Supernatural Season Three: A Dean Winchester Love Story

Dream a Little Dream of Me (4)

Dream a Little Dream of Me (4)

Kylie's POV

There was still an odd kink in my neck by the time we reached the hospital. The dream world had done its work on me, but Bobby had been pulling through with flying colors and that was the most important thing. 

The doctors were in disbelief, their eyes wide with shock when we arrived. The men in white coats and held a degree were in awe of the man who sat up in bed. He was a little groggy, maybe even a little cranky, but he was awake.

I all but flung myself on Bobby, giving him the biggest hug he had probably ever received, warning him not to do it again. Dean had done the same in a much calmer manner, yet his green eyes held a lot of emotions.

We handed over all the documents we had on the case to the grumpy man before us, letting him read over any and all notes we had, while Dean and I sat quietly almost in fear that one wrong word would put Bobby over the edge and back into a deep slumber.

"Hey, Bobby." Dean finally spoke after a moment. "That, uh . . . " He trailed as Bobby's looked up at him, a greying brow raised. "That stuff, all that stuff with your wife?"

I watched as Bobby's jaw tightened, but he seemed more relaxed than John ever would at the mention of his wife.

"That actually happen?"

Bobby let out a breath and gently sat the papers in front of him. "Everybody got into hunting somehow."

I watched as Dean's face fell with sorrow. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." He shockingly replied. "If it weren't for you, I'd still be lost in there. Or dead." There was a beat of silence as Bobby gathered the papers back up in his hands. "Thank you."

I glanced over at Dean who's lips twitched, trying to hold back the pride that he held. It was sweet actually.

Sam's heavy footsteps were heard down the hallway before the giant was seen by the three of us. He looked between the three of us awkwardly before beginning.

"So, uh, stoner boy wasn't in his dorm. My guess he's long gone by now."

While Dean and I were busy saving Bobby from his angry dead wife, Sam was chasing Jeremy Frost, AKA Freddy Kruger.

"He ain't much of a stoner." Bobby announced as he held up the college boy's photo.

"No?" I asked, leaning forward. 

"No." Bobby threw the picture down on his hospital tray. "His name's Jeremy Frost. Full-on genius. Hundred-and-sixty IQ. Which is sayin' some, considering his dad took a baseball bat to his head."

I stood up and took a look at the files once more, a picture of Jeremy's dad, Henry David Frost, was sitting at the tip of the pile. "Well, looks like me a dream jumper have a lot in common." I joked lamely. "Says, here Father of the Year died when Jeremy was 10."

"Injury gave him Charcot-Wilbrand. He hasn't dreamt since."

"Till he started dosing the dream drug." Dean stated. 

"Yep." Bobby agreed as he rubbed the side of his neck in thought.

"So, how'd he know how to dig up your worst nightmare and throw it at you?" I asked.

Bobby gave a shrug, his hospital gown pulling off his shoulder. "Hey, he was rooting around in my skull. God knows what he saw in there."

I felt my brows pull as my mind began to work. "How'd he get in there in the first place?" I questioned, feeling three pairs of eyes on me. "Isn't he supposed to have your hair, your DNA, or something?"