linda92595 (linda92595) wrote,

Blood Moon Rising Pt. End John/Bobby, EvilSam/John, EvilDean/John


“God, Bobby I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was you,” he said quickly. With a grimace John surveyed the other man taking note of the sizable swelling at his groin. Suddenly John stepped forward as if coming to some decision. Bobby watched through half-shut eyes. With an even more embarrassed expression the younger man took an unsteady step forward clearing his throat.


“Uh...I can. I mean one of them taught me to... I had never done it, but one of them made me. He said I was pretty good at it.”


With a grunt John dropped to his knees looking like a man who had no where to turn and who had chosen the lesser of two evils. He reached for Bobby’s boxers fingers working into the elastic waistband before the older man realized what he was doing. When John leaned forward taking a deep breath Bobby let out a surprised shout and jumped back.


“John, oh don’t have to do that. I mean, it’s not like I wouldn’t want it, but not now. It’s too soon. And I won’t ever expect you to do something for me that you don’t want to do. I want you, but when you’re ready. And if you decide that you aren’t ever ready that’s okay too. I’ll never hurt you, you understand?”


Shaking his head John rose to his feet. The itchy feeling was back in his throat and the hot burning tears were rising, unbidden, in his eyes. With a gulp he staggered back wanting to put some distance between himself and the other man so he could pull himself together, but without warning the storm broke. A harsh sob erupted and once the one was out John couldn’t stop the others that followed. His chest heaved and then Bobby was pressing John’s face to his shoulder rubbing his back and he couldn’t have stopped it for anything in the world.


They stood together swaying to a beat neither one of them could hear. John cried for the longest time and Bobby held him, rocked him gently and listened to the words the spilled out between gut-wrenching sobs.


Finally he stood back chest heaving.


“I have to find them, Bobby. They’re all I’ve got in the world.”


“That’s not true John. For all its worth, you got me.”


“You should walk way. I’m trouble, we’re trouble and you know it. Besides, you keep saying things like that and I’m gonna take it you mean something by it. That maybe you want me around or something.”


Bobby sighed he might as well push his luck a little.


“I love you John. Have for years and you know it.”


John flinched trying to pull away but the other man held him close. Bobby’s voice was tight as if he was having trouble breathing.


“I ain’t asking for anything back, John. I’m just saying I love you and I ain’t ashamed of it.”


“I know,” John said.


He tilted his head up a little turning so that he was close to Bobby’s face. Their lips were just a few inches apart and John wasn’t sure if he moved to the other man or if Bobby met him half the way, but the kiss was soft, sweet and oh so gentle. Bobby breathed in the scent of John’s breath still rich with the aroma of coffee and whiskey. They stood pressed together breathing in each other’s scent, until John realized that kissing probably wasn’t helping Bobby’s condition. John, himself, felt nothing, not an inkling of sexual desire. He wondered if he ever would again, and then decided that he couldn’t condemn Bobby to a life without sex.


Causally so that he wouldn’t startle the other man John slid his hand down until he could grasp Bobby’s rigid cock in his hand. He stroked up, twisting a little at the tip, just the way he liked to handle himself. Bobby seemed to like it too, because he groaned. John grasped the other man firmly through the thin cotton fabric and worked him hard. In a few minutes Bobby stuttered and groaned again and John felt warm, wetness spreading on the front of Bobby’s underwear. Panting Bobby reached out, but John sidestepped him, shaking his head.


“I’m okay for now. Just give me a little more time okay?”


“As long as you need, but you don’t have to do that for me. I’ve taken care of business myself before. I can do it again. You don’t have to do anything for me you don’t want to do, just remember that.”


“I will, but I want to do it,” John said with a gruff sigh. He leaned in for a kiss again, and snuggled into Bobby’s shoulder letting the other man pet him.


