If you could only see - 4/?
Working with the Winchesters always reminds him why he prefers to hunt alone. He's worked with them on occasion and they are not bad hunters, not at all. In fact, he admits silently to himself as he waits for them outside the motel rooms, he does feel safer every time he knows one of them has his back. And then there is this talent they have of getting the job done no matter how bad the odds are. They are resourceful and seem to have an uncanny insight into supernatural forces other hunters haven't shown yet.
His sympathy for them ends exactly where their family issues begin, though. You never know what you're getting into when you agree to work with them. At least one of them will always be pissed at the others. There's tension in the air every single time he sees them and, frankly, he just isn't good enough at reading other people to always be aware of which topic might make everything worse. Over the years he's come up with a few guidelines to make dealing with the Winchesters a little easier. It usually helps never to mention the curse; don't remind John that he isn't the only one to bark orders and expect to have them obeyed; and never get involved in one of the prank wars.
Unfortunately, this usually only gets you through the first few minutes, and it's no different this time; all three of them are ridiculously worked up over something and can't seem to come down. He doesn't know what has them so edgy. He hopes it doesn't have to do anything with the hunt, though and in that case he expects John to fill him in. He knows that might be a little too naïve on his part since he is very familiar with his friend's tendency to 'forget' giving you all the necessary details. And still, this hunt is about one of John's kids and even the elusive John Winchester wouldn't leave out important information about it.
He and Dean had seen the way how Sam had left their motel room earlier that morning, and he'd watched the elder brother go after him to talk to him. A few minutes later he'd watched again how Dean had come back in a decidedly unhappy mood he had been trying to deny ever since. The moment John had excited the motel room Sam had joined them at the cars, got into the Truck without sparing a glance at either of them and then they'd been on the road.
A few minutes into the drive he had asked Dean if the kid was okay, and received a meaningless joke about some of Sam's decidedly more female qualities. He'd not put much effort into convincing Dean that he was not seeing the diversion for what it was. He had left it at that though. Dean wouldn't talk to him any more than John would, and he was actually grateful for it. He did, however, switch his radio to some country music station he knew would annoy the hell out of Dean just for the fun of it, gave the kid some dose of his own medicine-driver picks the music, boy-and enjoyed the scowling for the rest of the drive.
Forty minutes later John pulls over onto the emergency lane and finally stops.
"This is it?" Dean asks, looking around the place and Bobby glances at the surroundings briefly before he nods. This is the place where Sam had gone crazy.
They get out of the car and Bobby hesitates for a second. He remembers the evening before, the way Sam had been cowering on the ground and trembling so hard beneath his hand he had been afraid the wolf would suffer a heart-attack. He expects Sam to be equally miserable right now and is actually surprised to see the boy standing next to John's truck in human form, staring off into the woods in front of them. The kid's brows are drawn into a puzzled frown and his head is tilted to the side as if he is listening into the forest.
John is standing on his side of the car, dark eyes fixed on Sam, keeping his distance so he doesn't distract him from whatever the kid is doing. John is tense, even though the seemingly relaxed posture would suggest otherwise to any observer, his deep voice talking softly. He is asking a question and Sam shrugs slightly, eyes flitting to his father for a moment before they go back to the forest.
And then the hunt ends before it has started.
"It's gone," Sam says, stepping away from the car. "There's nothing-I don't feel anything, it's just… it's gone."
Sam finally turns to them, eyebrows raised in confusion. Bobby eyes the trees behind him suspiciously, scanning the tall trunks for any kind of movement. They look as peaceful as an ordinary forest next to a highway can look, there even is a soft breeze playing with the tops, causing them to sway slowly.
"What now?"
He steps around his car and looks at John who is still studying his youngest. Bobby might not be an expert at reading the members of this family but this expression, this frown he can identify easily; this hunt is not going down the way they'd planned it and nothing pisses John Winchester off more than supernatural creatures not playing by his rules. John doesn't answer right away and Dean moves forward, taking a step toward his father and the car.
"What do you think, dad?" Dean asks, looking expectantly at him.
