(Untitled)

[wayward_dad]

There was a lot on John Winchester's mind. He felt restless, uneasy. More than he ever had since they'd taken care of the demon on Halloween. After that night, John hadn't known what to do with his life. So much of it had been spent tracking that bastard down. And now that they had and they'd gotten rid of him, what the hell was he supposed to

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[steel_singer]

Every time Bobby walked in or outta his hut, he was reminded of what was buried not far from his front door. The thought didn't even occur to him to move it, though, 'cause it was a part of him, a part of who he'd become since that godforsaken day, and he wasn't about to forget that. It was a reminder not to get too comfortable, just 'cause they were on some tropical paradise.

"Yeah!" he called in reply at the sound of John's familiar bass, and a coupla seconds later he was openin' the door. Didn't take much to see that somethin' wasn't right, and he frowned slightly as he stepped aside to let John come in. "Trouble?"

[wayward_dad]

"Hey, Bobby," John greeted gruffly, his frame taking up most of the makeshift stoop. Now that he was here, it occurred to John that this probably hadn't been his best idea of the day. Still and all, he'd prefer Bobby heard the news from him, rather than Sam or Dean.

"You could say that," he admitted, scratching at the stubble on his chin briefly. "Got a minute?"

[steel_singer]

Yeah, somethin' was definitely off with John. Somethin' about his stance was makin' Bobby think of Dean when he was havin' to 'fess up to screwin' up somehow. Like father, like son, he reckoned.

"Yeah, I got a minute," he confirmed. "Come on in."

[wayward_dad]

"Thanks," he muttered, fiddling with the collar of his shirt as he stepped through Bobby's doorway. The place wasn't anything like the home Bobby had back in Dakota, but John could see that, give or take a few months, Bobby would have a pretty damned good replica.

"Sorry for bargin' in like this," he began.