Moving Sam proved to be harder than Bobby had thought. Not just the physical part but seeing him so…so still only made the lump in his throat grow tighter. They got to the impala, both of them out of breath. Bobby opened the door to the back seat and then paused, what was happening was too surreal. He removed his cap, running a hand through his short hair before putting it on again. Dean held on to Sam, somehow able to hold him by his shoulders.
"Do you want to- "
"I'm staying with him, Bobby." His monotone voice made Bobby look down at the ground. He nodded hastily.
"Sure, son. I'll drive" Bobby grabbed the keys and got in the driver's seat, drawing a shaky breath before casting a look in the rearview mirror. Dean had managed to place Sam in the backseat and had bundled up his jacket to place Sam's head on it in his lap. The drive was a daze to Bobby, like one of those nightmares you're stuck in and you struggle to wake up. He wished he could. Dean's absolute silence made Bobby uneasy, he was just waiting for him to do something, anything. He studied Dean through the rearview mirror, he was looking down at Sam with an almost apathetic expression. After a while, Bobby pulled over by one of the hunters' cabins that were spread out, they came to good use every now and then. This one had seen better days, he was sure Rufus had stayed here at some time but that had to be at least ten years ago. From Dean's lack of reaction Bobby realized he probably didn't know they had stopped.
"Dean." There was no change in his expression so Bobby took a deep breath before opening the door and climbing out of the driver's seat. He noticed that his hands were a bit red, blood. Pushing the thought away quickly he opened Dean's door. The rain had stopped, he noticed. So had Dean's tears, his face completely blank of any emotion.
"I'll help you okay? We'll uh- we'll carry him inside." Dean slowly adjusted Sam's head so he could step out of the car, not saying a word. His eyes briefly met Bobby's, making him almost shy back from their lifeless, dark expression. His usually green eyes were the darkest Bobby had ever seen them. He set a hand on Dean's shoulder, not sure of what comfort he could possibly give him.
"Alright, I can carry him by his right shoulder and you can- "Bobby was stopped short when Dean abruptly turned away from them, taking an unsteady step away from the car before throwing up on the ground. His shoulders heaved at the effort and Bobby helped him to a full standing position before releasing his hold. Dean was taking short, shaky breaths, wobbling slightly.
"Sit down, you need to sit down." Bobby said as calmly as he could at the moment, hiding his alarm at seeing Dean like this. Dean didn't protest, sliding down to the ground, back resting against the door of the impala. He rested his head in his hands, drawing hiccupping breaths. Bobby couldn't hide his alarm now; the boy was starting to panic. He kneeled down in front of him, desperately trying to think of anything to say that could help. He knew there really wasn't.
"Dean, let's get inside okay? You'll be freezing out here." Dean looked up warily, eyes filled with unexpected rage. Bobby diverted his gaze.
"So? What does it matter?" He said, voice cracking. Dean was now staring down at his hands, unclenching and clenching them as if there was some scratch he couldn't itch. "Sam's gone and it's our fault." He muttered. Bobby put a hand on his shoulder but removed it shortly after seeing Dean's scowl.
"Listen to me. This is not our fault. This is the demon's fault, you know that, Dean." Dean chuckled bitterly, a shiver running through him.
"Let's not kid ourselves. We were too late Bobby. If we had showed up earlier, if I just had that vision a little earlier and if you had actually caught the guy who did this instead of letting him get away. None of this would have happened." Bobby realized that no matter what he said he would just piss Dean off even more. "I failed him." He mumbled in surprised disbelief. Bobby stood up straight, stretching his back slightly before looking down at Dean.
"I'm going to get him inside okay? If you want to stay here, I understand." He was met with silence so he took a breath and focused on the task ahead. Five minutes later and a lot sweatier he placed Sam on a mattress that had been left behind. He looked down at his tall figure with a shaky breath. To Bobby it was only yesterday since John left the boys with him when he went on some hunt. Sam had been a little cautious, those big hazel eyes looking up at him. Seeing his big brother at ease had made him relax. Bobby smiled sadly to himself, that boy had practically been following his older brother around everywhere, studying him. Now he laid on the mattress before him, pale and lifeless. Bobby knew he had to focus on Dean and on finding the demon but that wasn't going to be easy since Dean had never let anyone take care of him.
Bobby hadn't underestimated that thought. At any attempt to get Dean to get some rest or eat something he was just met with an unresponsive, dead look. It had almost been a day now. Bobby would leave to get supplies and find Dean an hour later just as he'd left him, standing by the mattress, staring down at his dead brother. What was killing was that he had no idea what was going on in his head. It scared him. Seeing Dean glance at one of the guns on the table made Bobby very reluctant to leave the cabin again. Sometimes he thought he could hear Dean talking but he wasn't sure if it was to himself or to Sam. During the second night he woke up startled. Dean was screaming in his sleep, tears running down his cheeks. Bobby tried to shake him awake and Dean's eyes looked into his. He had never seen anyone look so old and young at the same time.
"Sammy?" Dean panted, barely awake. Bobby swallowed, easing Dean down again.
"It's okay, Dean. Go back to sleep." Dean shifted around anxiously and Bobby knew he wouldn't get much sleep at all.
