spn fic: " the untilled field" (PG, 5.22+)
title: "the untilled field"
author: fannishliss
rated: PG
warnings: spoilers for 5.22. Bobby pov; Adam, Sam, Castiel.
words: ~1500
disclaimer: Credit is due to the fantastic creators of Supernatural for the inspiration.
Author's note: Promise verse. Comments and concrit are sincerely appreciated. This story takes place in October 2010, pretty much at the same time as The Hunt.
Summary: Bobby never expected to nurse another Winchester into the life of Hunting, but it was up to him to get Adam back on his feet after his possession.
~*o*~
Bobby never expected to nurse another Winchester into the life of Hunting. He had watched as John dragged his boys around the country, isolating them from everyone but each other, training them like Marines running an endless, escalating Parris Island. His protests to John about what the life was doing to the boys ended at gunpoint, and he didn't see them again for years.
But John was dead now, Dean was living with his girlfriend, griming up coveralls and getting to know his kid, and Sam was off with Castiel converting the demons, which, crazy as it sounded, seemed to be a plan.
So Bobby was left to get Adam back on his feet after his possession by the Archangel Michael. Apparently Sam really was special, because Adam certainly derived no benefits from hosting the Archangel. He was in markedly better shape than the vessel Raphael had ridden, but he was still dazed and weakened by the ordeal.
He spent a few days just eating and sleeping, but then he started getting restless. Bobby thought it would behoove him to learn the Rituale Romanum and maybe some Enochian. Adam was more like Sam than Dean in that he showed some linguistic talent. Bobby himself was good at languages, so it was a relief to him that Adam caught on quickly. Like a true Winchester, he was a talented athlete, so he had little trouble adapting to the demanding regimen Bobby set for him as he regained his strength, and he was willing to fire as many training rounds as Bobby required.
It was only six weeks or so after his return that Bobby got a call about a rogue chupacabra that was encroaching a little too frequently on human habitations. Bobby was of the opinion that a green Hunter was a dead one, but in these times following the barely averted Apocalypse, Hunters were scarce, and he didn't have the luxury of scruples. He went to Arizona and Adam went with him.
As Hunts go, it was clean. Goatsuckers usually avoided humans, preferring to cull livestock from the range, but this one was getting lazy, easy to track and predictable in its habits. Bobby sat back and let Adam take the kill; he made the shot cleanly from a safe distance. He let Adam have the honor of his first salt and burn.
Back at the motel, Adam was in the shower getting rid of the stench of greasy smoke, when Bobby hit his speed dial.
"Hey, Bobby, what's up?" Sam said easily.
"Nothing," Bobby said. "I just thought I'd check in, see how you're doing." I just wanted to hear your voice, safe, alive, the old man thought.
Bobby's cell phone squealed with a burst of electronic noise, and as he held the phone away from his ear, a peal of thunder shook the motel room, though the sky outside was cloudless; then came a soft knock at the door.
With a sigh, Bobby opened the door, and there stood Sam, over-large and meek as usual, but almost glowing with health and power. The worry and anger that had dogged Sam as long as Bobby had known him had faded away. Sam smiled and stepped forward to embrace Bobby, and the wash of Sam's power flowed over him from head to toe.
It frightened Bobby a little, whatever it was Sam had become, his strange crusade with Castiel, his new and improved dealings with demons. Yet instinct told Bobby that Sam was doing well. He thought of Sam as a son, and he could almost feel Sam's love pouring out. He returned Sam's embrace, but he couldn't help thinking that Sam was hugging the wrong guy.
Sam pulled away. "So, you bagged that chupacabra?"
"Yeah," Bobby said. "Adam made the kill."
"Cool," Sam said. He opened a bottle of water and sipped. Bobby hadn't seen him eat more than a salad since his return.
"Sam, you should go see Dean," Bobby said. He was almost sorry to put a frown on Sam's peaceful face, but he couldn't help speaking his mind.
Before Sam could answer, Bobby heard a sound like wings, and Castiel appeared.
