Hi there. Just a one-shot set after 7x10 so spoilers for that episode. Hope you enjoy.
I own nothing to do with SPN but do like to play with the boys from time to time. Thanks to any who take a look.
He doesn't know why he has come here, sifting among the debris and the charred ruins of the house. He supposes he just needed to be close to the man in some way, in the only way he can now that his life has been cut violently short.
He looks out among the cars, gazes to the endless stream of them that litter the landscape as far as the eye can see. He can almost envision him there, ball cap steadily affixed to his head, working on one of the old vehicles and only stopping now and again as a frustrated 'Balls' echoes out into the night. His heart flutters at the thought, as he realizes he will never hear that sound or word again.
He roams around the yard and places a gentle hand on each car as he passes, saying a silent goodbye to their owner every time his hand meets the metal of frame after frame.
He strolls along, lost in memories and saddened by the scope of loss that has not only blanketed himself and his brother, but has encompassed every single inch of the sky above this graveyard of cars.
A glint of something out of place catches his eye and curiosity pulls him towards it. He crouches down to peer at the object and wonders briefly how it would have gotten way out here. His heart tightens and something may even give way as he grips the phone in his now trembling fingers. He turns it on and is surprised when the face lights up and informs him of one new message.
He shouldn't listen to it, in a way it seems like such a violation. But what if it is someone who needs help? What if someone is waiting somewhere for a call back? He shivers as he realizes that it is a call that will now never come. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as his finger touches the button to bring the message to life.
The amount of despair and pain that seems to radiate from the recorded voice burrows under his skin to leave him breathless and on the verge of panic. It cuts right through him and he is encased in a block of ice, his already fragile body plunged into the same murky blackness of the depths that the owner of that voice is immersed in.
He was right. Someone does need help.
But it isn't a stranger that needs to be saved. It's Dean.
His brother's voice whispers into his ear and he can hear the quiver that is intertwined within it. He can tell that Dean tries to hold in the emotions that were being pulled out of him at that moment, as he stood in the middle of the wreckage, as he absorbed the likelihood that his second father lay dead or dying in the remains of his own home.
Even before the message is done he is moving on unsteady legs toward the car he hotwired to get there. He throws the phone through the open window and grabs his own, clumsy fingers working against him as he attempts to dial his brother's number.
He throws the car into drive and guns it, dirt and debris hurtling out in all directions as Dean's voicemail crackles into life. A feeling of dread spills out from his stomach to race along his veins.
"Dean, you need to call me as soon as you get this. I'm headed back now and I need you to be there when I get back. Please bro, just wait for me."
He can feel the tears begin to roll in earnest down his face. He speeds down the road and Dean's message seems to rewind and reply over and over in his head.
Bobby is gone and it hurts like hell but he will be damned if he is going to lose his brother.
The End. Thanks for stopping by.