This was originally created for an E/O Challenge, which is intended to be exactly 100 words. Well, I ran over..and over. But since the theme of the drabble was for my birthday, I decided that it was my party, and I could write a 583-word drabble if I wanted to.

UPDATE: E/O Challenge:bonfire is Chapter Two.

Thank you!


Do Stars Have Souls?

The bonfire burned brightly and Sam watched the reflection of the flames in Dean and Bobby's faces. They were talking, but Sam didnt hear the words. Between the music blaring from the Impala behind him and the loud crackle of the fire, he couldn't hear them.

Or maybe it was the noise in his head.

It was only a few days ago that Sam had discovered he had no soul. He was soulless. The impact of that statement was just beginning to sink in. He stared deeply into the flames. He felt Bobby's glance across the flames, watching him. Dean was still talking, the music still played.

Sam closed his eyes, and raised his face to the night sky. Mentally, with his hunter's strong, trained mind, he drove his feet into the earth, as he felt it tilt and his head spin.

No soul.

It did make so much sense. The way he felt – or didn't feel – that long ago would have brought him to tears, made him angry, made him feel something. He crushed the beer in his hand, feeling its tepid liquid come up and out and over his fingers.

To just feel something.

Dean was quiet now, also watching his brother. Sam opened his eyes and stared at the stars. The night was so clear, so dark, that it was one of those skies that he thought he could reach up and grasp a few. To feel their heat. Do stars have souls?

Sam suddenly tossed his beer aside and stepped closer to the fire. He placed his hand into the flames.

With a shout, Dean flew over to his brother and roughly pulled his hand from the flames. Dean stared into his brother's eyes, anger and confusion filling his face. Sam stared demurly back at him, fascinated by the emotions. Dean started to say something, but could only bare his teeth at his brother in a snarl, the words choking in his throat. Dean ground his fingers into Sam's arm, and Sam was grateful for the pain. Sam turned and looked at Bobby, who grasped his wrist and turned Sam's fingers up to check for a burn. His fingers were red and blistered, throbbing with heat, and Bobby shook his head slowly at their appearance. Bobby gently released Sam's hand and walked out of the circle of light, sitting down on a log in the dark.

Dean tossed Sam's arm away like a hot ember and strode away to the Impala in disgust. The music stopped suddenly, and the empty void of the night swelled around the three men.

Sam thought that maybe Dean should feel sorry for him – but did Dean have that in him? Pity? Empathy? Maybe Dean had become as stone cold as me, thought Sam. Two soulless brothers, fighting things without souls.

Overwhelmed, Sam's knees buckled and hit the hard ground. Rough stones cut into his knees. He placed his hands on the earth to keep from falling completely, but his singed hand stung upon contact with the earth.

Bobby was by his side. Come on, son, he whispered to Sam, helping him up. It's gonna be okay, okay? Sam nodded silently in reply. Bobby helped him into the Impala, where Dean sat impatiently in the driver's seat. Bobby nodded to Dean and patted Sam's knee before closing the passenger door. Dean started the Impala and drove away. Bobby watched Sam's head loll tiredly against the seat until the ruby lights of the Impala disappeared.