It's Sam who speaks after another moment of tense silence. "It's gone, Dean…" he mumbles quietly, eyes dancing nervously between Dean and the forest.
"So what?" Dean snaps, glaring first at John, then at Sam. The way his shoulders bunch makes it easy to see that he is nervous, worried, itching to do something. "Are we just going to sit here with our thumps up our asses, or what?"
Sam sighs softly, glancing at his brother. "There's no trail to pick up, Dean… I thought when we got back here I'd feel the-it-this pull again and we could follow it to wherever this thing is hiding, but it's gone, it's just… quiet."
Bobby can hear the defensive edge to the kid's tone, can see the way Sam is shooting looks at John, waiting for the inevitable explosion. He can see the blame in Dean's eyes as he stares at his brother, and for a second, Bobby feels his own ire build. "Look, if it's gone, it's gone. Sam can't change that."
He feels Dean's anger shift toward him, though he'd have to be deaf to not hear the helpless worry beneath the hissed words, "I know that, but there's gotta be something we can do!"
Bobby deliberately stays silent, looking back at Dean until the young man winces slightly and drops his gaze, backing down and running a hand over his face as he tries to get a grip on his emotions. Behind him Sam sighs again, sagging against the car, his whole body projecting defeat. And that is just… wrong. It's not like the kid has control over any of this, it's not his fault, but he's obviously feeling every word his brother spits as an accusation.
Bobby doesn't really know how, but suddenly he is in the middle of their little family drama and he finds himself taking the boy's side, rolling his eyes at himself even as he glares at John. "You want to say something?"
John turns slightly and looks over at him, carefully keeping his eyes off either of his sons. "We have no way of finding it as long as we have no trail."
"Genius observation there." The rebellious attitude is rubbing off on him faster than he can keep his mouth shut. "What now?"
John glares at him and Bobby knows why- you don't snap at him like this in front of his boys, he doesn't react well to that.
Well, he doesn't give a shit if John's ego is bruised. They have a hunt, one way or another.
"Okay, fine. One problem solved; Sam won't be flipping back and forth. And while you guys can look for whatever caused it all later, the vamps are still snacking on the locals. I say we count our blessing and hunt the bastards we can find."
Out of the corner of his eye he can see Dean wince at his words and when he looks at him he can see a sudden reluctance in his eyes which is followed by an almost panicked glance at his brother. And who the hell knows where that came from, but Bobby just knows he is so deep into the minefield of 'family' that he is afraid to move. Dean opens his mouth, looking at their father, but the words don't come, whatever he wants to say doesn't make it over his lips and Bobby can barely hold back a sigh. That boy has never been able to speak up when his dad was around, not for himself… or for his brother. But that is not an issue he feels the need to resolve. This is all between the Winchesters, and not his concern.
John is still glaring at him, but a sudden movement snaps Bobby's attention to the figure behind him: Sam is towering behind his father, body tense and rigid as his narrowed eyes try to burn a hole into John's neck. His lips are pulled back into a very wolfish snarl which twists his tense features into an animalistic grimace. For a second there is nothing human left in his eyes and Bobby feels his stomach twist at the fury he can read in them.
John sees Bobby's alarmed look and whirls around in a flash, hands bringing up his weapon in a fast movement as he aims at the threat behind his back. At his son.
"Dad, stop!" Dean's panicked shout causes Bobby to jump in surprise and his hand is on the gun at his side before he can stop it. He doesn't realize he's holding his breath as he watches the older brother rush over to his father's side.
Sam, on the other hand, doesn't flinch at all, doesn't back down, his body vibrating with tension as his shoulders flex. He looks about ready to jump at his father.
John lowers his gun as soon as he recognizes the 'threat', but despite the low growl that rumbles through Sam's chest at the movement, the oldest Winchester doesn't back down an inch, doesn't seem to be phased at all at Sam's obvious fury. Bobby can even hear in his voice how John rolls his eyes in annoyance as he snaps at Sam. "For God's sake, Sam, back off, we don't need this now!"