John woke early the next morning. Shifting he looked over his shoulder at the older man snoring softly on the pillow next to his head. A sad smile tugged at John's lips. In the last two weeks Bobby had been good to him. He shifted feeling a warm rush of emotion as he surveyed the other man. Rolling over John shifted close, laying a hand on Bobby's broad chest. The other man shifted snorting then opened his eyes.


Raising himself up John leaned across Bobby's chest and pressed a kiss to his lips. The older man lay still letting John control the kiss, letting him regain some control over his sexuality. John sighed working his tongue inside Bobby's mouth and only cringing a bit when the older man lifted his arms, pulling John into a tight embrace.


Bobby let John press against him, and was gratified to feel the hard length of John's cock against his hip. It seemed as if John was finally regaining some sexual desire. They didn’t do much more than kiss and grope at each other like fumbling teenagers going at it the first time. But the results were satisfying for them both. Afterwards they shared a shower and almost killed themselves trying to wash without falling over each other.


At breakfast John kept staring at Bobby then blushing and looking away when the older man caught him. Finally, Bobby cocked his head and smiled.


"You keep looking at me," he started and John blushed hotly.


"It's just that I never thought I'd want… that I'd feel that again. I don't know why but I have these dreams. I feel hands touching me in my sleep and I just want to crawl away and die. I don't understand it."


"Just give yourself some time, John. It'll come back to you. Besides you ought not to be in such a rush to remember"


"I need to Bobby. I need to remember so I can find my boys."



They left the house early in the morning two days later, Bobby driving John’s truck. The two men had spent most of the previous day going through the weapons in the box under the false bottom of the flat-bed. John made sure that they had several machetes and a couple of long hunting knifes with serrated blades for each of them. He was taking no chances, since both his sons had been prisoners of the vampires for almost three weeks now. He said as much to Bobby. The older man looked wary, but offered John a non-committal grunt in response. He knew John could track the vampires, but Bobby was sure that the other hunter was going to be in for one hell of a surprise when they caught up to them.


They started at the house that the vampires had been using for a nest when John and the boys had first tracked them. The house that Bobby had rescued John from after his kidnap and assault. Bobby was leery of going back into the place, but it was the best way to track the vampires.


The house was on the end of a dirt and gravel road, fairly isolated with no other structures close by. Bobby pulled the truck through the grass and around to the rear of the house, so that it would not be visible from the street. He climbed out clandestinely watching John out of the corner of his eye. The door was still unlocked hanging loosely on hinges almost torn completely out of the wall. The smell hit them as soon as they walked in the door and Bobby felt his stomach clench to the point he almost puked. There was no mistaking the rich, overly ripe scent of decomposing flesh.


The girl was still on the bed in the front bedroom, her arms lax, fingers still twisted into the bedclothes. Her skin was gray marbled with darker blue touched in places by green. Bobby didn’t turn her over, there was no point. She was bloated with gas and he didn’t really want to watch her stomach burst open spilling her intestines over the blood caked blankets. They’d have to burn her body; it was too dangerous to call the sheriff’s department to come pick her up. He felt sorry for the family she might have left behind, but what good would it do them knowing she was gone. They’d never have the satisfaction of seeing her killers brought to trial. That was something he and John would do for her, lay her to rest and give her the peace of bringing her killers to justice their way.


Carefully Bobby lifted the corner of the blanket tugging it up and around the girl's shoulders. When he had her encased in the bedclothes Bobby reached into the small duffle he had over one shoulder pulling out a canister of salt. He shook a fine sheet of white crystals over the corpse then ducked back out into the hall.


John was standing at the door to the last bedroom, the room Bobby had found him in. The younger man's face was sickly gray, covered in a fine sheen of sweat and Bobby was sure John was going to keel over. Taking a deep breath John pushed the door completely open then stepped into the room. He took one look at the rumpled, dirty bed and staggered into the corner dropping to his hand and knees. Bobby could see John's shoulders heaving as he vomited.