"I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean mumbled." Bobby sat at his side for a minute, chest too heavy at the moment to move. What was troubling him was that Dean wasn't grieving, not really. Bobby could see that behind his dark, empty eyes, he was thinking, trying to find some escape. The following morning the gray circles under Dean's eyes matched the gray walls of the cabin. Everything was gray now, the walls, the sky, Sam's skin, the air around them. Bobby felt like he could drown in it. Dean's drinking was a growing concern, he wasn't eating, just pouring down whisky or beer like his life depended on it. Which in a sense, Dean probably felt that it did. The pressing issue now was convincing Dean to burn Sam's body. It would be an important step in moving on and Bobby couldn't ignore the smell for much longer. That afternoon Bobby brought a bucket of fried chicken, hoping that Dean would eat something. He shut the door behind him, seeing Dean once again standing by Sam's body.
"Dean? Brought you this back." He said, putting the bucket down on the table.
"No thanks, I'm fine." Dean replied, not moving an inch. Bobby suppressed a sigh.
"You should eat something." He tried again.
"I said I'm fine." The edge to his tone made Bobby drop it. Dean came around to the table, taking a swig of beer. Bobby looked down, realizing that in the time he'd been gone Dean had downed a few more bottles.
"Dean…I hate to bring this up, I really do. But don't you think maybe it's time…we bury Sam?" Dean looked up at him with hard eyes.
"No." He said definitely, sitting down.
"We could…" Bobby sighed. "Maybe- "
"What? Torch his corpse? Not yet." Bobby knew Dean wouldn't budge. He tried a different approach.
"I want you to come with me." Dean glared up at him again.
"I'm not going anywhere." He said evenly.
"Dean, please- "
"Would you cut me some slack?" Dean spat. Bobby decided to ignore him.
"I just don't think you should be alone, that's all. I've got to admit; I could use your help." Dean snorted.
"Something big is going down- end of the world big." He carried on, noticing Dean's posture growing more rigid by the second.
"Well, then let it end!" Dean yelled, glowering up at him. Bobby was caught off guard, stomach sinking at the realization that Dean meant it.
"You don't mean that." He said, willing Dean to believe it was true. And himself. Dean stood up, nostrils flaring.
"You don't think so? Huh? You don't think I've given enough?" Bobby looked down, unable to hold Dean's gaze. "You don't think I've paid enough? I'm done with it. All of it. And if you know what's good for you, you'd turn around, and get the hell out of here." Bobby shook his head, refusing to believe Dean was so far gone.
"Go!" Dean yelled, pushing him away. Bobby just stared back at him, not recognizing the man standing in front of him at all. There was a flicker of remorse in Dean's eyes.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please just go." Bobby knew there was no other choice. He hated it, but Dean had to come out of this alone. He wouldn't and couldn't be helped. Bobby turned around with a sigh.
"You know where I'll be." He said and walked out, not looking back.
The ride to his house was a blur, all he could see and think about was Dean's lifeless eyes, and Sam's pale figure on the mattress. The silence was almost deafening in the rooms of his house. He cast a look at the couch, seeing the boys as children playing for a second before looking away. Bobby had never been their father but he'd always been there, watching them grow up into men, into hunters. Now, everywhere he looked in this house he saw them, the memories of all the times they'd stayed here when John hadn't wanted them to come along. Not following his own advice to Dean to eat something, he drank instead. The pain didn't fade completely, it just ebbed away into to a dull slumber. Morning came and Bobby finally gathered his strength to start the research. The cattle deaths and demonic omens were a few of the signs telling him something big was about to go down. A knock on the door made him jump in his seat. Muttering, he made his way to the door and opened it. Instantly he felt like shutting it again and pushing his head into to a bucket full of ice. He blinked, mouth falling open at the sight before him. Sam was standing there next to his brother, alive and seemingly fine. Dean was judging his reaction; he could feel it. He also knew that he had to play along with this, Dean's eyes were practically screaming at him to not say anything.
"Hey Bobby." Dean broke the silence, eyes falling to the ground.
"Hey Bobby." Sam joined in, smile on his lips. Bobby snapped out of it.
"Sam… it's good to…see you up and around." He said, his suspicion towards Dean growing by the second. In all honesty, he was scared for him. God only knew what he'd gotten himself into to have Sam standing here alive next to him.
"Yeah… thanks for patching me up." Sam patted him on the back and walked past him into the house. So that was the explanation Dean had given him.
"Don't mention it." Dean followed Sam and Bobby gave him a hard look.
"Well, Sam's better. And we're back in it now, so… what do you know?" Dean asked stiffly. Sam looked at Dean curiously, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Bobby couldn't believe this was happening. He stared into Dean's eyes, the relief of Sam's return was there but they were still haunted by loss. All he wanted to do was yell at him, scream, anything. Whatever Dean had done, it was bad, really bad. He had no perception of his own self-worth and it made Bobby's heart sink. Dean just didn't care; he didn't see it at all. The price of bringing Sam back didn't matter. Seeing the look in Dean's eyes Bobby knew there had been no other choice for him, it was worth it to Dean, Sam meant everything. It would always be worth it. Bobby couldn't deny that it terrified him. More than anything.
