Honey-Trapped 7/?
A/N Real life is quite busy right now (nothing bad, quite the opposite actually). I'll try to stick to my schedule with the updates on Wednesday but please don't kill me if the next chapters are a day or two late.
Chapter 7
They didn't leave until early in the afternoon, though. Mainly for Sam's benefit who spent the morning on the couch, reading. Or so he claimed.
Bobby followed Dean downstairs where he made himself useful by sorting and cleaning the scrap Dean had bought the other day while Dean worked on his current car.
Stretches of silence, when the noise of the power tools were too loud to hold a conversation, took turns with moments of light small talk. Bobby didn't push and just enjoyed working alongside Dean.
He'd missed that. As a kid Dean had loved to watch him work or to help him whenever he could. Then, when Dean had become older, they had often worked side by side like now, each of them busy with their own project.
They both had cherished those moments, when John had dumped Dean at Bobby's to disappear for days or sometimes weeks on end, and Dean could just be a kid.
It had never been the same after those three months in the hospital. Bobby had tried to give Dean the same safe haven as before but Dean had changed. Had gotten angrier and more distant.
On his eighteenth birthday Dean had left. Bobby had been sad, still was, but he would be lying if he said that he had been surprised.
"Just like old times." Dean pulled Bobby out of his thoughts.
"Yeah." His voice sounded raspy and he had to blink a few times, damn dust. Bobby wiped his forehead with the back of his hand still holding the steel brush.
"Remember the radio?" Dean asked, proving that his mind had gone similar places as Bobby's.
"Which one?" Bobby went back to brushing dirt and rust off a twisted piece of metal. He had no idea what it had once been, part of some kind of sheathing maybe. "The one you stole from me and took apart to find out how it worked or the one you built from scratch?"
"I just had a look. I was about to put it back together." Dean protested. "You were home early."
Bobby laughed at that and tried to not think about the scared look on Dean's face when he'd been caught with the parts of the radio scattered all over the kitchen table.
"You did put it back together." Bobby reminded him, pointing the brush at him. "And I got the stations clearer than ever after that."
Dean just nodded to that, still not comfortable with compliments.
They called it a day around noon and went upstairs for some quick sandwiches for lunch.
When he stepped out of the elevator, the first thing Bobby did, was to locate Sam. He didn't expect Sam to jump him or anything but he felt better, knowing were the other man was. He did feel a bit guilty for that but he couldn't help it. And neither Dean nor Sam need to know about it.
Turned out Sam couldn't be less of a threat. He'd fallen asleep on the couch, magazine lying on the floor next to him.
"Oh, man." Dean had followed his gaze and had spotted his boyfriend as well.
"Shhh." He made at Bobby, finger on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Bobby rolled his eyes but watched in amusement when Dean tip-toed over to the couch.
"Earthquake!" Dean yelled and rattled the couch.
Sam woke with a yelp and promptly fell of the couch in a heap of flailing limbs.
"Your face." Dean almost toppled over laughing. "Bobby, did you see his face?" He had to brace himself on the back of the couch, unimpressed by the bitch-face Sam was giving him from his spot on the floor. If anything it drove Dean into another fit of laughter.
"I see it." Bobby stepped closer to have a better look. By now Sam had come up to a sitting position.
"You." Sam was past the initial shock and didn't seem to be hurt but the look he gave Dean was promising a slow and painful death. "You'll pay for this."
Bobby's stomach went cold. Everything John had ever done or said to Dean rushed back into his mind but the image it settled for in the end was Dean's scared face, pale with huge eyes, over the dismembered radio.
Without noticing he had stepped forward in the attempt to get between Sam and Dean but stopped when Dean just laughed the threat off.
"Sandwiches in ten and then we're hitting the city." Dean thumped the back of the couch. "If you want a wake up shower, you better hurry." And with that he turned his back to Sam and walked over to the kitchen, still snickering to himself.
"Yeah, yeah." Sam muttered and at least came up to sit on the couch. He glanced upwards to the gallery as if he was considering the shower but then he shook his head, dismissing the idea. Instead he made himself more comfortable on the couch until he sat there sprawled out and relaxed with his eyes closed.
"You know." Sam said to Bobby without opening his eyes. "I just wanted to distract him from the nightmares. I wanted to help." He raised his voice to make sure that Dean heard him. "And this is how he thanks me." He cracked one eye open and gave Bobby a pout.
"I'm not the one who doesn't know when to stop." Came Dean's voice from out of the fridge. "You're greedy."
"I just can't get enough of you." Sam shot back.
Bobby stood in the middle and had no idea if he should laugh or smack them both over the head.