"What is it with you?" Bobby said, annoyed at Castiel's sudden arrival. "What happened to the Enochian keeping Sam off your radar?"
Castiel had learned a lot about human behavior, but his unblinking stare still made Bobby flinch. The new Archangel fairly dripped with power, with all the might of the Heavenly Host at his command. Bobby remembered that Castiel had literally brought him back to life at Stull, and ordered his hackles to stand down.
"I require no radar," Castiel said flatly. "I always know where Sam is because I never look away."
The unwavering regard of the Archangel gave Bobby the creeps. "What about Dean, you watch him too?"
"Absolutely," Castiel said. Something softened in Castiel's gaze when Bobby mentioned Dean. The hint of a smile played around the corner of his lips. "I can assure you that Dean is doing very well."
Bobby humphed. "Playing greasemonkey," he muttered.
Castiel stepped toward Bobby, and Bobby held his ground. "Dean is doing well. Lisa Braeden is a wise and loving woman. She cares for Dean and respects him a great deal. It is good for him to be with his son. He is learning to be more than... just a hammer."
Before Bobby could reply, Adam came out of the bathroom, towelling off. He froze at the sight of Sam and Castiel.
"Having a convention out here?" he asked.
"Hey Adam," Sam said, smiling, while Castiel nodded, stepping back slightly.
Adam did not think highly of Angels, and Bobby couldn't blame him. Castiel's apologies and explanations meant little to Adam, but at least Castiel made an effort not to intimidate the boy.
"What are you all talking about?" Adam said bluntly.
"Dean," Bobby said. "He's too much in the dark."
Sam's frown deepened, and he pursed his mouth to speak.
Adam said loudly, "Bullshit."
That pretty much got everyone's attention.
"What was that, son?" Bobby said.
"Bullshit," Adam repeated, a high flush building in his cheeks. He pulled out some clothes and jerked them on.
Castiel spoke, haltingly. "I'm glad that you're in agreement..."
"I don't give a shit," said Adam. "But one thing I know. Hunting sucks."
Bobby felt a stab of hurt run through him. "Now wait a second. You've only just started..."
"No! You wait a second. Just you look, at my life. My whole life. Hell, if John Winchester hadn't been a paranoid sociopath, I never would have been born."
Sam's eyes were sad, but he said nothing.
"Dude, I was killed by ghouls. Ever been eaten alive?" Adam looked pointedly around the room, but ignored Sam's slightly raised hand. "I thought not. It sucks, let me tell you."
Castiel bowed his head even further. Averting his gaze from Adam, he said, "I'm sorry for everything you have suffered. Heaven's machinations have injured you terribly, beyond my ability to recompense."
"No shit! My mom is dead. I never had a dad. I've got some kind of, I don't know what, demon messiah for a brother, and if my only other kin in this world is a mechanic outside Indianapolis? That's fine by me."
Bobby shook his head. "No one's forcing you to Hunt, boy."
Adam swallowed. "I don't have a better option. I was resurrected from my freaking grave, man. I was with my Mom, in Heaven. Heaven," he said, tears escaping. He wiped his face harshly with the heel of his hand.
"Heaven, what a freaking joke," Adam said, his voice breaking. "Is she even really there?"
Castiel angled his face toward Adam. "She is. I can swear to you that things are different in Heaven now. We are... rewriting the code... so that souls can travel freely throughout Paradise. When you return in due time, you will be reunited with your Mother."
Adam tried to get a grip on himself, but shook away Sam's compassionate hand.
"All I'm saying," he said thickly, "is if Dean's out, he should stay out." Without waiting for a reply, he stomped into his boots and went to get some air.
Bobby shook his head.
"It just don't seem right," he said.
Castiel turned his eerie gaze on Bobby again. "Trust me. I have only Dean's best interests at heart. Let have the time he needs to define who he is on his own terms. He'll be stronger because of it."