Trembling he rose unsteadily to his knees. With a grim expression John wiped his mouth on the cuff of his sleeve and turned to look at the other man. His face was twisted, eyes thin slits as if John wanted to force some thought out of his head. Then he slumped forward and Bobby caught the younger man by the shoulders. John all but climbed Bobby, clinging to him.


"They raped me…" he whispered. Bobby stroked John's back.


"I know, baby. I'm so sorry."


"Two of the male vampires. They took turns raping me, made me watch while they had sex with each other," John whimpered. "God, those bastards have Dean and Sammy."


Bobby frowned over the younger man's head. He patted John's shoulder glaring at himself in the mirror over the dresser shoved against the far wall. Silently Bobby cursed himself for being a coward. But John was still skittering on the edge of the truth, and damn if Bobby wanted to be the one who wanted to tell him. So he held John rubbing soothing circles on his back and muttering soft comforting sounds that bore no meaning.


The vampires had been pretty careful to take everything out of the house, especially anything that could tell a tracker where they were going. Except that they hadn't counted on John Winchester coming after them. Bobby thought that was stupid on their part since he was sure that Dean and Sam had been turned and were, by virtue of being Winchesters, already in charge of the pack.


John carefully avoided looking at the bed as he searched the room. The garbage cans were still full and he dumped the contents on the floor raking through them with the toe of his work boot. Something caught his attention and John stooped over fingers rapping on one thigh as he bent close. Under the assorted fast food wrappers, food that the vampires had brought him and the girl, until they had killed her, was a single slim volume of the local telephone book.


The pages were creased and well thumbed through but one page had been ripped from the book. John fingered the edges of the torn page. It was for residential listings. He picked up the book thrusting it out to the other man.


"I need a new copy of this phone book; you got one at the house?"


"Nope, but we can go by the local office in town."


They were seated at a diner half an hour later, John's fingers trailing down the columns of the page in the new book that matched the page one of the vampires had torn out of the copy in the house. He paused taking a sip of the coffee sitting beside his elbow. Pointing to the page John tapped several entries that he had circled in red Sharpie.


"Look, this is the page that the vampires tore out. It has some residential listings but here, in this section, there are several real estate agents listed. I think they were looking for a new place to hole up. For some reason they haven't moved on yet.


Bobby nodded and sighed to himself. If he was right about the boys being turned it was likely that the vampires hadn't moved on because Sam and Dean were trying to figure out a way to get John back, maybe even turn him if they had too. Although with Dean calling the shots, and Bobby was almost certain that Dean was calling the shots, he might want his Daddy back as a sex toy, and keeping him human would make John far more 'useable'.

And Bobby was also sure that Dean wouldn't want John turned for fear that, formidable as he was, John would take over the pack.


"Well," Bobby huffed. "There are four agents listed there. What do we do just go to each office and ask 'Have any creatures of the night come by later looking for an out of the way place to nest?’"


John shot him a look.


"No, we're gonna check each office and see if the nice real estate agents have a secluded country home for sale. They might be willing to offer up some address for prospective buyers."


Bobby made a sound low in his throat that was something between a growl and a sigh. But John was right; the vampires had singled out those agents for something, even if they had no intentions of buying the place they could still use it as long as the house remained vacant.


"What prospective buyers would that be?" Bobby asked reluctantly. He wasn't sure that he wanted John finding the nest. It was dangerous and it wouldn't sit well with the younger man when he finally had to face the truth. And, as much as he hated to admit it, Bobby didn't want this hunt wrapped up. Didn't want to lose the closeness he had with John, he wanted to keep the younger man by his side and in his bed.


The first real estate agent they visited was a tall, blond woman in her mid-forties. She was polite when Bobby walked in the door, and he grinned as she perked right up when John walked in. Her smile got impossibly wide as he settled in the chair and pushed a flyer for her office, they had gotten out of the newspaper, across the desk.


