Chapter 3

Dean cursed as he dropped the coffee cup to the floor as the room momentarily swum around him. Today was his first day out of bed by himself, and the residual dizziness was hard to shake off. While his wounds themselves weren't overly serious, they were painful and he had been fighting an infection for the last few days. His fever had finally broken yesterday, but Dean still felt weak and drained. However, that was not about to stop him from making his escape today if he could.

Dean held no resentment towards Bobby. He knew he would have pulled a gun on anyone threatening Sam just as Bobby had done to him. However, Dean hated that it had come to that, and he couldn't deny that the actions felt reminiscent of some of the stunts his own father had pulled when he was still alive. It wasn't that Dean didn't love John, he had just felt like he and Bobby had a different kind of relationship. He apparently had thought wrong.

"And just what do you think you're doing boy?" Bobby barked from the doorway, causing Dean to jump. He couldn't hide the grimace of pain that slipped through, both for allowing himself to be startled and because his abdomen was still very sore. "Sit down before you fall down," Bobby finished with some concern in his voice.

Dean smiled tiredly and turned back to the coffee maker. "Nah, that's alright. I'm not tired. I'm sorry if I woke you."

"Wasn't a suggestion, boy," Bobby told him, wheeling further into the kitchen and beginning to prepare breakfast. "And, no, you didn't wake me up."

Dean grimaced one last time when he thought Bobby wasn't looking and then took a seat.

"Sam finally sleeping?" Bobby asked easily as he began frying some bacon and eggs.

"Yeah," Dean said with an affectionate smile. "His mother hen instinct finally shut off around midnight."

Bobby chuckled at Dean's description. "Well I guess he learned from the best," Bobby offered, turning to give Dean a proud smile.

Dean felt an embarrassed flush spread over his face and turned his eyes to the table, pretending it was holding his interest instead of what Bobby was saying. He felt like he was on uneven ground with Bobby right now. The foundation of their friendship felt cracked, but Dean was damned if he knew how to fix it.

"So, uh, would you care to explain to me when you started confusing me with John Winchester?" Bobby asked, trying to say it lightly.

Dean's head snapped up so fast that he heard his neck crack. He had no idea where that had come from but he began to worry that it had something to do with his fever induced delirium. "Pardon?" he asked when he thought he could convey his usual mask.

"Listen, Dean, while you were sick you got pretty confused for awhile," Bobby sighed. "I gave you good reason to look at me the same way you looked at John. And I'm sorry."

"Bobby, you know I love you man, but what the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked with confusion.

Bobby sighed, and Dean would have done anything to remove the forlorn expression of his face. He knew that coming here would only bring him more pain. Damn it.

"I was a fool," Bobby admitted slowly, "to think that I could save Karen. It weren't natural, her coming back like that."

Dean was still trying to grapple for the right thing to say when Bobby continued. "I was a fool," he repeated, "and it almost cost me the most important thing in my life. Karen was dead…is dead. But you aren't. And I'm so ashamed that I would even pull a gun out and threaten my own…"

"Bobby," Dean interrupted, desperate to assuage his guilt. "Sam and me…we understood. Hell, we've done worse for each other."

Bobby smiled sadly. "I know that, Dean. But I was still wrong. I'll never stop missing Karen. I'll never get over the guilt of killing her. But I sure as hell would never have survived losing you again, or losing Sam." Bobby turned away from the stove and looked Dean right in the eye. "And if I had known how unsettled I had made you, I would have fixed this a lot sooner. Dean, I never want you to hesitate to come here when you are sick or hurt or even if you just want to grab a beer and shoot the breeze. The fact is, this is your home too. And never again do I want you to hesitate coming back here for whatever reason."

Dean felt like his face was frozen as his brain came to a stop. He had no idea how to respond to that kind of sentiment. A home was something he hadn't had. Not since he was five, and he sure as hell didn't know how to start having one now.

"Bobby…I…" Dean stammered.

"I know Dean," Bobby said softly as he brought two plates of food over in his lap. "I want you to stay for a few more days. Get your strength back. You can't fight the Apocalypse if you aren't at full strength. And it's my pleasure to take care of you because you and Sam are the closest thing to family I've ever had."

Dean closed his mouth wearily and nodded. He knew there was no arguing with Bobby, and he could freely admit that he had missed Bobby's gruff affection. He and Sam could spare a few more days.

"Now," Bobby said more lightly. "If this chick flick moment can be finished, I would appreciate if you would pass me the ketchup."

Dean smiled, knowing that the foundation he was standing on with Bobby was firm once again. "You know, if you would learn how to cook properly in the first place, you wouldn't have to smother the taste of your food with this stuff."

Bobby rolled his eyes heavenward. "Shut up, idjit."

Dean laughed and settled back to enjoy his own food. He knew he and Sam had hell to face over the next few weeks as the Michael and Lucifer battle loomed ever closer, but for now, it was nice to be able to come back home.