was more a statement than a question.
"I – I am," Dean said. "I, um, I guess I just haven't been informed about him."
Bobby stared a moment longer before shaking his head and picking up his drink again. He took a long swig from it before he started talking again. "Winchester's a rotten egg," he said and Dean had to bite his tongue to not defend his brother. "His dad was a hunter, a damn good one too, and the kid seemed ok at first. He was a bit on the quiet side and a bit jumpy but hell if I've ever met a kid smarter than him" He seemed lost in thoughts for a moment but soon shoke himself out of it and kept talking. "But there was something wrong with him. His dad, John, noticed it first but he did not say anything. Was afraid what would happen if other hunters found out. But shit went south fast and before we knew it John was dead."
Dean could not have stopped the gasp from leaving him even if he had tried. His dad had been dead for awhile now but it still hurt to think about him and the sacrifice he had made, damn it.
"Awhile later I got a letter," Bobby continued. "It was from John. He must have sent it just before he died." He took another swig of his beer. "Turns out the kid wasn't his. I'm not sure about the details but somehow he's part demon. Can walk through traps and holy water doesn't do shit but he's not human. John tried to raise him right but the kid turned bad and killed him anyway."
Dean could only shake his head. It was not possible. Sam was . . . Well, Sam. He was not some sort of demon. He was too nice, too gentle to ever be something that evil. And he would never kill dad. Not in a million years. They may have fought sometimes but Sam had still respected him and loved him and he could never have done something like that. They had got it wrong. Somehow the information had been twisted into lies. It had to have been.
(I can't bring Sammy back, but there might be another way.)
"No," he choked out and suddenly he felt like he was going to be sick. "No, that fuckin' bitch." He fisted his hands in his hair, squeezed his eyes shut, tried to shake the thought out of his head but it did not work. "What have I done?"
"What the hell are you talking about?"
He snapped his head up to stare at Bobby again. Bobby, the man who was like his second father but now did not know who he was, just like his brother, and shit the world really had gone to hell.
Or had Dean?
One thing was becoming clear. This was not about other people forgetting him anymore. This was about the whole world suddenly being different and somehow he was not a part of it.
God, he really fuckin' needed a drink!
"Bobby," he started and looked at the other man. "This is gonna sound crazy but I need you to listen for a moment, okay?" When all he got in response was a hard stare he took it as a yes.
"I messed up. Big time. Like, fucked the whole world up, kinda big time," he said. "Shit went to hell so I tried to fix, it even if you told me not to, but that just screwed it up even more."
"I didn't – " Bobby started but Dean cut him of with a wave of his hand.
"No, wait, just listen," he said. "Sam died. Some guy stabbed him – and if I ever get my hands on that fucker I'll gut him open – and he died in my arms. And I couldn't take it, you know, couldn't stand being the only one left so I had to fix it somehow and going to a crossroads-demon was the only thing I could think of."
He could see the flash of surprise in Bobby's eyes, saw him tense up, but he had to get it all out now because if he stopped he felt like he would never be able to again.
"She was a bitch, they always are, but then she asked me what it was worth and I told her the truth. Everything." He laughed but there was no humor in it. "And I got my deal. I got him back. Only it wasn't Sam anymore and he didn't even know me, and you don't either and the world is fuckin' crazy. Nothing's like it used to be and I don't know what to do anymore, Bobby."
"But even if it's all crazy I would do it again in a heart-beat. 'Cause Sam, I'd do anything for him, Bobby. Anything" He took a deep breath and tried to collect himself before he turned and stared Bobby right in the eye.
"I'm Dean. Dean Winchester," he said. "And Sam's my little brother."
He held his breath as Bobby snatched up the shotgun and aimed.