By the time the sandwiches were ready Sam was still far from being fully functional but Dean promised him a stop at a coffee shop and that was all it took to get Sam out of the house.
The couch incident seemed forgotten and Bobby didn't sense the collected calmness coming from Sam he had seen on John more than once. The calmness that promised trouble once they were alone. Nothing like that was coming from Sam and Dean didn't seem to be worried in the slightest.
They took the Impala and like promised their first stop was a coffee shop.
"Where to now?" Dean asked when they were back in the car, coffees in hand.
Turned out that Dean hadn't seen much of the city himself so this was new to him as well. The mood was too good, Bobby refused to think too closely about the reason why Dean knew next to nothing about he city he'd lived in for months.
Despite his tiredness Sam had actually a plan and fueled with coffee he was awake enough to make a decent guide.
They left the car near the center and went for a short walk during which Sam pointed out some interesting buildings.
"You're from here?" Bobby asked, impressed by his knowledge.
"I lived here for a while when I was younger." Sam admitted with a glance at Dean that spoke more than his words. Not that Bobby understood the message. "I came back a few years ago. Plus, I'm interested in history."
They had something in common there but Bobby didn't point it out.
They were just in time for a guided tour of the city. Bobby wasn't a big fan of tourist stuff but Sam assured him that they actually managed to make it fun and interesting here.
"He's lying." Dean groaned but in this case Bobby was more inclined to believe Sam. Especially when he greeted their tour guide by name, Cliff, and introduced Dean and Bobby as his friends new to the city.
For some reason that sparked Dean's interest, at least in the guide. The next few minutes he was watching the man as if he wanted to solve some kind of puzzle.
The tour was fun and when it was over and the other tourists had left, they stayed back for a little chat with Cliff.
"How do you like our little place so far?" Cliff asked with genuine interest.
"It has quite some history." Bobby admitted.
During the tour he'd held back with his questions but Cliff was more than willing to answer more in-depth questions now. Which apparently for him covered everything beyond the "When was this built?" tourists usually asked. Even Dean got pulled into the conversation when it came to the more bloody past of the city full of crime and intrigues.
There was one odd moment when Cliff hesitated with an answer and looked over to Sam who answered the unspoken question with a subtle shake of his head. If Bobby hadn't been so observant around Sam he would have missed it. What to make out of it, he didn't know.
Sam had put together the activities of the day clearly with Bobby in mind because their next stop was a used book store. According to Sam it was famous.
When Bobby entered the store, he knew why. He could see shelf-covered walls three stories above. Except for some balconies on each level, there was no ceiling separating the floors. The whole store made him think of a library of an old English university. The soft light and whispered voices, the smell of leather and dust, he was itching to get lost in here for hours.
Next to him Dean groaned again but Sam looked very pleased with himself. Bobby wondered how much his face had given away about how much he liked the store. And so far he'd barely made it farther into the store than through the entrance.
"Nice place." He said in his gruffiest voice and adjusted his hat just to give his hand something to do.
Later Bobby couldn't even tell how he had ended up with Sam, browsing the shelves and discussing various authors and books.
Who knew they had similar interest in obscure literature and medieval European folklore? Bobby didn't notice the hours passing by, for the first time he actually enjoyed Sam's company.
They both had a decent stack of books they wanted to buy sitting next to them and there was so much more Bobby hadn't even seen. He was definitely coming back before he drove back home. And he would make this a regular stop every time he visited Dean.
"I used to come here all the time." Sam filled a lull in their conversation. He sounded almost wistful.
"But not anymore?" Bobby glanced up from the book he was skimming through. They had found a quiet corner on one of the balconies and had sat down in comfortable leather chairs.
"It didn't seem fair to leave Dean by himself while I went out to amuse myself." Sam shifted in his seat and didn't meet Bobby's eyes.
"To me it doesn't seem fair to keep somebody prisoner for your own amusement." Bobby shot back. He felt almost bad for ruining the mood, he had started to like Sam, at least a bit, but he could never forget what he'd done to Dean.
To his surprise Sam didn't defend himself, didn't try to justify his actions. Instead he gave him a sharp nod.
"You're right." He said thickly. "And I still can't believe that he forgave me."
There was nothing Bobby could say to that. The silence that followed wasn't comfortable anymore and Bobby wished that Dean would burst in, whining about leaving the dusty old bookstore.
Speaking of Dean … Bobby hadn't seen him in quite a while.
"Where is Dean?" He asked, looking around without spotting him even from his advantaged point of view from the balcony.
"Down there." Sam nodded towards the ground floor. "He found his own way to enjoy the book store."
Bobby had to lean over the banister to spot Dean downstairs. Not that Dean noticed him, he was too engaged flirting with two women.
Chapter 8
Masterpost