The growling immediately stops and Sam takes one, two steps back. But the angry fire burning in his eyes doesn't lose its intensity and he keeps staring at John.
Who stares right back.
This is getting them nowhere, they are just riling each other up to the point where one of them will inevitably snap; they all have been there, done that and sworn to never let it happen again. And, because all Winchester men are stubborn idjits, they keep forgetting it every single time something threatens to unbalance their shaky truce.
Bobby had figured it out after spending four days in their company during a hunt almost three years ago; ever since the curse, it had become increasingly hard for Sam to keep his emotions under control in a tense situation. Bobby had the sneaking suspicion that the 'other' side of Sam picked up on the atmosphere of an argument the way wild animals would sense if people wanted to harm them or not. Although with Sam it only seemed to be about John. The more his father gets worked up in any given situation, the more Sam gets worked up- he never gets like this when he is fighting with Dean.
And John trying to win this staring contest is not going to solve anything, it's only making matters worse.
Enough of this.
He takes a step toward them and is about to move into the crossfire, but suddenly John retreats, and for a moment Bobby foolishly believes this little show of dominance could actually end on a forgiving note.
"Get in the car. We've got a nest to burn out."
John turns abruptly and stalks toward the driver's side. Sam jerks as if he has been slapped and his whole body goes rigid, eyes closing and jaw clenching as he visibly fights to ignore the command's pull - something even Bobby can feel deep down in his bones, a shiver that tingles along his spine. It feels like the edges of something big, something powerful-magical, brushing his awareness.
Sam is getting better at resisting, for the first time ever, Bobby sees him taking a deep breath and tightening his fists so hard his fingernails have to be biting into his palms before he turns around and approaches the car.
Dean watches him go, wincing slightly when Sam slams the door shut after getting in. The next second John pulls back onto the street, tires screeching angrily across the pavement as they speed off.
"Fuck!" Dean's curse echoes in the small clearing and for a moment he just stands there, breathing heavily through his nose as he watches the truck disappear in the distance.
This isn't his fight. Bobby watches Dean for a moment and gets into his car. Dean follows him a moment later, eyes still fixed on the road where they can see the truck getting smaller and smaller in the distance.
They drive in silence, Dean retreating into a worried scowl while Bobby replays the confrontation in his mind, remembering a similar situation that had almost ended in a tragedy about two years ago.
*** *** ***
… two years earlier…
When he opened his backdoor he could hear familiar, loud voices in the distance. He left the house, following the angry shouting to his junkyard. Sure enough, it was John and Dean, yelling at each other at the top of their lungs. Bobby wasn't close enough yet to make out what they were arguing about and he didn't really care. He'd come out to tell them he'd just had a call about the information they needed for their latest case and he didn't really have the time (or the nerve) for another of their hissy fits.
John and Dean were facing each other, well into each other's personal space. Both of them were standing rigidly, pushing at the other with their hands if they got too close, and even from where Bobby was standing he could see the narrowed eyes in their reddened faces. It wasn't often that the two of them really got at each other, the loud shouting and arguing was usually reserved for John and his other son, but once he and Dean got going there was no way of stopping them and getting between them was a hopeless endeavor.
What neither of them was obviously aware of was the canine shadow crouching in the shade of an old, rusty pick-up truck a little to their left. It wasn't often Bobby got to see Sam in this form, the kid usually made damn sure people, even him, wouldn't see him like that if he could help it. So the rare sight of a wolf in his yard, even if it was a cursed Sam, made Bobby stop in his tracks and just watch him for a moment.
It was not a happy sight. Bobby remembered how he had once watched Sam early in the morning when John and Dean had still been asleep. He'd caught a shaggy silhouette stalking his yard out of the corner of his eye on his way to the coffee machine: Sam had moved as if he owned the place, completely relaxed and at ease, furry ears pricking curiously at every sound he heard while his nose had never stopped sniffing this way and that. The wild eyes had watched his surroundings attentively, regarding the different tools of Bobby's work area with the same clueless puzzlement Sam had reserved for them when he was human. It had been a peaceful, yet surreal picture; his weird, quiet version of a Disney-moment and Bobby had kept still and hadn't moved, just watching the kid-wolf enjoying himself in the warm morning sun.
