It was a bright day - perfect for Anna. She'd have liked that. Sure, I didn't know her long... But I liked what I did know.
Sammy and I had rented tuxes for everyone, and we were sat in the back of a black limo. Limos weren't really the vehicle of choice for funerals, and it certainly wasn't to draw attention; we all wanted to travel together, and this was the only way to do it.
The atmosphere in the graveyard was a tangible one, but not as morose as I expected. Jimmy was stroking a gentle hand over the wings of the three-foot angel that served as Anna's headstone, and he was not crying, even as the priest delivered his last rites.
Dean was comforting Castiel, who was crying, albeit silently. There were lots of people there, most that even the two young Novaks didn't know, and, when the service was done, kept telling us all how sorry they were. Empty words when delivered from strangers.
One of Anna's friends pointed out how unfair it was that the boys should be living alone, and invited them to stay with her... But Dean quickly saw to that, explaining that Castiel and his brother would be staying with him for the forseeable future.
Anna had left the boys her house. Well... Cas and Dean. She must've amended her will shortly before her death to include Dean. She knew Castiel would never live without Jimmy... As Dean wouldn't live without Sam, and Sam without me; at least, I liked to think that.
We didn't have a wake... Nobody needed to dwell. We got home, opened all the windows, flooding the rooms with the tendrils of shining light, and I loved to watch the way the sun danced over Sam's shirtless back as he strained to move our room around- We were maximising the space we had, because I was moving in officially. And I had stuff.
Castiel was drawing on the wall in his room, a fantastical fresco of silver against the white paint. It was fascinating to watch, and Dean was enraptured, singing along softly to the music playing. Jimmy was sat on mine and Sammy's bed with his legs folded, flicking through my old novel that I wrote when I was fourteen- it wasn't half bad, actually- and laughing when he smiled at the kinkier parts. He was, Sam reminded me, autistic- not stupid. Or without porn.
It wasn't a happy atmosphere... But it wasn't sad either. It was contented. We were at peace despite our mourning. I think Jimmy helped with that. He seem at ease with his mother's death. He was unhappy about it, sure- but he'd said his goodbyes. I think that was important to him.
Sam was staring at me. I beamed, kissing him gently. "I love you." He breathed.
"I love you too, gorgeous." I answered quietly, watching him blush at Jimmy's gaze.
There was a loud bang, and I darted into the room beside ours; Dean and Castiel's.
"Whoa! No, boys! Not with the door open!" The bang had been the bed as it collapsed, and Dean and Cas were lay on top of it, making out viciously.
We'd be fine. We'd all be fine.