Bobby Singer (youidjit) wrote in drinkingdjinn, @ 2009-04-24 02:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | dean winchester, john winchester, john/dean, sam winchester |
Episode 0x05 - Everyday Monsters
Who: John Winchester, Bobby Singer, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester
When: Late 1997
What: Bobby finds out about Dean and John.
Where: Bobby's House, South Dakota
Dean gets everything ready for bed, which mostly involves making sure Sammy has done everything he should, not that he has to worry much about that. Sammy's a good kid, and gets everything done he needs to. He sends him to say good night to John and then upstairs, before going into the living room himself, bag slung over his shoulder. "Need me to do anything, Dad?" he asks, looking around to see if there is anything he should pick up here.
Sam, despite protests, got a big bear hug before John sent him off to bed. Dean... nnh, Dean should know that's a dangerous question to ask. "Not tonight, I don't think," he answers, a little regretfully, his eyes wandering slowly over Dean's body. Despite a very successful hunt, John can't give his usual reward, not in Bobby's house. "C'mere, though." He gestures for Dean to come sit by him on the couch for a moment.
Dean nearly flushes, realizing what that sounded like, but manages to hold himself together, sitting down beside John. He glances towards the kitchen, but Bobby still seems to be banging around in there, giving them a few moments. He almost wishes they were in a hotel, the way John looks at him, though he likes Bobby and being at his house.
John teases his fingers over the back of Dean's neck, leaning in to murmur against his ear, "When we get a chance, I promise. I told I would, every time. And I will. We just have to wait a little on this one." His fingers itch to touch Dean, so he strokes a hand over Dean's thigh, just for a bit of contact before they have to go their seperate ways.
"No problem, sir..." His breath catches when John's fingers touch his thigh. He licks his lips, daring a quick kiss to John's cheekbone. "I guess I should go make sure Sammy's gotten to bed..."
"Yeah..." He means for it to be a quick kiss, but John's lips linger a little too long against Dean's, his fingers wandering a little too high. Jesus, Bobby could come back any second, but John can't quite help himself. This is getting dangerous, this thing that has he and Dean, and he should try harder to get a hold of himself.
Dean cannot quite hold back a moan, but he tries to muffle it, leaning in closer. He nearly suggests something silly, like going out for the night, claiming a father-son night out and hitting a hotel, but he stops himself, embarassed by his eagerness. He thinks he should have a better hold on himself, as well, but he loves being kissed by John a little too much.
And that moan almost undoes him. He'd do it; he'd rent a hotel room for the night to be with Dean, to feed this addiction he can't seem to shake. Or hell, find somewhere to park the truck. It's insane, but he needs this. It's a reward for himself, too. He's rid the world of a little more evil. Protected his boys for one more day. He gets to have this.
He has to stop, before he just pushes Dean down onto the couch and -- God, no. He breaks the kiss, extremely reluctantly, squeezing Dean's knee in apology.
Dean gives him an awkward, apologetic smile, getting up before things get to the point where he cannot anymore. He shrugs his shoulders as if he is not sure what to do, before picking up his bag again. "I'll see you in the morning, sir?"
"Yeah," John nods, clearing his throat and rubbing at the back of his neck, trying to calm down. "See you in the morning. Good night." That was a bad idea -- just. Bad. They can't do that again.
Dean gives him one last look and obediantly trudges up the stairs.
"What the hell was that?" Bobby is standing in the doorway, two beers still in his hand, looking at John with a stony expression.
"Jesus -- " If John had had his gun on him, Bobby may well have been shot. "Don't sneak up on me like that, dammit," he sighs, leaning forward with his head in his hands. This is why he needs to control himself better, control Dean better. He never wanted Bobby to know.
"It's my house," Bobby mentions smoothy, putting the beer down well away from John. "Now I'm going to ask again: what the hell was that?"
"Doesn't matter what it is. You don't need to know." He stands, not wanting to face Bobby right now. He can't even begin to think how to explain this; he can't even make it make sense to himself, let alone Bobby.
"I think I do." Bobby grits his teeth, taking a step closer to him. "You're in my house, kissing that boy. I think I deserve an explaination for several reasons."
"It's none of your damn business!" John snaps, clenching his jaw and his fists, trying to keep quiet so as not to disturb the boys.