Bobby feared that Castiel had underestimated the intensity of Dean's emotional reactions, but somehow, he felt himself going along with Sam and Cas. And anyway, Bobby reckoned it was Sam's call to make. He just hoped it would come out all right in the end.
author: fannishliss
rated: PG
warnings: spoilers for 5.22. Bobby pov; Adam, Sam, Castiel.
words: ~1500
disclaimer: Credit is due to the fantastic creators of Supernatural for the inspiration.
Author's note: Promise verse. Comments and concrit are sincerely appreciated. This story takes place in October 2010, pretty much at the same time as The Hunt.
Summary: Bobby never expected to nurse another Winchester into the life of Hunting, but it was up to him to get Adam back on his feet after his possession.
~*o*~
Bobby never expected to nurse another Winchester into the life of Hunting. He had watched as John dragged his boys around the country, isolating them from everyone but each other, training them like Marines running an endless, escalating Parris Island. His protests to John about what the life was doing to the boys ended at gunpoint, and he didn't see them again for years.
But John was dead now, Dean was living with his girlfriend, griming up coveralls and getting to know his kid, and Sam was off with Castiel converting the demons, which, crazy as it sounded, seemed to be a plan.
So Bobby was left to get Adam back on his feet after his possession by the Archangel Michael. Apparently Sam really was special, because Adam certainly derived no benefits from hosting the Archangel. He was in markedly better shape than the vessel Raphael had ridden, but he was still dazed and weakened by the ordeal.
He spent a few days just eating and sleeping, but then he started getting restless. Bobby thought it would behoove him to learn the Rituale Romanum and maybe some Enochian. Adam was more like Sam than Dean in that he showed some linguistic talent. Bobby himself was good at languages, so it was a relief to him that Adam caught on quickly. Like a true Winchester, he was a talented athlete, so he had little trouble adapting to the demanding regimen Bobby set for him as he regained his strength, and he was willing to fire as many training rounds as Bobby required.
It was only six weeks or so after his return that Bobby got a call about a rogue chupacabra that was encroaching a little too frequently on human habitations. Bobby was of the opinion that a green Hunter was a dead one, but in these times following the barely averted Apocalypse, Hunters were scarce, and he didn't have the luxury of scruples. He went to Arizona and Adam went with him.
As Hunts go, it was clean. Goatsuckers usually avoided humans, preferring to cull livestock from the range, but this one was getting lazy, easy to track and predictable in its habits. Bobby sat back and let Adam take the kill; he made the shot cleanly from a safe distance. He let Adam have the honor of his first salt and burn.
Back at the motel, Adam was in the shower getting rid of the stench of greasy smoke, when Bobby hit his speed dial.
"Hey, Bobby, what's up?" Sam said easily.
"Nothing," Bobby said. "I just thought I'd check in, see how you're doing." I just wanted to hear your voice, safe, alive, the old man thought.
Bobby's cell phone squealed with a burst of electronic noise, and as he held the phone away from his ear, a peal of thunder shook the motel room, though the sky outside was cloudless; then came a soft knock at the door.
With a sigh, Bobby opened the door, and there stood Sam, over-large and meek as usual, but almost glowing with health and power. The worry and anger that had dogged Sam as long as Bobby had known him had faded away. Sam smiled and stepped forward to embrace Bobby, and the wash of Sam's power flowed over him from head to toe.
It frightened Bobby a little, whatever it was Sam had become, his strange crusade with Castiel, his new and improved dealings with demons. Yet instinct told Bobby that Sam was doing well. He thought of Sam as a son, and he could almost feel Sam's love pouring out. He returned Sam's embrace, but he couldn't help thinking that Sam was hugging the wrong guy.
Sam pulled away. "So, you bagged that chupacabra?"
"Yeah," Bobby said. "Adam made the kill."
"Cool," Sam said. He opened a bottle of water and sipped. Bobby hadn't seen him eat more than a salad since his return.
"Sam, you should go see Dean," Bobby said. He was almost sorry to put a frown on Sam's peaceful face, but he couldn't help speaking his mind.
Before Sam could answer, Bobby heard a sound like wings, and Castiel appeared.
"What is it with you?" Bobby said, annoyed at Castiel's sudden arrival. "What happened to the Enochian keeping Sam off your radar?"
