The Best Of Me

Chapter 4

*21 Years Ago*

"You are either the worst car thief in the history of the world... or you have a story to tell." The older man said, taking a step back so the barrel of the gun wasn't pressing into Dean's shoulder as he sat there frozen staring at the man with wide eyes. "What's your name?"

"Dean Winchester." He quickly answered, not knowing if the man was actually planning on firing the gun or just using it to frighten him because if it was the latter then it was fucking working, he was frightened.

"John Winchester's boy?"

Well now if the man wasn't planning on firing the gun earlier, he sure as hell would be planning on it now.

"Yes, sir." Dean answered, dropping his head in shame.

He was so fucking screwed.

"Well, that is unfortunate." The man sighed, but to Dean's shock he didn't pull the trigger. "My name's Bobby. What happened to your eye?"

"Just ran into a tree." He lied.

"A tree with a mean right cross." Bobby responded, lowering the shotgun and resting it over his shoulder. "You got any place to stay? Friends? Anything like that?"

"No, sir."

"Balls." Bobby muttered, walking off towards the garage door as he pushed it open and Dean took that as his cue to leave.

He grabbed his backpack and rifle from the ground as he stood up and began to follow the man out the garage.

"Where are you going?" Bobby suddenly questioned.

Dean stopped where he was and watched in confusion as the older man opened the door to his blue truck that was parked outside the garage.

He wasn't really sure what he was meant to do as he watched Bobby grab an old blanket from the truck before walked back into the garage and threw it to him.

"That foldout couch over there ought to be more comfortable than the ground. Water out the hose is good to drink. If there's any trouble, anything goes missing, anything like that, the next one to wake you up will be a Sheriff's Deputy. You understand that?" The man asked and it took Dean's brain a few seconds to process what the man was saying.

He was letting him stay? Why would he do that?

"Yes, sir." Dean answered, unable to detect if the man was just messing with him or not.

Bobby nodded and walked back out the garage. Muttering 'shit' under his breath and yeah, shit was right. Why the hell would someone help him? He didn't even know this man and the man clearly knew about the Winchester family, but didn't seem too fazed by it.

By the time Dean figured out how to set up the foldout couch, Bobby had reappeared without his shotgun. He asked Dean if he was any good at putting cars back together and then further explained how he ran his mechanics business from inside the garage, repairing and restoring old vehicles.

Dean had happily agreed to helping work on the Chevrolet Chevelle and did his best to prove his worth. He always loved working with vehicles whether it was his fathers old Impala or a truck or Triumph motorcycle, if it had an engine and wheels, he was more than happy to work on it.

His father had taught him a bit about mechanics when he was a kid before the fire, but after that his father stopped and Dean taught himself everything else.

Bobby seemed to be impressed with his skills and knowledge under the hood of the car and offered him a deal.

He said that he could stay here if he helped fix whatever cars he needed to work on and Dean agreed straight away.