[chitagua]As the Wheels Turn (Open)

[bobbysinger1]

Bobby Singer sighed as he rolled around his cabin at camp in his wheelchair. Things just got to Hell and back that was for sure, and Dean…. Bobby shook his head knowing what Dean was going through once he found out about his brother.

Thing was, Bobby himself wasn’t exactly taking this well either. Sam had always been like a son to him which made things harder. Harder then Dean would understand because Bobby didn’t really talk about it much. He knew anytime he brought of Sam’s name, it was a sore subject.

He wondered WHY Sam would have said yes to Lucifer. Just that thought alone burned a hole in his heart. Lucifer must have done something terrible to Sam to make him say yes.
Bobby didn’t even want to think about it, but he knew that’s what the circumstance was. At least in this case anyway.

Bobby rolled over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out the scotch. He looked around his cabin at all the books he took from his house. His house was still there, but it was decided that he come to the camp because that way he wasn’t alone. Bobby had rolled his eyes on that one, and didn’t want to say ‘Why because I’m in a chair?’ to Dean or the others. He just went along with it. With the way Dean was feeling, he gave him some leeway.

Bobby had opened up some of the books and started to look around in them. Research was his thing lately. He had been trying to find a way to get Lucifer out of Sam without harming the younger hunter. So far there was nothing. It was frustrating to even THINK about what Dean might have to do to his brother. Bobby swore on everything he wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

He continued reading some books on Lucifer and he sighed. Nothing. Absolutely nothing! He slammed the books down and decided to go for the liquor instead so he pored more whiskey. “Damit Sam….” He muttered half drunk. He threw the empty whiskey bottle across the room in frustration hoping no one was really paying attention to an angry, bitter old man.

[shelby]

The door had just been opening as the whiskey bottle went sailing across the room, shattering into a hundred pieces just as a cringing Shelby stands there in the doorway with a tray of food.

"Sheesh! If you didn't like my cooking you could have just said so." she says, teasing the man in the wheelchair "Or you know.. at least try it first."

Using her foot she closes the door behind her, avoiding the glass and walking over to the table, having to shift some books out of the way before setting the tray down on it. "Besides....it's a shame to waste perfectly good whiskey especially now. Never know when you might wanna drink yourself blind to avoid the End of Days. "

The redhead is worlds away from her former life, more at ease in her ratty old blue jeans and oversized t-shirt than she had ever been in her fancy outfits and racy heels. Turning to look over at Bobby she puts her hands on her hips. "So now I gotta clean this up and then you gotta talk to me otherwise I have no excuse to avoid the gun range or the happy happy joy joy orgy going on with those tree huggin hippies."

A small wry grin tugs at the corners of her lips as she moves to the corner of the room and grabs the broom and dustpan. She quietly begins to sweep up the mess with the sounds of glass tinkling around. Her voice is soft as she asks the question that has been on her lips since the moment she overheard the man's cursing.

"So.... who's this Sam? You'll have to forgive me. I'm still kinda new here and trying to figure all this camp politics stuff out."

[bobbysinger1]

Bobby watched as the whiskey bottle went sailing across the room and broke into a hundred pieces in front of Shelby. He looked at her and muttered, “Sorry,” he hadn’t meant to hit anyone with it.

Bobby stared at her as she mentioned her cooking, “I ain’t hungry lady,” he said. Truth was, he hadn’t eaten much since he had found out that Sam was now Lucifer. The thought made him sick to his stomach. With everything that was going on, he couldn’t believe that he was stuck in this dambed chair unable to help and lift a dambed finger.

He looked over at Shelby as she continued talking, “You blind lady?” Bobby asked, “I’m already drunk as Hell,” he muttered and went to go find some more to drink. He knew he was being rude, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t up for visitors, not really. Hell he knew that Dean must have been hurting like Hell, he knew he should go over to see him, but he didn’t feel like it at the moment. He couldn’t face the younger hunter, not here, not now, not like this. He knew what Dean would say to him about the drinking and stuff.

“You don’t have to pick up after me neither,” Bobby muttered, “Just cause I’m in a wheel chair don’t mean I’m helpless,” he said, though he knew that was a lie. Truth was, he WAS helpless. He wasn’t there with Dean when he saw his brother as Lucifer, and he couldn’t even comfort him the way he wanted to. What was he going to say? Dean lost Sam, for good, for real this time. There was nothing he could do.