"Your ad said that you have some nice country houses, in secluded peaceful settings."


John shot her the patented Winchester million dollar smile, the one that dropped women in their tracks. Dean thought he had it perfected but he had nothing on the old man. Sure enough, the agent slid sideways in her chair making sure that her skirt was above the knee and rocked toward John. Bobby cleared his throat.


"Uhmm, ma'am, Johnny and I are looking for a house."


John picked up the spiel nicely. "Something in the country, not too close to town. Bobby and I are looking for privacy, and some peace and quiet."


"You and," the woman turned to the older man, "I assume you're Bobby? Excuse me you and Bobby are looking for a house together?"


"Somethin' wrong with that," Bobby snapped and she leaned back a tiny frown creasing her forehead.


"No, it's just unusual for two men to want to buy a house together in this day and age."


John blinked. "Is it?"


Bobby smiled. "I guess this ain't the kind of town for us, baby."


She flinched at the 'baby' as if something just dawned on her. Forcing a smile at the older man she turned to Bobby.


"Not necessarily we have several nice places, not large, but if it's just the two of you…"


"Well, that and the dogs."


"Still I have several places, do you want to follow me out to the houses?" She smiled that strained little smile again. John held up a hand.


"Can you just give us the addresses and we'll go drive by first. To see if they fit the bill. Have you had much interest in the houses?"


"It's funny that you should ask. I had two young men come in here a few days ago. They were looking for a country place as well. I showed them all three houses."



The first house was still, quiet and John could tell right away that the vampires had not chosen the place. It was too close to the road and surrounded by a lush, green lawn that left the house standing right in the open. They didn't even bother getting out of the truck.


The second house was more promising and Bobby agreed with John that it was worth the time to check inside. Bobby parked the truck and John was out on the porch before he could even get the door open. Kneeling down John picked the lock and pushed the door in.


The house was clean, no visible stains on the carpets or floors no lingering scent of garbage or dead bodies. Bobby was willing to write this one off as nothing except for John's intent examination of the tile entry way. He stooped over finally dropping to his hand and knees. That's when Bobby noticed it, a faint hint of red clay, and a fine powder on the floor beside the rug. John traced over the shape with his forefinger.


"This is it," he whispered. Bobby stooped over glaring at the smudge on the floor.


"How do you know, Johnny?"


"This tread on the sole of these sneakers matches the shoes that Sam had on the last time I saw him. And look at the size. Sam has big feet, size thirteen triple E. It was almost impossible to buy him shoes as a teenager."


Blinking Bobby shrugged minutely. John was one hell of a tracker.  He had no reason to doubt what the other man was telling him. Still, Bobby felt a shudder crawl down his spine. This was going down too fast for him. John wasn't nearly ready for what was coming.


Smiling John rose from his crouch at Bobby's feet. He slapped the other man on the shoulder. "We need to get back to your place for a little bit. I want to get this set up. Those bastards have my boys Bobby and I intend to get them back. But I want this thing to go down smooth."


Bobby lay on the grass on the hillside flat on his belly watching the house from a safe distance. Pulling himself to his knees he balanced on the balls of his feet watching intently as the other man started his downward climb to the back door. He and John had scoped out the place earlier that morning. The house was immaculately clean, but there were still traces that the vampires had been using it. John was able to find tracks, faint but visible in the bright daylight. Something the vampires would tend to overlook. The two men were going in the house after Sam and Dean. John had been stridently angry when Bobby even suggested that the boys might not be prisoners, and Bobby had a numb feeling deep in his gut that this was going to be anything but smooth regardless of what the younger man had told him.


John was flanking the house and Bobby could see his slow but steady progress toward the rear yard. Once John was in position both men were going in through the doors at the same time. It was more dangerous to enter the house alone, but they didn’t want the vampires getting out the back while they were making their way in through the front. Once the boys realized that John was coming after them, they would disappear.