The wolf he saw now was no longer having fun. He couldn't see all of his body but he looked to be just as tense as his brother and father, eyes trained on them as their voices grew ever louder, harder. It was then that Bobby noticed it, even from the distance- it wasn't both of them Sam was staring at, it was John. Whenever the oldest Winchester moved or raised his voice, the wolf moved with him, his ears slowly pushing down to the side while his hackles rose, lips peeling back as he started to snarl. He never stopped staring at John, slowly stalked closer toward his father with stiff movements and the closer he got the lower his body sank, until he finally stopped in a low crouch behind John, right in his blind spot where he wouldn't be seen.
They stayed like this for a moment, until Dean finally noticed the tense animal and pointed at Sam, shouting something at John that must have been an accusation. John turned slightly and glared down at Sam, turned back to Dean and his voice rose, not even stopping when a moment later Sam joined the yelling and started to bark at them, angry puffs of air that were choked off at the end as he started to circle them nervously. Even from where he was standing in the distance Bobby could literally feel the tension climbing higher and higher, watching how John roughly pushed Dean back, turned and snapped something which had the wolf drop to the ground immediately, body tense and coiled, muscled legs bunching up, ready to leap. But he didn't move.
Dean looked at Sam, back at his father and was in John's space again a second later, his angry voice finally loud enough for Bobby to hear.
"Stop treating him like that!"
Sam jumped off the ground faster than the eye could see, lunging toward Dean in one fluid motion but recoiling short of attacking him, as if he'd hit an invisible wall. He instantly backed up, head once again dropping low as he told them with every hair on his body that he was pissed at them.
Bobby never found out why he did it, all he would remember later was that he'd yelled something at them at the top of his lungs.
And a second later he was on the ground, a hundred and twenty pounds of pissed off, snarling, snapping wolf on top of him, pressing him down. He remembered teeth, two rows of perfectly white, unbelievably sharp fangs snapping shut inches away from his face, razor-sharp claws digging into the soft skin at his chest. It was only his reflexes and having been around and training dogs himself that had him react instantly, bringing up his arm over his face and pushing the big head away from his neck. Before he could do more than drag in a shuddering breath, John's voice cut through the air.
"SAM, get off him!"
A moment later the weight on his chest was gone and Bobby could breathe again. And he did, closing his eyes for a moment before he blinked them open and brought Dean's worried face into focus.
"You okay?"
Bobby sat up, brushing the dirt off his clothes. He looked around, feeling a little dazed. Dean was crouching next to him, hand extended to help him get to his feet. John was behind Dean, staring down at him with an unreadable expression.
And then there was Sam: Still all furry and four-legged he was cowering on the ground, a little behind John. Wide, miserable eyes were staring at Bobby, ears plastered to his skull, head held low, almost skimming the ground. His body was shaking uncontrollably and he had his tail tucked in between his legs, trying to make himself appear small and harmless. He wouldn't meet anyone's eyes, dropped his gaze as soon as Bobby looked at him. He even went so far as to roll on his back in a gesture of absolute submission. Bobby had never seen him act like this, he was basically pissing his pants in front of his entire family and one glance at Sam's eyes told him the kid was completely aware of it, shocked to the core and trapped in this form-helpless- and he simply didn't know what else to do.
There was an awkward silence and Bobby finally got to his feet, brushing his clothes again.
"Mitchell called, he found the banishing-spell."
John nodded slowly, threw a glare at Dean, the 'we'll talk about this later' all too clear in his eyes before he turned abruptly and stalked off. Dean watched him go, ran a frustrated hand over his mouth and sighed softly, shaking his head before looking at Bobby.
"You need anything from the town?"
Bobby shook his head, watching as Dean slowly walked toward the Impala.
When he looked back at where Sam had been crouching the wolf was gone and Bobby found himself standing alone in the middle of his junkyard.
chapter 5