Bobby was your source of pretty much everything. You needed some help on the lore of a creature? Bobby was right there. You needed a place to crash? His door's always open. Need booze? Bobby's got some.

He knew you better than anyone else. Better than your parents, probably. You'd gotten attached as a kid, and now as a grownup, the feelings had stuck.

Today you came through his door, no call, no nothing. Bobby hadn't been expected you, and grabbed his shotgun. When he saw it was you, he lowered it. "Jesus, kid. You tryin' to kill me?" Bobby grunted. Then he saw the look in your eyes. "...Kid?" He softened.