A/N: As much as I adore Bobby, I think this is the first thing I've ever actually written with him in it ^.^ So yay for me stretching my comfort zone.

Disclaimer: I don't own Dean or Bobby or a yard full of cars in South Dakota


The squeaking floorboard announced Dean's presence on the porch.

"Hey, uh, about earlier-"

"Nothing to apologize for kid." Bobby interrupted with a sigh. " It wasn't anything you said. Just getting testy in my old age."

A twitch in his jaw betrayed they both knew that wasn't the reason, and Dean thought it was one of the biggest differences between Bobby and his Dad.

He couldn't remember a time, as an adult, when he had seen his father cry.

Dean put a tentative hand on the other man's shoulder, for a moment absurdly touched to be trusted with the site of Bobby's tears.

"Ain't every damn day you murder your wife."