Bobby picked up his crossbow in one hand; he had a machete on a leather thong over the other. The crossbow's steel tipped bolts were useless against a vampire unless he could decapitate it. But they were dipped in dead man’s blood and that would drop them in their tracks. He was also determined that he was not going to let John get anywhere near the boys until John realized they had been turned. Taking a deep breath Bobby rose from his crouch and slid silently down the hill.


The house was quiet, in the mid-afternoon the vampires would be sleeping. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t wake up. The front room was empty and John met Bobby coming through the kitchen to the back door.


John jerked his chin in the direction of the hallway leading back to the bedrooms. The first bedroom was occupied by two figures. There was a boy and a girl, about Sam’s age, sleeping on the bed. The girl was wrapped around the boy and both were too still, too silent, to be human. John nodded Bobby to the other side of the bed and the two men quickly dispatched the vampires. The absolute look of horror and surprise on the boy's face was almost comical, if his head hadn’t been rolling off the bed toward the floor. Bobby stooped letting the machete fall on the leather thong around his wrist and caught the head before it could hit the floor. Quickly he tucked the head onto the bed beside the still twitching body and followed John out the door.



The second room held only one vampire, a girl. She woke up just as John leaned over her and he clamped his hand over her mouth before she could scream. Her teeth sliced into his palm and John’s breath hissed out of his body in one long breath but he didn’t make a sound. Raising a fist he brought it down against her cheek with bone-crunching force. There was a snap and her head jerked around at an odd angle. Bobby stepped up to the bed and raised the machete. The spray of blood from her neck was thin and sluggish as if she had not been feeding, and he wondered if she was newly made. It was hard for the fledglings to fight off the older vampires when food was scarce.


That left John’s boys and Bobby dreaded this moment more than anything he and the other man had done that day. The last bedroom was swathed in shadows, the bed pushed into a small niche between two windows, but the curtains were drawn against the sunlight, and it was hard to see. There were two forms on the bed, both male from the length of the bodies, and the breath of the shoulders. Bobby knew them instantly and he looked over at John. Before he could move the younger man had dropped the weapon he was carrying and knelt down beside the bed.


“Sam, Dean,” John said quickly. The two forms on the bed untangled themselves and both younger men rolled over. Sam looked at his father with a wide-eyed innocence that Bobby felt dig into the pit of his stomach. The stench of decay was on both the boys, the smell of decomposing blood, and it revolted the older man. John seemed to be ignoring it as he pushed at Sam trying to get his younger son up and off the bed. “Boys you’ve got to come with me…”


Sam smiled up at his father.


“You alone dad?”


He jumped, startled, when Bobby stepped out of the shadows.


“I don’t think so boys. Not this time.”


Hissing out a curse Dean leapt off the bed, trying for Bobby’s arm. The older man sidestepped, dropping the machete and brining the crossbow up. The bolt was badly aimed and for one minute Bobby was sure that he had missed Dean, but the younger man yelped and staggered back a step. He swung on Bobby knocking the older man down, as he disappeared out the door.


John frowned.


“Bobby, what the hell? That’s my boy you’re shooting at.”


“It ain’t anymore John. Believe me.” But Bobby could tell he was never going to convince the other man. He shrugged, “I’ll go check on him.”


Following Dean he charged out of the room and down the hall. He all but stumbled over Dean’s body lying in the floor of the living room. The dead man’s blood had kicked in and Dean was gasping weakly, barely moving. Casting a glance down the hall Bobby groaned. This was gonna kill his friendship with John, but in good conscience Bobby couldn’t let the boy live. He raised the machete.



Sam sat on the bed staring at his father with hooded eyes. John still had the machete in his hand, but he was wavering. Somewhere deep in his mind John knew that this ‘thing’ in front of him was not the baby boy his eldest had carried from the fire.  But the face was still Sam, still the young man John had argued with for years, still the young man he had worried for when he was gone from their life.  Was still his last tie to the life he had loved and the woman he had mourned for twenty-three years. With a grin Sam rose to his full height, reaching out to stroke his father’s cheek.


