Dean's my man, but Bobby's my favourite.
So naturally I cried for about an hour and had to go buy ice cream and apple juice to help me through it. And then I had to write fan fiction about Bobby because that just felt like the best way I could honour his death.
So. Yeah.
“It’s about time you showed back up!”
Dean
and Sam looked up in time to see her hop onto the railing and slide down the
stairs, jumping down at the bottom and spinning around, the biggest smile on
her face that either of them had ever seen.
The
smile vanished instantly at the sight of both of them, replaced by a scared
glean in her eyes.
Before
either of them could speak, the girl whipped out a knife from her back and
pointed it at the two of them, stepping back against the stairs, knife held
high.
“Whoa
whoa whoa,” Dean began, throwing his hands up. “Just calm down.”
“Who
are you?” she shouted at them, pointing her knife at Dean then at Sam.
“Look,
I’m Dean, this is Sam. We, uh, we’re not here to hurt you.”
“Dean?”
The girl lowered her knife, staring intently at Dean. “Dean Winchester? You’re Dean Winchester?”
“Uh…”
“It’s
just,” the girl began, taking a step closer. “I pictured you different.”
“Excuse
me?”
“Bob
described you differently,” she said, smiling.
“Bob?”
“Bobby,
sorry,” the girl corrected. “I expected you to be… taller maybe.”
“Taller?”
Sam said, smirking.
The
girl turned to look at Sam, tilting her head to the side. “Nice hair,” she
finally said after a moment.
“I’m
sorry, who are you?” Dean asked. “And where’s Bobby?”
“He’s
not here.”
“Yeah,
I gathered that. Where is he?”
The
girl turned back to Dean, tilting her head the opposite way. “Hunting. He’ll be back.”
“When?
And what’s he hunting? Where’s he hunting?
The
girl hesitated for a moment, as if unsure what to say. “He’ll be back,” she
finally said, her voice slightly shaky.
Dean
stared at her for a minute, the realization hitting him. “You don’t know where
he is.”
“He’ll
be back,” she said again.
“Who
are you?” Sam asked once more.
“Wendy.”
“And
you’re…” Sam trailed off, not sure how to complete his sentence.
“Wendy?”
the girl repeated, confused.
“I
mean, uh,” Sam tried again. “Like. Friends with Bobby?”
The
girl blushed slightly before responding. “You could say that.”
“Could?”
“You
look hungry,” Wendy said quickly. “I’ll make you something.”
The
girl quickly walked towards the kitchen before anymore questions could be
asked. Sam looked over at Dean, his eyebrows raised in confused. Dean shrugged
in response, trailing Wendy towards the kitchen.
Wendy
grabbed food out of the kitchen, beginning to prepare them something.
“Do
you know when Bobby will be back?” Dean questioned again.
“Soon,”
Wendy said, focusing on the meal. “It’s been three days, so soon.”
“Three
days?!” Dean said in surprise.
“It’s
not the longest,” the girl said, a smile creeping up her face. “Longest was
over a week.”
“Okay,
pause,” Dean said exasperated. “Seriously, who are you? And where’s Bobby? He
told us to come here.”
“When?”
“Well,
not now exactly. He told us if we ever couldn’t get ahold of him to come here.”
Wendy
dropped the mustard jar, her hands beginning to shake. “He’ll be back,” she
repeated like a broken record.
“Wendy-“
Sam
was cut off by the sound of a door slamming.
Wendy
set down the plate, running towards the door.
“I’m
sorry,” Bobby said, dropping his rucksack and opening his arms to Wendy, who
ran straight to him. “I’m sorry,” he said again, picking her up.
Wendy
didn’t say anything, just wrapped her legs around his waist. “I’m sorry,” Bobby
repeated.
Wendy
straightened, her legs still wrapped around Bobby. She took one hand and
stroked his face, the grin from earlier coming back. She closed her eyes and
kissed his forehead.