Castiel had learned a lot about human behavior, but his unblinking stare still made Bobby flinch. The new Archangel fairly dripped with power, with all the might of the Heavenly Host at his command. Bobby remembered that Castiel had literally brought him back to life at Stull, and ordered his hackles to stand down.
"I require no radar," Castiel said flatly. "I always know where Sam is because I never look away."
The unwavering regard of the Archangel gave Bobby the creeps. "What about Dean, you watch him too?"
"Absolutely," Castiel said. Something softened in Castiel's gaze when Bobby mentioned Dean. The hint of a smile played around the corner of his lips. "I can assure you that Dean is doing very well."
Bobby humphed. "Playing greasemonkey," he muttered.
Castiel stepped toward Bobby, and Bobby held his ground. "Dean is doing well. Lisa Braeden is a wise and loving woman. She cares for Dean and respects him a great deal. It is good for him to be with his son. He is learning to be more than... just a hammer."
Before Bobby could reply, Adam came out of the bathroom, towelling off. He froze at the sight of Sam and Castiel.
"Having a convention out here?" he asked.
"Hey Adam," Sam said, smiling, while Castiel nodded, stepping back slightly.
Adam did not think highly of Angels, and Bobby couldn't blame him. Castiel's apologies and explanations meant little to Adam, but at least Castiel made an effort not to intimidate the boy.
"What are you all talking about?" Adam said bluntly.
"Dean," Bobby said. "He's too much in the dark."
Sam's frown deepened, and he pursed his mouth to speak.
Adam said loudly, "Bullshit."
That pretty much got everyone's attention.
"What was that, son?" Bobby said.
"Bullshit," Adam repeated, a high flush building in his cheeks. He pulled out some clothes and jerked them on.
Castiel spoke, haltingly. "I'm glad that you're in agreement..."
"I don't give a shit," said Adam. "But one thing I know. Hunting sucks."
Bobby felt a stab of hurt run through him. "Now wait a second. You've only just started..."
"No! You wait a second. Just you look, at my life. My whole life. Hell, if John Winchester hadn't been a paranoid sociopath, I never would have been born."
Sam's eyes were sad, but he said nothing.
"Dude, I was killed by ghouls. Ever been eaten alive?" Adam looked pointedly around the room, but ignored Sam's slightly raised hand. "I thought not. It sucks, let me tell you."
Castiel bowed his head even further. Averting his gaze from Adam, he said, "I'm sorry for everything you have suffered. Heaven's machinations have injured you terribly, beyond my ability to recompense."
"No shit! My mom is dead. I never had a dad. I've got some kind of, I don't know what, demon messiah for a brother, and if my only other kin in this world is a mechanic outside Indianapolis? That's fine by me."
Bobby shook his head. "No one's forcing you to Hunt, boy."
Adam swallowed. "I don't have a better option. I was resurrected from my freaking grave, man. I was with my Mom, in Heaven. Heaven," he said, tears escaping. He wiped his face harshly with the heel of his hand.
"Heaven, what a freaking joke," Adam said, his voice breaking. "Is she even really there?"
Castiel angled his face toward Adam. "She is. I can swear to you that things are different in Heaven now. We are... rewriting the code... so that souls can travel freely throughout Paradise. When you return in due time, you will be reunited with your Mother."
Adam tried to get a grip on himself, but shook away Sam's compassionate hand.
"All I'm saying," he said thickly, "is if Dean's out, he should stay out." Without waiting for a reply, he stomped into his boots and went to get some air.
Bobby shook his head.
"It just don't seem right," he said.
Castiel turned his eerie gaze on Bobby again. "Trust me. I have only Dean's best interests at heart. Let have the time he needs to define who he is on his own terms. He'll be stronger because of it."
Bobby feared that Castiel had underestimated the intensity of Dean's emotional reactions, but somehow, he felt himself going along with Sam and Cas. And anyway, Bobby reckoned it was Sam's call to make. He just hoped it would come out all right in the end.