"If you're hurting that boy, it is." Bobby knows he should not play favorites, especially with someone else's kids, but he likes Dean, and he has never agreed with John on the way he treats him. This is just a step worse, and makes him feel like he should step in and stop it, for the kid's sake.
"I'm not hurting him. If I thought I was, it'd stop." Though he's not sure how true that is. "He -- " He what? Asks for it? That doesn't make it any better. So John says nothing, grabbing the few things of his left to be packed and shoving them into his duffle to avoid looking at Bobby.
"Would you?" Bobby scowls at him. "What the hell are you thinking, Winchester?" This disturbs him to his core, and he cannot hide that.
"Doesn't matter what I say, I'll be the bad guy." He throws his bag over his shoulder, finally turning to face him. "You want me gone, I'll go. But the boys are coming with me."
"John-" He wants to grab him and shake some sense into him, but he knows it would probably take a mallet and a chisel to get anything through that hard skull of his. "What's gotten into you?"
"Like I said, it's none of your damn business." John squares his shoulders, looking Bobby straight in the eye this time. He wishes something like this didn't have to cause such a rift between he and Bobby, but when it comes down to it, John puts his boys above anyone else.
"Fine, I'll go ask him myself." He turns to head towards the stairs, angry. He does not want to believe that John would really hurt Dean, especially not like that, but it is not something he wants to take a chance on.
John drops the bag and grabs Bobby's arm, pulling him back. "Don't you dare. You have no right to talk to him about this -- any of this. It's between him and me and you don't need to be a part of it."
"Like you've got a right to do this to him? He's a kid, John, even if he wasn't your own son!" Bobby tries to stay quiet, but his voice is threatening to grow into a yell. "Is the fact that he follows you around and takes orders like he's a rottweiler instead of a boy not enough for you?"
"He's old enough to know how to tell me no." He shoves Bobby against a wall, gripping the front of his shirt. "I love my boys. I will do anything to protect them. I would never. Do a thing to hurt either one of them. You understand that?"
Bobby grabs John's wrists, but his tone softens. "You honestly think he'd ever tell you no, John? He loves you too damn much for that."
John twists out of Bobby's grip, taking him by the shoulders and slamming him against the wall again. "You think you know my boy better than I do?" he growls, digging his fingers into Bobby's shoulders.
Bobby shoves him back, barely resisting the urge to throw a punch, instead glaring up at him from underneath the brim of his hat. "I think you're damn blind, is what I think!"
He stumbles back a halfstep, staring hard at Bobby before swinging a punch at his jaw. "I don't give a damn what you think," John spits, shaking out his hand a little as he steps back.
Bobby does not move fast enough to block it, so he is left wincing and rubbing his jaw. "Maybe you should start leashing your pride a bit before you ruin yourself and your sons with you," he snarls, ready for another blow.
By now, John's gone passed embarassed and ashamed and is just plain angry. He swings again, wanting to take his frustrations out on something, and Bobby's pissing him off enough to make himself a good target.
Bobby blocks that blow and returns it with one of his own, trying to say or do something that knocks some sense into the man. "Christ, John, what would your wife think, if she were here?"
It takes him a moment to process what Bobby says, still reeling a little from the punch. When it sinks in, he can only stand there for a moment, shocked that Bobby would even bring up something like that. His anger pushes through the shock and gets him moving, tackling Bobby back against the wall. "You son of a bitch."
Bobby fights him, trying to get him off, before grabbing the front of his shirt and ending up just shaking him as best he can. "You dumbass! She'd claw your fucking eyes out if she knew what you were doing to her son. It isn't right, John, and you bloody know it!"
John fights tooth and nail, struggling to get free and beat the shit out of Bobby at the same time. At the sound of a quiet, frightened "Dad?" from the top of the stairs, John jerks up to see Sammy standing there, clutching the railing and staring at them, wide eyed.
Bobby pushes John away while he is stunned, and is about to speak when Dean comes out, disturbed by the noise and missing Sammy. He looks at the state of the two below them, and grips Sam by the shoulders. "- we should go back to our room," he suggests.
Bobby turns to look at John, jaw set into a firm line. "If you're not going to wisen up-" He lets that hang.
Sam huddles himself against Dean, grabbing his hand. John looks from his boys back to Bobby. "Or what? You're going to threaten me in front of my kids?"
Bobby picks his shotgun up off his rack and trains it on John, causing Dean to jump. "Yes, yes I am. You're gonna be leaving, and if your boys want to go with you, they best get their things."