“Let me make it up to you,” Bobby
said, his voice dropping, walking towards the stairs with Wendy.
“We have company,” Wendy said, undoing
her legs from around Bobby’s waist and dropping down.
Bobby looked up, noticing Dean and Sam
for the first time.
“Dean, Sam,” he said, walking over to
grab both of them in a hug. “I’m glad to see you two.”
“Nice set-up you have here,” Dean
grinned, looking at Wendy.
Wendy blushed again, then reached over
to take Bobby’s hand in hers.
“What are you doing here?” Bobby
asked, reaching behind Wendy to pull her closer.
“Got your message last week, couldn’t
get ahold of you, decided to come check out this place for ourselves,” Sam
answered.
“I’m glad you did. Can you stay for
awhile or are you working a case?”
“Just finished one.”
“Same. Look, relax for a bit, let me
clean myself up a little and then we can talk.”
“Sounds good,” Dean said, walking over
to the living room couch and plopping down. Sam smiled at Wendy, then walked
over to join Dean.
Bobby reached all the way around
Wendy, pulling her close to him and brushing her hair out of her face, kissing
the top of her head.
“You okay?” she asked, squeezing him
tight.
“I am now,” he answered, breathing
slowly.
“I’ll make some food, I’m sure you’re
starving,” Wendy said, starting to pull away.
“Not yet,” Bobby replied, holding onto
her.
Wendy smiled and buried her head into
Bobby’s chest. “I missed you, crazy old man. Go get cleaned up,” she said,
giving him a final squeeze.
* * *
Bobby snuck up behind Wendy, slipping
his arms around her waist. “Smells good,” he whispered, kissing her ear.
Wendy smiled, leaning back into Bobby.
“Your favourite.”
“Everything you make is my favourite.”
“False, you hate that asparagus dish I
make.”
“Asparagus ain’t right,” Bobby
grimaced.
“You aren’t right,” Wendy said,
putting emphasis on the middle word. “Go tell your boys that it’ll be ready in
two minutes.”
Bobby kissed her head again, then
walked towards the living room. He smiled to himself when he walked in the
living room, Dean snoring on the couch and Sam reading one of Wendy’s books. “Typical,” he murmured to himself. “Dean, wake up! Food. Put the books down,
Sam.”
“Yeah, okay,” Dean said groggily,
standing up. “Sam. Food.”
“I wasn’t the one sleeping, so I
heard.”
Dean rolled his eyes, walking over to
the table as Wendy set down several plates of food.
“Eat hearty.”
* * *
“Yeah, she’s trying to fatten me up,”
Bobby said, pushing back from the table, finishing up his beer.
“I’ll say,” Dean said, trying to hide
a burp.
Sam frowned disapprovingly at Dean,
then smiled at Wendy. “That was delicious.”
“I’m glad,” she said, smiling back at
Sam. “Cause you’re the cleanup crew.”
Sam laughed, then stood up and started
collecting the plates.
“Dessert?” Dean asked, grinning up at
Wendy.
“Sure, after you clean up,” she
replied, handing him a dirty plate.
“Yes ma’am,” Dean laughed, standing
himself and helping Sam.
“What about me?” Bobby said, grinning
playfully at Wendy.
“I like you where you are,” she
flirted, hugging his neck.
“So what’s this thing you were
hunting?” Sam called from the kitchen.
“Same as always,” Bobby called back.
“You?”
“Yeah, usual.”
“Where’s Cas?”
“Sorry I’m late.”
“Jeeeeeeeeez!” Wendy yelled, jumping
around to see Cas standing about a foot away from her.
Cas tilted his head, looking at Wendy.
“Hello.”
“What the heck, dude? Personal space.”
“My apologies,” Cas said, backing up.
“My name is Castiel.”
“Uh, Wendy,” she replied, her hand
resting on her heart, trying to calm her breath. She stuck out her other hand
to Cas, who looked down at it, not moving.
