#about bobby

I do see Bobby making modifications to his body. Mainly for his fear of losing control & his powers, or control of said power goes hand & hand with his mental stability & his physical fitness. Maintaining his ice form alone, can be fairly tiring both physically & mentally when he holds it for over 6 hours continuously. 

This is discounting the times when he’s stuck in his Ice form/armor. When he loses control of his power, he’s essentially trapped within this form. Which also leaves him emotionally disconnected. He was a huge asshole the first time it happened (mainly when he froze the world with the Death Seed), while other’s he purposely goes to the coldest area of the Earth to keep himself from harming others (marvel voices infinity comics)

With further consideration & how Mar.vel’s artists continue to shift his hair from blonde, brown, dirty brown & even strangely, red. I’m not sure he’s fully aware that he’s doing it. Especially when he makes himself gigantic to fight enemies. Which leads to him shifting his body into muscular fist fighting. Either himself or using a golem to do the fight. (Making himself is normally when he has to reform himself in the middle of the fight & isn’t sliding around with a non-combatant.) 

So I do see it as him just changing shape & not noticing he’s left some of those changes behind when he shrinks himself back down to his normal height. Maybe even taking on a few changes he makes to the golem if the fight itself lasts. At least at first, he’d notice when he’s out of his ice form/armor, anyone would but I also don’t see him changing it back unless it’s a ‘oh wow why do i have red hair suddenly?’ or a ‘wow i should not have a spike there o.o’ moment. 

Which isn’t all together healthy, reaching peak physical condition overnight or leaving said alterations to his body to get that peak condition. I don’t think he’d let him think about it, or if he picks up on it just ignores that side of it. (which at the same time could be a fun bit to write with any of my partners’ muses that would know his body (at least his current one) & recognize the changes.

Emma also brought up shapeshifting, which we both agreed that he wouldn’t do anything too intense with shapeshifting because of his past experiences with Raven. However, he already shapeshifts, even forming full outfits out of nothing. Well not entirely out of nothing. 

In this panel, he started with the suit above, the only thing he didn’t make is the staff and the crown, he did alter Loki’s crown however (not sure crown is the right word). He even gave himself that short beard to finish the look off. & it’s all his doing, considering later loki is just ‘you fell for the classic motivational speech, I can’t give you my power. You had it all along blah blah blah.’

After two weeks, I started calling every hunter I knew to see if anybody could go up there to check in on him.  I couldn't leave the boys alone, that’d make me as bad as John.  Nobody was available- the nineties were busy years for hunters.  All I could do was keep waiting.

It was summer, so the boys weren’t in school.  I did my best to keep them occupied, to keep them from asking too many questions about where John was and when he was coming back.  Sam was the worst, since he was littler and still naive.  He’d believe any lie I told him, but it killed me to do it.

After a month, I accepted the fact that John was dead.  Figuring out how to tell Sam and Dean was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, and I hated John for making me do it.  I sat them down in my living room, but couldn’t even bring myself to say the words.  I had tears in my eyes when I finally said it.  “Boys, your dad’s not coming back this time.”

Sam was so in shock he couldn’t even cry.  Dean, he screamed at me.  Called me a liar, told me that John was too tough to die, that he was just busy with a case, and he’d be home soon.  I wanted to say, “you’re right, Dean.  I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” I couldn’t.  I had to tear that bandage off, make sure Dean would understand that holding out hope for John’s return would only make things worse.  Dean and I have never argued that bad since.  He was screaming, pounding on my chest, cursing me out for not having any faith in John.  All the while, Sam just sat there silent, taking it all in.

I went too far.  In trying to make Dean understand, I said things about John I couldn’t take back.  Things that no son should ever hear about his father.  I said John was an idiot, a damn fool for chasing the thing that killed their mom, and that they’d be better off having been put in an orphanage after Mary died rather than being dragged around by John.  Every bad thought I’d ever had about him, I let out right then and there.  Between that and what happened in Omaha, I’ve told you the two moments I’m least proud of.

Dean stormed off, disappeared into the forest by my house.  For ten hours I waited for him to come back.  As I contemplated having to call the police to help find him, I realized just how much Dean was like his dad.  And that Dean’s reaction was just his way of processing what he must have known to be true- that John really wasn’t coming back.  I’d made things so much worse than they needed to be.  And poor Sam...smart enough to know exactly what was happening, but shy enough to bear it all in silence.  God only knows the pain he was feeling.  

At midnight, I heard footsteps on my front steps.  When I opened the door, there was Dean, holding John Winchester’s hand.

He was alive.  And when he returned, he found his son on the side of the highway, trying to hitch a ride to Montana to look for him.

When John saw me, there was ice in his eyes.  He was so furious at me for what I’d said to Dean and Sam, he coulda sucker-punched me.  He called out for Sam who was asleep on the couch.  Said they were leaving, going to stay with some real friends.

I told you I wasn’t proud of what I said to Dean, but I’m also not that proud of what I did next- I grabbed a rock salt shotgun from my shelf and chased John off my property, blasting the back of the impala with salt as it skidded out of my driveway.

I spent the next few years regretting what’d happened.  Hunting can be a lonely life, but it was a lot lonelier without the Winchesters.”