“Don’t hurt me, Dad.”


The soft whispered pulled a groan from John’s lips. The machete felt heavy in his hand, and he looked at it. It was an ugly thing, still dripping blood. How could he have thought he would need to use this against his son? Not his baby, not his Sammy.


With a grimace, which might have passed as a smile, Sam slid forward. His long fingers crept down John’s arm, reaching for the weapon. John cocked his head looking down, watching his son’s every move.


“Daddy, don’t worry it’ll all be over soon,” Sam hissed. John flinched; the words drilling themselves into his brain. With a half-strangled shout he raised the machete. The blade arced through the air, and blood splattered the wall behind the bed.


Bobby heard John’s shout and his mouth went dry. Tossing the crossbow into the hall he ran towards the bedroom door. The bed was empty when Bobby rounded the corner. There was a body lying on the floor and John was seated in the floor, back against the bed, rocking slowly.


Bobby cringed looking at the bundle in John’s arm. He knelt down hand resting on John’s thigh. The younger man flinched then turned his head slowly. Not looking down at his chest John shuddered and rocked his arms again. Bobby reached out terrified that the other man wouldn’t let go.


“Baby, please can you put that down.”


“It’s just Sammy. That’s all Bobby, just Sammy.”


“Please, for God’s sake, John put it down.”


John frowned down at the bundle in his arms. His shirt sleeves were bathed in blood and the matted hair fell over the stained fabric. With a grunt John put the head down beside the body and fell silent. Bobby nudged him and John rocked slightly then sat still. With a grimace the older man tugged on John’s arm, and he moved rising to his feet without a sound.


John stood silently in the kitchen while the other man dragged the bodies from the back rooms. He watched without a sound as the last two were placed beside the others. Bobby panted but didn’t say anything as the other man stood unmoving in the doorway. When he had the bodies all placed close together, heads tucked neatly under their arms he moved John toward the kitchen door. Bobby pushed John out the door, and was afraid the other man might not leave. But John shuffled forward and sat quietly in the truck watching Bobby with unblinking eyes.


By the time he had salted the bodies and doused them in lighter fluid the sun was fading from the sky. John still hadn’t said a word; he was still perched in the truck eyes on the house. He didn’t even look away when the flames broke open the windows, shattering glass and wood alike.


The trip back to Bobby’s place was made in utter silence. He bundled John into bathtub and washed him, running the water over and over again. When John was clean and dry Bobby tucked him into bed without even bothering with clothes.


The lights were off and Bobby was resting beside the younger man when John turned toward him.


“Did you get the vampires?”


“Yeah, Johnny, I got them.”


“Good,” John said curling up beside Bobby like a giant cat. Bobby pulled the other man into his arms. “Did you see the boys?”


“Johnny?” Bobby asked frowning.


John shuddered, “I thought…I thought that maybe you’d see the boys at the house.”


“I did, John. You know that,” Bobby swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. “John the boys are gone…you know that too.”


“I know,” John said with a frown. “But they could have at least come by to see their old man before they went.”


“Johnny…” Bobby paused. There’d be time for that later. If this was how John wanted to play it now Bobby was willing to do anything to get him through the night. He shifted sliding an arm under John’s shoulders. The younger man rolled over looking at Bobby sleepily.


“Bobby, can you just hold on to me for just a little bit.”


“All right Johnny. I can do that,” Bobby whispered. “Everything’s gonna be okay. Just hold on to me. We got all the time in the world.”




Bobby sat on the front porch of the house watching as his lover puttered around in the garden. It was early spring the best time for setting out roses, his mother used to put out her rose bushes in spring too. It was a sort of rite of passage in the Singer household. Now the Singer clan numbered just one, and some days he felt mighty old.


