AN: First ever story. Constructive criticism is appreciated. All mistakes are my own.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Everything belongs to the creators of Supernatural.
Saying Goodbye
A dry breeze swept through the dead leaves, a harsh crackle of protest followed it through the trees. Several of the leaves tumbled to the ground, landing gently on the mound of turned earth.
Next to the small mound stood a tall man. His head was bent low, long locks covering glassy eyes. Today, he had laid his brother to rest for the final time. The ornate box, only one square foot, held everything that was his brother.
To a casual passerby, the man might appear to be too stoic for one that had just buried the final member of their family, but such wasn't the case. It would do no good for the man to wail and grind his teeth, hold a grudge against his brother for not keeping his promise of always being there; he'd already done that. Instead, the man stood there, a solitary tear tracing down his cheek.
For an untold amount of time, the man stood there. He replayed the events in his mind that had led up to this conclusion. No matter how many times he saw it, he knew there was no way he could have stopped it. His brother had saved the little girl's life by jumping in front of the knife-wielding spirit. He just couldn't save himself.
Finally, the man turned away from the grave, back to the car his brother had so dearly loved. He had considered stowing it in a garage some place, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Memories of a promise from an earlier time floated to the forefront of his mind, when his brother had made him promise to take care of his baby.
The man slid into the driver's seat, a place he had rarely gotten to sit before his brother's death, and turned on the radio. The low tones of one of his brother's favorite rock tapes drifted through the speakers. His hands curled around the worn shape of the steering wheel. He looked out through the window at the lonely headstone. Then, he glanced up at the sky, for surely his brother was up there now, after all he'd done.
He flipped the ignition and the car roared to life. He glanced at the small, golden amulet that now hung from the rearview mirror. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a well-worn picture of his late brother. Smiling, he set it up on the dash. Who said his brother couldn't still ride shotgun? He turned his eyes one last time to the headstone, and as he pulled away, softly whispered, 'Goodbye Dean'.