The night was cold. The moon shone brightly, causing dark, looming shadows on the road as three men drove down a deserted highway. All the animals were sleeping in their warm, cozy dens. The trees were still. Every now and then you could hear a quiet chirp from a cricket, or a buzz from a bug flying by. It seemed as if whole world was still. The car pulled into a little alcove, "You sure this is the place Sammy?" Dean asked, grief imminent in his voice. "Y-yeah Dean, this is the place Garth said he was." The three men got out of the car, Dean kicked the tire of this '67 Impala, letting out an anguished yell. "Dean, this isn't your fault," Sam said, moving into hug his older brother. Dean pushed him away and shook his head. The third man opened the trunk and got gasoline and a lighter out, "Guys, I think it's time." he said, his normally gruff voice soft and light. "Yeah.. We'll be right there Cas," Sam said as he looked once more at Dean. Dean approached the grave as Sam doused it with the bitter smelling liquid. "Who wants to light it?" Castiel, asked. "I will," Dean croaked out. "Dean you don't have to-" Sam's protest was cut short. Dean took the lighter from the moose-like man. Dean's shaky hand lingered on the lighter, slowly pressing down on the sparkwheel, igniting the flame. Tears stung his eyes as he threw the lighter on Bobby's grave. Sam's eyes might have been empty and dead, but Dean's eyes looked like those of someone who'd already died several times and not deemed it a sufficient punishment.
~Flashback~
"Now listen here you idjit" Bobby coughed through blood, "Whatever you do, make sure you keep The Dynamic Dunderheads alive."
~Back to now~
Somehow, without it ever becoming a conscious decision, Cas had promised he was going to do whatever it took to keep Dean alive. Not only for Bobby, but for him too.
"Dean, you make me feel alive, because the dark is beautiful too, and sometimes the light gets tired of shining all the time."
