Supernatural Fic: Beer and Bad News
,Title: Beer and Bad News
Author: Anja
Rating: none
Spoiler: Pilot
Wordcount: 600
Warning: Un-Betad. Believe me, this IS a warning :-D
Disclaimer: Still nothing's mine, as usual.
Summary: There wasn't much he knew about the older Winchester but he knew, John never asked, he ordered. He never hoped, he wanted. And first of all, Sam's and Dean's old man never said Please. Never! Tiny oneshot about John's reaction in the pilot.
All mistakes are mine. I'd be rich, if they made money :-D. So don't sue.
*****
“Did anyone tell you, you're stubborn as a mule?” Bobby mumbled with a pinched look and adjusted his hat.
“Yeah,” The addressee answered but didn't look up. A loud banging noise and Winchester's head shot upwards, bumping against the hood of his car. Oh, that must have hurt. “Dammit! Gimme the cloth, would you?”
Without a word Bobby handed the wished object.
“Don' come back dead and whine about it, goddit?” Bobby said and finally got a reaction out of his companion.
“You can bet on it. Me dead? I'd haunt your ass from hell.”
Bobby shook his head but grinned. Taking a sip from the bottle of beer he let the cold liquid flow down his throat. He felt its icy consistence meet his stomach and let out a mighty burp, which made John throw him a disgusted glare.
“If you were one of my boys, I'd spank you to hell so we can meet there again.”
Bobby laughed.
Their amicable silence was broken by the old fashioned ring of the phone inside Bobbys house.
“Don't you wanna take that?” John asked, when Bobby didn't react after the third ring.
“Ah no,” He winked, shaking his head. “If it's important, he'll call again.” As if on cue the ringing stopped mid tone and silence reigned again. “See? He wasn't even very insistent.”
John shrugged and was about to bend over the engine block again, when a different ring started jingling. It was hushed, since it was buried deeply in the depths of Johns backpack.
“Does anyone know I'm here?” John asked, his face hard with apprehension and Bobby shook his head.
“No... wait! Yes. Jim does.”
The ringing continued and after a few seconds John seemed to come out of his numbness. The search seemed to last forever and when he finally found the mobile he stared at it, like it was the enemy, deluding him with his cheering sound. But Bobby could see it in John's eyes: He didn't expect it to be Oh sorry, wrong number.
His voice sounded strained when he said his name into the phone. His face, unmoving as stone, turned pale.
“When?” He asked and his eyelid started twitching while staring at Bobby. Staring as if he didn't see his friend anymore.
“No. I'm coming. Just... just keep an eye on them. Please?”
Bobby felt sick to the stomach, the beer sour on his tongue. There wasn't much he knew about the older Winchester. But he knew, John never asked, he ordered. He never hoped, he wanted. And first of all, Sam's and Dean's old man never said Please. Ever!
“Thanks.”
He ended the call, flapping the phone closed, and threw it through the open window on the passenger seat.
“I gotta go,” he said and Bobby chuckled dryly.
“Guess it wasn't your friendly neighbor asking for your lawn mower?”
“No.”
“Thought so.”
John remained silent and with quiet efficiency stowed his stuff in the car.
Bobby cleared his throat, wishing he hadn't drunken all the beer. It made him dizzy and lightheaded. “It's your son's, isn't it?” Maybe it was stupid, even suicidal, to ask this question but the only people that could make the man as freaked as he was right now, were his sons.
“I'll call you.”
Nothing more. No goodbye, or see you or anything. Only the screeching of the tire and the cloud of dust following the pickups departure. And Bobby knew, there wouldn't be any calls. Somewhere he'd have to dug out Jim's number to find out what the hell happened.
Author: Anja
Rating: none
Spoiler: Pilot
Wordcount: 600
Warning: Un-Betad. Believe me, this IS a warning :-D
Disclaimer: Still nothing's mine, as usual.
Summary: There wasn't much he knew about the older Winchester but he knew, John never asked, he ordered. He never hoped, he wanted. And first of all, Sam's and Dean's old man never said Please. Never! Tiny oneshot about John's reaction in the pilot.
All mistakes are mine. I'd be rich, if they made money :-D. So don't sue.
*****
“Did anyone tell you, you're stubborn as a mule?” Bobby mumbled with a pinched look and adjusted his hat.
“Yeah,” The addressee answered but didn't look up. A loud banging noise and Winchester's head shot upwards, bumping against the hood of his car. Oh, that must have hurt. “Dammit! Gimme the cloth, would you?”
Without a word Bobby handed the wished object.
“Don' come back dead and whine about it, goddit?” Bobby said and finally got a reaction out of his companion.
“You can bet on it. Me dead? I'd haunt your ass from hell.”
Bobby shook his head but grinned. Taking a sip from the bottle of beer he let the cold liquid flow down his throat. He felt its icy consistence meet his stomach and let out a mighty burp, which made John throw him a disgusted glare.
“If you were one of my boys, I'd spank you to hell so we can meet there again.”
Bobby laughed.
Their amicable silence was broken by the old fashioned ring of the phone inside Bobbys house.
“Don't you wanna take that?” John asked, when Bobby didn't react after the third ring.
“Ah no,” He winked, shaking his head. “If it's important, he'll call again.” As if on cue the ringing stopped mid tone and silence reigned again. “See? He wasn't even very insistent.”
John shrugged and was about to bend over the engine block again, when a different ring started jingling. It was hushed, since it was buried deeply in the depths of Johns backpack.
“Does anyone know I'm here?” John asked, his face hard with apprehension and Bobby shook his head.
“No... wait! Yes. Jim does.”
The ringing continued and after a few seconds John seemed to come out of his numbness. The search seemed to last forever and when he finally found the mobile he stared at it, like it was the enemy, deluding him with his cheering sound. But Bobby could see it in John's eyes: He didn't expect it to be Oh sorry, wrong number.
His voice sounded strained when he said his name into the phone. His face, unmoving as stone, turned pale.
“When?” He asked and his eyelid started twitching while staring at Bobby. Staring as if he didn't see his friend anymore.
“No. I'm coming. Just... just keep an eye on them. Please?”
Bobby felt sick to the stomach, the beer sour on his tongue. There wasn't much he knew about the older Winchester. But he knew, John never asked, he ordered. He never hoped, he wanted. And first of all, Sam's and Dean's old man never said Please. Ever!
“Thanks.”
He ended the call, flapping the phone closed, and threw it through the open window on the passenger seat.
“I gotta go,” he said and Bobby chuckled dryly.
“Guess it wasn't your friendly neighbor asking for your lawn mower?”
“No.”
“Thought so.”
John remained silent and with quiet efficiency stowed his stuff in the car.
Bobby cleared his throat, wishing he hadn't drunken all the beer. It made him dizzy and lightheaded. “It's your son's, isn't it?” Maybe it was stupid, even suicidal, to ask this question but the only people that could make the man as freaked as he was right now, were his sons.
“I'll call you.”
Nothing more. No goodbye, or see you or anything. Only the screeching of the tire and the cloud of dust following the pickups departure. And Bobby knew, there wouldn't be any calls. Somewhere he'd have to dug out Jim's number to find out what the hell happened.