Bobby didn't let Rumsfeld out when he came in. He wasn't sure what Dean was going to do or going to need and didn't want the dog getting in the boy's way. He figured Dean would either go work on one of his cars or do some training of some sort. Dean wouldn't leave, not right now. He was too insecure to leave. He needed his home, he needed to convince himself yet again that Bobby wasn't going to kick him out. He wasn't real surprised when he saw Dean doing laps. When he and Bobby fought, it upset Dean something fierce and he knew Dean would…get emotional…once he had some time to himself, when he was certain Bobby wouldn't hear his soft sobs or see the tears. Maybe Sam would be really good for the boy, show him what a normal life was like. Dean would never embrace a 'normal' life, but he might at least learn to deal with those who did. He really hoped Dean didn't sabotage whatever the relationship was developing between the two boys but his disdain for Sam's parents…that was going to be hard for the Colts to overcome. Package Deal, Keiko had said. Bobby certainly wouldn't mind spending more time with the Colts, he had enjoyed a day of relaxation of shooting for fun, talking vehicles, and Jim liked a wide variety of music, including some of jazz greats and swing that Bobby preferred to Dean's classic rock.

He would probably invite the Colts over at some point, though he would have to make certain a lot of his more 'interesting' books were put out of sight. He knew there were rumors around town that he wasn't the holiest of men, though it didn't seem to impact his business. Hell, he dragged Dean to church about once a month. He wasn't Catholic but was friends with the priest at St. Andrews, so he often went there. Father Dillinger would work with Dean on improving his Latin after church was over. The father had tried to persuade Bobby to convert but Bobby would shake his head and just say he liked to hear the word of God now and again, and preferred the Latin to other more 'modern' churches. He was certain his attendance to St. Andrews and his friendship with the priest did a lot to put down any rumors that cropped up now and again. Dean wasn't real thrilled with the church going, but Bobby insisted, telling Dean he needed to be able to understand Latin in all its forms and where else were you going to find Latin being spoken and written? Making holy water invoked God and Dean had to have belief in the purity and goodness of some sort of heavenly being in order to do that.

Dean's first few attempts at creating holy water had been less than successful. Bobby figured Dean came to accept a belief in the ritual more than anything, which was fine, so long as he was able to create the holy water needed to fight evil. When they prayed in church, while Dean bowed his head, never had Bobby heard an 'amen' pass his lips. That was okay. He couldn't blame the young 'un for not having faith in a God that had permitted his family's death and all the terrible things that had happened to him.

When Dean came in, Bobby handed him a glass of water. He saw the flushed look to Dean's face from the work out but it didn't hide his red rimmed eyes and knew Dean had shed tears. Bobby never mentioned it, always pretended that he never saw it. Rumsfeld was at Dean's feet instantly, prancing happily.

"Ain't given his dog biscuits to him yet and he probably needs to go out. Laundry's all gathered and yer book bag's on the the table." He handed Dean a box. "This is for you."

He watched as Dean took off the lid and saw the ankle holster with the t-handled silver dagger. "Make sure it's sharp 'fore week's end," Bobby said. He rested a hand on Dean's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Now get your butt to work. I got research to do."

Dean wasn’t all that surprised when he came inside to find Bobby waiting for him. He accepted the water the older man handed him with a nod and murmured thanks before drinking deeply from the glass. He’d pushed himself hard, for more than one reason, and he knew he was going to have to push himself harder every day until they left for the hunt. Like Bobby said, he had to be ready. He wasn’t going to let Bobby down. He might have let the older hunter down on a lot of thing, but not this.

“Ok.” Dean replied, giving the excited dog bouncing around him a good ear scratching to help calm him down until he took the mutt outside. Maybe he’d throw the ball around for Rumsfeld for a little while before he did target practice. After homework… Dean made a slight face at that when Bobby mentioned his backpack.

Though when the older man handed him the box, Dean’s eyebrows rose a bit in surprise, and he knew his jaw dropped a little when he saw the silver knife Bobby was giving him. Silver weapons, of any kind, were fucking expensive. While they were necessary, especially for fighting things like werewolves and other shape shifters, Dean was still stunned by the gift. After all, he could have easily used one of Bobby’s blades for this hunt.

Dean swallowed down the lump in his throat and nodded when the older man told him to get to work, offering Bobby a slight smile as he watched the hunter head into his office for research. Dean grabbed his book bag and the knife and dropped both off in his room. He took a quick shower and changed, then he went to put in the first load of laundry and took Rumsfeld outside.

Once the dog had done his business, Dean fed him, and then went inside to finish his school work. He checked on the laundry every once in a while he completed his assignments, normally he hated doing laundry and tried to weasel his way out of it whenever he could, but tonight he just did it without complaint. After his homework he took one of the cleaned and loaded guns and did some serious target practice. It was nearly midnight before he finally finished and went to bed.

By now Dean wasn’t all that surprised when his thoughts turned to Sam. The younger boy always on his mind lately, and Dean honestly wasn’t sure what the fuck he was doing anymore. His life had been so… uncomplicated… before he’d met Sam. Now it seemed he didn’t know what to think or feel anymore much less what he was supposed to do. It was a long time before Dean finally fell asleep, still with no answers.

Sam helped finish cleaning up after the picnic and had asked his mom why she pretended not to know what the bow said. She just smiled and shrugged, saying she was merely curious if the family lore matched what someone actually versed in ancient Japanese translated. Sam wasn't really certain he bought it but didn't pursue it.

He didn't have homework since he hadn't been in school for a few days so he took a shower after they had a light dinner of leftovers and then he worked some more on Dean's portfolio. His mother had taken some really artsy pictures of some of the cars, doing some things like using a long exposure as the owner slowly drove the car out of the frame. She had the normal pictures too, along with close ups of hood ornaments or door handles or tires. He couldn't wait until she finished getting the rest of the pictures. With any luck, maybe he would have it done by the next weekend. If he could have it finished by Friday, he could leave it on the table when he left for the day.

When he finally crawled under the covers, he thought back to the picnic, his mind drifting continuously to the way Dean kissed him. He ran his fingers over his own lips. He'd never been kissed like that. Sure, not much experience in that department but damn, just thinking about it and he felt himself get a little hard over it. He remembered the feel of Dean's muscles as he ran his hand over his own chest, and the feel of Dean sucking on his nipples. He reached down and pulled his burgeoning erection out from under his shorts. He began to slowly jack himself off and he pictured Amanda and Stacy, or at least he tried to, but images of the handsome senior kept nudging the images of the girls out of the way. By the time his hand was pumping faster, only Dean was in his mind. He hastily grabbed a towel he had beside his bed when he felt himself getting ready to come. He thrust harder and harder into his hand, his mind replacing his touch with that of the work-callused hands of Dean. When the though of Dean sucking on his nipple flashed into his mind he groaned as he spilled his semen into the towel he had stuff down there.

Panting, he wiped the last away with the towel and laid it on the floor by his bed. He let his head fall onto the pillow, confused as hell by the feelings inside him.