John had turned out to have quite a green thumb, and the entire front of the house was surrounded by tall foliage, roses and shrubs, and some other flowers too. But mostly it was the roses; Bobby had never had the heart to ask John why he chose the delicate blooms. They were hard to grow and needed a lot of love and attention. Then again John had nothing else to do these days. And at least he was up and around.


If anyone had told Bobby that the vacant shell of a human being he had dragged back to the house would ever be half-way normal again he would have laughed in their face. But watching as John bent, hands turning the loose soil with such tender care, the older man felt satisfied. Occasionally he worried about what was going to happen to John when Bobby passed, but he had a few good years left in him so that thought slid away to hover just in the corner of his mind.


John rose, bending over to brush the dirt off the knees of his jeans. He settled on the porch swing beside Bobby grinning at him. Nodding to the freshly planted bushes the older man sighed.


“They look good in that spot. I’m glad you planted them there.”


“Yeah, me too. I’m starving what have we got for lunch?”


“I don’t know. Why don’t you get washed up and I’ll fix up something.”


John looked at the dirt under his fingernails then frowned. A shadow crossed his face and Bobby held his breath waiting for the explosion of despair, but it never came. Instead John merely stood up and opened the door. Bobby walked across the room watching his lover pause thoughtfully.


“Hey Bobby,” John said at last. “Do you suppose the boys will come by tonight?”


Bobby stopped in his halting progress toward the kitchen, “John, you know that the boys are gone. We talked about that.”


A shadow crept across the younger man’s face, as if he recalled the conversation. Bobby tracked the progression of emotions as John summoned the information and cast it away. He started to call John on it, made a noise of disapproval in the back of his throat, but John blithely ignored him.


 “What are we going to do this afternoon?”


They didn’t hunt anymore. In fact Bobby had spent most of the time as John recovered from that last hunt, cleaning all his books out of the house and storing them or giving them away. There was nothing that made even the remotest references to demons or supernatural creatures in the house now, except that one devil’s trap on the ceiling, and John never looked at it. Bobby couldn’t say he missed it. He and John cooked, cleaned house, argued, and made love like an old married couple. And that suited Bobby just fine. They were happy. Well, John was oblivious, but Bobby was happy. And he thought that John was as happy as he could be under the circumstances.


“Oh I don’t know. Maybe go to the movies, or maybe go for a long drive. You want to go down to the lake for a bit, take a walk? There’s nothing in particular we got to do. Maybe I’ll just take you back to bed and love on you a little. How about that?”


Smiling John disappeared into the bathroom. Bobby was seated at the kitchen table when he appeared at the door. John dropped into a chair looking at the bowls of steaming soup and sandwiches that Bobby seemed to have made in seconds. Of course his mind wandered a bit, now and then, so he supposed he could have taken longer in the bathroom than he thought. They ate in silence for a while before the younger man finished the last of the soup.


 “Dean really loved your soup. Both the boys were always happy to come by here.”


“Well, I loved having ‘em here too. Even if their Daddy was a pain in the ass most times.”


John cast a glance at Bobby while poking at the sandwich. “You didn’t put pickles on it did you?”


He chewed thoughtfully for a few minutes then smiled a little vacantly at the other man.


“Bobby, you suppose the boys will come by tonight?”


Swallowing hard Bobby looked down at his plate then shrugged.


“Don’t know for sure Johnny. You know how it is, hunting’s a hard business. I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”


“I guess, they might not come at that.” John frowned looking out the window. It seemed as if he was forgetting something. The memory hung just out of his reach but he brushed past it, not really wanting to linger, not really wanting to shake the dark thought loose. Instead he looked over at Bobby who seemed totally absorbed in his food. John hoped he wasn’t mad at him.


 “Did I ever tell you I brought Mary roses when the boys were born, pink for Dean and yellow for Sam.”


“No you didn’t Johnny. Why don’t you tell me all about it?”


The End



Tags: au, fiction slash

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