Fic: Supernatural drabble
Title: none
Fandon: Supernatural
Pairing: none
Summary: Based on the prompt 'Sam and Bobby bury Dean' from stardustandsand.
A/N: spoilers for the end of season 3. 194 words.
The skeletal trees stood in a circle around them, peering down upon the scene like bent and withered grandmothers, sapped by the heat and bleached by the beating summer sun. The grass crunched and rustled in the dry wind that carried no coolness on its callous gusts, only dust.
Bobby's hands ached from shoveling, and he shoved them into his pockets as though, out of sight, they would also be out of mind. He stared at the pile of crumbling earth and knew that burial did not remove things from thought, only swept them to the corners and made them part of the background, a thick and pressing haze hovering at the corners of your eyes.
He looked sideways at Sam, straight-backed and hard-eyed. "Do you wanna s- ?"
"No." Sam's voice was flatter than the heat and emptier than the hollow trees that bore witness to the spartan funereal rites. "It's done."
He turned and walked with measured steps across the brittle grass that crunched like bones beneath his feet. Bobby did not watch Sam leave. He stared at the ground with his hands in his pockets and listened to the dust stirring.
Fandon: Supernatural
Pairing: none
Summary: Based on the prompt 'Sam and Bobby bury Dean' from stardustandsand.
A/N: spoilers for the end of season 3. 194 words.
The skeletal trees stood in a circle around them, peering down upon the scene like bent and withered grandmothers, sapped by the heat and bleached by the beating summer sun. The grass crunched and rustled in the dry wind that carried no coolness on its callous gusts, only dust.
Bobby's hands ached from shoveling, and he shoved them into his pockets as though, out of sight, they would also be out of mind. He stared at the pile of crumbling earth and knew that burial did not remove things from thought, only swept them to the corners and made them part of the background, a thick and pressing haze hovering at the corners of your eyes.
He looked sideways at Sam, straight-backed and hard-eyed. "Do you wanna s- ?"
"No." Sam's voice was flatter than the heat and emptier than the hollow trees that bore witness to the spartan funereal rites. "It's done."
He turned and walked with measured steps across the brittle grass that crunched like bones beneath his feet. Bobby did not watch Sam leave. He stared at the ground with his hands in his pockets and listened to the dust stirring.