Song Remains the Same

Chapter 35: Runs in the Family

"And my scars remind me that the past is real."
- Papa Roach

Bobby Singer wasn't having what you'd call the best day. Hell, he wasn't having what you'd call the best year. He'd lost movement in both of his legs, gotten himself stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, and had been forced to kill his wife all over again last month—something a man should never have to do once, let alone twice. And now Sam had called to let him know that Dean was being a damn fool and running off to say yes to Michael. Of all the things Bobby had been expecting to hear Sam say... that hadn't been it. What the hell was the kid thinking?

Bobby would be pacing if his damn legs worked. Instead, he'd resigned himself to neurotically shuffling through notes and newspaper clippings. Like father like son, he thought bitterly. Running off on family at the worst time possible.

What bothered Bobby was that he had expected a hell of a lot more from Dean. 'Course, he didn't know the full story of why in tarnation Dean would think saying yes to Michael was a good idea unless he'd given up hope on other options, but that was the thing... it just didn't seem like Dean to give up. Ever. Ever.

Morning light streamed in through the window and Bobby leaned over his cluttered desk, fighting a massive headache. Time was running short, he felt it in his bones. He'd been feeling it for a while now, this looming sense that the grand finale was marching closer and closer. But he pushed past the urge to give up every day, refusing to throw in the towel.

At that very moment, three people suddenly appeared out of naked air. Sam (supporting an unconscious Dean) and Castiel, who had a hand on Sam's shoulder.

Startled, Bobby sat back in his wheelchair. "Dammit, boys!" he exclaimed. "A little heads up woulda been nice." Sam mumbled an apology while he eased Dean's slack body down onto the pullout cot. Bobby paused, frowning. "Wait, where's Alex?"

"On her way," Cas said, disappearing without further explanation. Bobby stared at the empty space the angel had just occupied. Well that was just plain disconcerting, no matter how many times he saw it.

"Still in Battle Creek, getting the rest of Dean's crap together and into the Impala," Sam explained wearily, standing over his brother and running a hand through his hair.

Bobby wheeled himself from behind his desk, looking Dean over as he stated the blessed obvious: "So you found him."

"Yeah. We did." Sam rubbed his palm down over his mouth, crossed his arms, and sighed grimly. "This isn't good, Bobby." Sam shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a chair. He seemed beaten and drained.

"Sit down, kid." Bobby gestured to an empty chair, wishing he could take some of the load from poor Sam. "Tell me what happened."

Sam dragged the chair over and proceeded to give the quick three-minute summary of how Dean had been acting strange for the past few weeks, how he'd been uncharacteristically hopeless and depressed, then how he'd run off after spouting craziness about the angels and Michael and changing the future. Sam said that their confrontation with the Whore of Babylon had seemed to send him over the edge. "Well that and Cas and Alex," Sam was saying.

"Cas and Alex?" Bobby repeated. "What about 'em?"

Sam grew pensive. "Their, uh... relationship."

Bobby squinted. "Come again?"

Sam looked unsure of what to say. "It's—" He stopped talking when they heard the front door open. Speak of the devils. Alex stormed around the corner and into the office, mad as a wet hen. Cas followed.