"Bobby-" That comes from Dean, looking scared himself, glancing between the two of them.
John swallows hard, glaring daggers at Bobby and taking a step back. "Boys, grab your things. We're going. Now." He picks up his bag and slings it over his shoulder, not looking away from Bobby for a moment.
"- come on, Sam." Dean quickly ushers Sam back to their room to get their things.
Bobby does not move the shotgun, looking at John without pity.
"That's how it's gonna go, then? You chase me and my boys out of your house with a gun?" He feels a little sad, under all the anger, but he can't bring himself to admit that.
"I've dedicated my life to hunting monsters, John. I can't let one sleep under my roof." He wishes John would just wake up from whatever madness he is under, stop insisting on doing this. He does not want to chase him out, or the boys, especially not those poor boys; he would keep them here with him if he thought they would stay. But no, they were too damn loyal for their own good. John had made sure of that.
"Oh I'm a monster now?" John shouts up the stairs to Sam and Dean, "Boys! I said we're leaving, you'd better be damn well be in the truck before I go without you." With one last murderous look at Bobby, he leaves, slamming the door hard behind him.
Dean hurries out of their room, calling for Sam to follow him, giving Bobby a confused, hurt look; Bobby puts the gun on his shoulder with a sigh. "You don't have to go, you know." Dean looks baffled by the suggestion, looking back for Sam.
Sam runs after Dean, practically tripping over himself and crashing into his brother. He looks up at Bobby, confused and a little scared that they were fighting so badly. "But Dad said we're going..." He doesn't follow John as blindly as Dean does, but -- it doesn't seem right, to not be going with him.
Dean reaches out to steady him, biting the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, we're going." He looks at Bobby, not sure what he means.
Bobby sighs, then looks them both in the eye. "You boys take care of yourselves. And if you ever need a place to be where your daddy ain't, you come back here. Understand?"
Sam nods slowly, old enough to understand that something is very very wrong, but he's not sure what. Just that Dad and Uncle Bobby fought and now they're leaving, so it must have been horrible. "Okay," he nods again. "Thanks."
"Come on, Sam." Dean takes his hand, and pulls him down the stairs, giving Bobby one last glance before hurrying them out to John. He is used to John getting into fights with people, but he is disturbed that he got into a fight with Bobby, of all people. He thought Bobby and John would always be friends.
"It'll John sits in the car, engine running, staring out into the night, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. The second the boys are in the car with the doors closed, John's off, and Sam scrambles to get his seatbelt done up before he's flung into the car door again.
Dean turns around to help Sam, ignoring his own seatbelt for the moment, trying to give him a comforting smile before sitting back in the passenger seat, glancing over at John.
"- Dad? You - okay?" It seems like a stupid question, but he wants to figure out what went wrong so he can make it right somehow.
"Sure. I'm fine." John sighs, hating that he has to just -- yank his boys way like this. "You boys try and get some sleep, I'll stop in a few hours and get us a room." He needs to drive for a while, try to clear his head.
"Yes sir." He glances back at Sam with a look that means that he better pretend he is asleep, if nothing else, before curling up against the door, trying to sleep himself. He is kept up, though, by worry, continually glancing at John along the way.
Sam curls up against the door, shutting his eyes and pulling his coat over himself as a blanket. John takes a deep breath, gripping the wheel tighter and trying to think things through.
Dean eventually sits up and twists around in his seat again to check on Sam; it looks like the poor kid is really asleep, not just pretending. He is glad of it, sitting back and looking at John again, not even trying to fake fatigue.
"Hey," he says, gently, before reaching over and touching his shoulder lightly.
John jumps a little, startled by Dean's voice breaking through the silence. "Dean -- just go to sleep. We're an hour out of the next town, I'll stop there. Get us some rooms, we'll figure out where to go from there, okay?"
Dean pulls back, a little hurt. "I'm not really sleepy..." He says it apologetically, looking out the front. "Just want to make sure you're okay."
He sighs, softening a little, and nods tiredly. "I'm fine. We can talk when we get to the hotel, if you want. Don't wake your brother." He reaches over and squeezes Dean's shoulder, flashing him a quick smile.
Dean nods, trying to give him a smile, and tucking himself back against the door. "'kay." He turns his head to look out the window, instead, trying to get himself to fall asleep.