Dean coughed loudly from the kitchen,
making Cas look up at him. “Right,” he finally said, taking Wendy’s hand in
both of his. When he didn’t let go, Wendy smiled and held his hands with both
of hers.
“It’s nice to meet you, Castiel.”
“All right, so we’ve all met,” Dean
said, walking back into the room with a dish towel over his shoulder. “Cas.”
“Dean. Hello. Sam.”
“Hey, Cas,” Sam called from the
kitchen, still washing dishes.
“Are you hungry?” Wendy asked,
pointing to the extra food. “I cook enough for an army.”
“Are you expecting an army?”
“I never know what kind of appetite to
expect when Bobby comes home,” Wendy said, smiling at Bobby.
“Bobby,” Cas said, nodding at him.
“You look tired.”
“I am,” Bobby answered, sighing
contently. “But I’m home now.”
* * *
Wendy smiled, brushing Bobby’s hair
behind his ear, listening to the talk.
It felt good.
They had just enjoyed each other’s
company for once, listening to the rain and talking, pretending they were some
kind of normal family.
She tried to hide a yawn as Cas
inadvertently made fun of Sam yet again.
“You are tired,” Cas said, tilting his
head towards Wendy.
Wendy tried to cover another yawn with
a smile.
“It’s gettin’ late,” Bobby said,
rubbing Wendy’s back. “You boys staying tonight, right?”
“I think we might,” Dean said,
stretching and yawning himself. “Be nice to sleep somewhere besides a motel for
a change.”
“There are fresh towels in the
bathroom at the top of the stairs, plenty of hot water and blankets,” Wendy
said, standing up. “I’ll show you the rooms.”
Wendy walked towards the stairs, Bobby
slowly letting go of her hand as the others followed her.
“You guys can fight on the rooms.”
“Hey, uh, Wendy,” Dean started, “Look,
thanks for this. I know we’re not what you expected, but I really do appreciate
you letting us crash here like this.”
Wendy looked over at Sam and Cas,
arguing over the beds. “You made Bobby happy, you know. Showing up here like
this. I haven’t seen him so happy in awhile.”
“He’s happy with you,” Dean said
quietly. “With… whatever this is.”
Wendy punched Dean’s arm playfully,
and Dean smiled before continuing. “But really, I do appreciate this.”
Wendy
looked at Dean for a moment before saying anything, all humour leaving her
face. “Whatever you need, Dean. Always.”
Dean
instinctively touched her shoulder. He had known this girl for less than five
hours, but he felt drawn to her for a reason he couldn’t explain.
“I
should check on Bobby,” Wendy finally said, gently shrugging Dean’s hand off
her shoulder.
“Right,”
he replied, clearing his voice. “Well. Goodnight.”
“Night,
Dean.”
Wendy
walked back down the stairs, trying to shake off the feeling that Dean was
going to end up meaning more to her than she wanted right now.
“Bobby?”
she called softly, walking back into the living room. Not seeing him, she
walked towards the master bedroom in the back. She smiled to herself as she saw
him standing on the back porch, his back towards her. Walking up behind him,
she reached around, standing on her tiptoes and resting her chin on his
shoulder. He sighed happily, putting his arms around hers.
“It
gets harder leaving you every time,” he whispered.
“I
know,” she answered quietly. “But you’re home now. And I’m exhausted from lack
of sleep from worrying about you for the last three days. Bed time,” she
finished, kissing his cheek and walking to the bed, slipping out of her jeans.
“Let
me help,” Bobby breathed, coming up behind her and slipping a hand up her
shirt.
“Hey
thanks,” Wendy joked, lifting up her hands so Bobby could pull off her shirt.
Pulling away, she crawled into bed, patting the side next to her.
Kicking
off his shoes and pants, Bobby grinned and climbed into bed next to her,
pulling her against his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around her.
“Don’t
leave again so soon,” Wendy mumbled, curling up in his embrace.
“I
won’t,” Bobby sighed, kissing her cheek. “I promise.”