“Sam? Sam Winchester?” he asked, “You ain’t heard of him?” Bobby raised his eyebrows. He figured everyone at this camp knew about Sam and Dean. Now he realized he was wrong. “Dean’s brother,” he muttered, “You know Dean, right? Our camp leader?” he asked. “Sam’s his brother. Or WAS,” Bobby muttered, “Now Lucifer’s wearing him to the prom,” he said repeating Dean’s words to his brother years ago.

Bobby sighed and reached for another whiskey bottle and started to drink it. “Ain’t no hope for us now,” Bobby muttered. “Haven’t even seen Dean since….” He shook his head, “How is he?” he asked Shelby seriously for a minute. He was worried about the boy who was like a son to him.

[shelby]

Well luckily he hadn't actually hit her with the bottle but she did catch a few glass shards in her hair and got some of the booze sprinkled on her clothes. No harm. No foul. There was a wave of her hand as he said he wasn't hungry and she frowned a little looking around for the broom as she pushed her red hair back out of her eyes. "Hey... eat it or don't, it's up to you but let me tell ya two things.." she says and pauses as she spies the old broom and retrieves it from the corner.

"First...I did what I was told and brought it to ya. Job done." she says sweeping up the glass carefully and shaking her head at the waste of good booze. "And two... you keep drinking like that with nothin on your stomach you're gonna be in a world of hurt when the booze wears off." There's another shrug and she continues her work, stooping down to sweep the glass into the dustpan. "Either way it's no skin off my nose, ya know? You're a grown man. You can do what you damn well please."

If she's irritated or angry at Bobby's rudeness she sure doesn't show it, speaking merely matter of factly to him as she works. The glass swept up and dumped in the trash can she goes to the window, leaning out to dip a rag in the ran bucket just outside it and wrings it out before walking back over to kneel down and clean the whiskey from the floors. "No.. you're right. I don't have to pick up after you and you're far from helpless. In fact if I had anything else to do I'd tell ya to kiss my ass and clean it yourself." She flashes a bit of a wry smile at the man in the wheelchair and continues to clean. "But like I said.. this gives me an excuse to avoid things I'd really rather not do or well.. see. That Cas dude is like creepy hippy guy. I can't believe all the gals are falling all over him." she says with a chuckle.

She takes the rag to the window and pours some water over the rag, wringing it out with the excess whiskey. "Gonna smell like a distilery in here." she says a bit to herself and glances to Bobby.."At least that's an improvement." How long has it been since Bobby took a bath anyway? Specially since most of the others avoided him.

Hanging the rag to dry she listens to him talk and shrugs, opening her hands to show she has no idea who this Sam is.But as it's explained she makes a small ahh noise and nods a bit. She still isn't sure what the score was there. She tried to avoid most everyone since she found her way here. Better that way. Better than someone finding out she was less than completely human. She nods a bit about Dean and says "Yeah...I know him. Well sort of. I mean I've met him and all but I don't really know him know him." She rolls her eyes "Plenty of the other girls do though from what I hear." There's a small smirk there. Ah isn't it nice to know the rumor mill survived the apocalypse?

But her smile fell as she heard the last and she shivered. "Damn." she says softly and shakes her head. "I can't even imagine what that is like." she admits, a bit of her jovial nature fading as she rubs her hands on her arms. She shakes her head a little and walks over to the food, a tray with chicken soup from a can (of course) and grilled cheese and some orange juice. Simple, light fare that had always helped her through many a hangover. Taking a half of one of the grilled cheese sandwiches she takes a bite before finding a seat and dropping in it. "I really couldn't tell ya. I'm not exactly the Prom Queen around here or anything. Not really in the know or in with the popular kids that rule in inner circle. I just try to stay out of the way, help where I can, avoid the orgies,.." she cringes there "..and enjoy getting to sleep where I don't have to worry about Croats sneakin up on my six."

She takes a bite and chews in silence a moment. "Maybe you should go see him." she suggests softly. "Or you could invite him here to see you if you don't wanna be around a bunch of others." She looks at Bobby and all pretense of frivolity and whimsy is gone. "Heck.. if I had anyone I cared about I sure as hell wouldn't waste what little time we might have left avoiding them. I'd remind 'em every day how much they mean to me."