After John gets the boys situated in their room, he goes to his own room, next door. Just for tonight, he'd decided that two rooms might be best. So he doesn't look over at Dean and feel like the monster Bobby says he is.
Dean makes sure Sammy is covered up and well on his way back to sleep before going over to John's room, worried by the fact that he got another room, seemingly without wanting Dean there. He knocks on the door, wanting to at least check on him; after all, John said they could talk.
... goddammit. John shoves himself off the bed and pulls the door open, not saying anything, but nodding for Dean to come in. What he wants to do is curl up with Dean and kiss him until he forgets everything that happened tonight. But he knows he can't, knows he should just send Dean away again.
Dean walks in, shutting the door and locking it behind him. "Sammy's asleep..." He shoves his hands in his pockets, feeling awkward.
"Yeah? That's... good." He sits on the edge of the bed again, staring at his feet, not knowing what else to say. "You should try to get sleep, too. You and I can look for a new hunt in the morning, get back on the job."
"You- what happened back there?" He cannot help asking, both from curiosity and worry. He likes Bobby, likes him a lot, and he has been one of the few stable things in their life; he is afraid of losing that, after a life full of losing all the solid parts of existence.
"Nothing," he says, a little too quickly. "We just got into a fight, that's all. He -- said something that brought up some bad memories, set me off." He shrugs a little, know it's a hollow excuse but not wanting to tell Dean what Bobby saw.
Dean gets the feeling that John is exactly telling the truth, but he does not bring it up, moving to sit down beside him on the bed. "Will things be okay? After things cool off, you guys will start talking again, right?" He says it a bit hopefully.
John sighs and rubs gently at the back of Dean's neck, pressing a kiss to his hair. "Someday, sure. He uh..." He sighs, nuzzling against Dean's hair. "He doesn't approve of the way I've raised you boys. Said your mother wouldn't, either. It might be a while before things cool down enough."
"What?" Dean is offended for John's sake, and his hackles go up protectively. "But you're a good dad!" He has never actually stopped and wondered what his mother would think about all this, but she had to know they were all doing the best they could.
"I appreciate that," he sighs, smoothing his hand over Dean's hair and kissing his forehead. "Sometimes I wonder how good of a job I'm doing."
"I think you're great." There is absolute devotion in Dean's voice, and he looks up at him with unwavering affection. "So don't worry, okay?"
And it's that devotion and affection that scares John sometimes. "Dean -- you can always tell me no. If it's too much." He runs his thumb over Dean's lower lip, to show him what he means by 'it'.
Dean looks confused. but places a small kiss onto the pad of John's thumb. "Alright." He does not get how that ties into anything, or why John would think he would not want it.
"Good..." He sighs and rests their foreheads together, gently stroking his fingers over Dean's cheek, closing his eyes. This feels good, and though he understands Bobby's concern, he'd like to believe Dean could stop it, if he didn't want it.
Dean leans forward to kiss him softly, wishing that he could fix whatever was bothering John so much. Maybe he could comfort him a little, this way, if that was what John wanted.
John parts his lips a little, sliding his hand around to rest against the back of Dean's neck, letting himself fall into the kiss for a few moments, at least. He can let himself have this, just for a little while, before he goes to bed alone.
Dean puts his arms around him to hold him. He wishes it was not so hard to figure out what would make John feel better, but he tries his best.
This isn't fair, this shouldn't feel so /good/ but just holding Dean against him soothes and comforts him in a strange, twisted way he knows he should hate. He wraps an arm firmly around Dean's waist, his tongue brushing lightly over Dean's lips.
There, that is better. This he can do. Dean parts his lips, stroking a hand down John's back and leaning into his chest.
Dammit -- he can't do this. Not tonight, not when Bobby calling him a monster is so fresh in his mind. He presses one last kiss to Dean's lips before he pulls slowly away. "It's been a long night... we should both get some sleep. Go make sure your brother's okay."
A confused look crosses Dean's face, tinged with worry; he looks at John as if to figure out what he did wrong. Then he nods and it passes, or at least is well hid. "Alright. Good night, sir." He stands "Goodnight, Dean," John murmurs back, wishing he could pull Dean back and hold him again. But there are things he needs to think over tonight. Decisions he should make.
Dean walks out without another word, returning to his room in a state of confusion, wondering what he did wrong.