Song Remains the Same

Chapter 89: Dead Like Me

"It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone at all."
- John Steinbeck

1990

"Hey, Bobby, where we going?"

Little Dean followed a much-taller Bobby Singer out into the leaf-scattered field that was adjacent to the nearby playground. He was a little confused at the sights and sounds surrounding the area: kids and families playing, laughing, relaxing, and spending time together just because. At eleven years old, Dean Winchester had been told that he was too old for any of that stuff. Hot on the heels of the guy he'd always called 'Uncle Bobby,' he tried to catch up to the older man's longer stride.

"Dad says we're supposed to practice with the double-barrel," he reminded in vague concern. He glanced at the duffel bag his uncle carried then back at the bustling park. "We can't shoot guns here, this is where people play."

Bobby stopped and smiled down at the child who was toeing the line between boy and young man. Matter of fact and pleasant and kind, he put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Exactly, Dean. Today... we're gonna play." Stumped protest gathered on Dean's face. "We're gonna skip the guns today," Bobby explained, a smile growing. "Today..." he set the duffel down and unzipped it, withdrawing a football. Dean's eyes widened just a little and a look of immediate joy crossed his face—then he quickly wiped it away in favor of a much more cautious expression. Bobby showed him the ball for effect. "Today you're gonna throw the pigskin around just like a regular snot-nosed little jerk." He said that affectionately then backed up a few steps and sent the ball sailing to Dean, who caught it with a look of conflict. He looked at the ball apprehensively. It was obvious he really wanted to play. But he looked up at Bobby cautiously and held onto the ball warily, turning it in his hands for a couple of thoughtful beats. "...Sam and Alex too?" he asked, making sure he wasn't the only one who would get this afternoon of forbidden fun.

Never a thought for himself, this one. Bobby smiled widely. "'Course!" he confirmed encouragingly, trying to inspire a mood of enthusiasm in Dean. "You'll be able to start your own little football team by the time I've learned ya'll three the ropes."

Dean was still holding the football with two hands. He considered it hesitantly. "Won't Dad be mad?" he asked, peering up at Bobby with those bright green potential-filled eyes.

Bobby felt a ripple of a sadness at that question. Dean was only eleven—the things John expected of him were close to impossible. Bobby crouched down to be more on Dean's level and he didn't show his truer feelings on the matter (anger, resentment, disapproval—John Winchester had some very messed up ideals if you asked him). He smiled reassuringly for Dean's benefit, letting the little guy know that it was all okay. "One day'a doing some kid stuff won't kill ya, Dean. If he's got a problem with how we spent the afternoon, he can take that up with me, all right?" He stood up and smiled over Dean's shoulder, catching sight of two similarly-sized figures nearby. "There they are! The wonder twins!"

Sam and Alex were coming out of the little nearby bathroom pavilion together. Sam took his role of big brother quite seriously at seven years old, even if he were only a minute or so older than his twin sister—he walked very closely to his sister and just as trained, was looking around their immediate area for perceived threats. He emulated Dean quite often and was very watchful of his sister at that age. The twins were real cute—both built wiry and sort of scrawny in comparison to their more stocky older brother. Alex had long unruly dark brown hair that matched her father's hair color—little wild curling hairs framed her face in an unpredictable pattern. Sam's hair was lighter than hers but just as messy and hung in his eyes—sometimes Bobby though he was trying to hide behind that long hair. The twins both wore boys jeans and boys shoes and, you guessed it, boys shirts too. Apparently John Winchester couldn't be bothered to get clothes that were for girls or something. Bobby had never really figured it out but it didn't seem to bother little Alex. Maybe she preferred it that way. The twins were both a bit on the reserved side, especially Alex, who was unable to speak. It was a good thing she had her two big brothers looking out for her. While her father was always oblivious to what she needed or how she felt, Sam and Dean always seemed to know, they spoke their sister's silent language somehow.