Iron Graveyard
Author's Note: See this is what happens to me when I attempt to fall asleep when I'm not really tired. I get struck with ideas. So here's another companion to both Just a Shell and Knowledge to Fill the Void but again I believe it stands on its own. I hope you enjoy this perspective on Bobby's life.
Title: Iron Graveyard
Show: Supernatural
Word Count: 378
Rating: G
Genre: Angst, Gen
Characters: Sam [mentions of Bobby]
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Supernatural
Summary: Briefly he saw a flash of green; a well cared for lawn and garden where now only rust grew.
Sam rinsed his used mug in the sink placing it in the rack to dry before picking up the dish towel to dry his hands. The house was quiet, both Dean and Bobby outside in the yard; giving the Impala a tune-up. Sam stepped over to the window hazel eyes easily finding his brother's gleaming baby among the rows of dust covered cars.
Briefly he saw a flash of green; a well cared for lawn and garden where now only rust grew. Sam knew that dreams were not known for being accurate representations of what was; but the memory had felt so solid under his feet, the scent of flowers bringing a sense of nostalgia despite his never knowing them. The breeze against his skin, the sun on his face, all the details were so sharp that Sam believed it to be true.
The hunter leaned his hip against the windowsill, still staring out at the collection of totaled cars. He wondered what Bobby had done with his life before the death of his wife. Had he simply been a mechanic like John? Turning the home he'd once taken pride in, into a practical base of operations; to change his surroundings so drastically that he could never confuse this 'new' home for the one he'd lost? Sam might have asked if he didn't already know the questions would be unwelcome. Who wanted to be reminded of the past, of events you couldn't change?
Bobby had blotted out almost all traces of his former life with this steel and iron graveyard; burying the gardens and lush grass beneath the hollowed out souls of countless vehicles. Sam found it oddly appropriate that no life lived where an innocent was taken.
It was a wonder to him that Bobby had remained so long in this place; when John had done everything he could to forget Lawrence Kansas. Perhaps there was something within this maze of twisted iron and ancient books that Bobby wasn't willing to let go of.
Sam suspected he was more practical than the lot of them. He had to chuckle at his 'suspicion,' knowing full well what Bobby would have said to that.
'Not hard to do. There's hardly an ounce of sense between the pair of you.'
Thanks for reading
Title: Iron Graveyard
Show: Supernatural
Word Count: 378
Rating: G
Genre: Angst, Gen
Characters: Sam [mentions of Bobby]
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Supernatural
Summary: Briefly he saw a flash of green; a well cared for lawn and garden where now only rust grew.
Sam rinsed his used mug in the sink placing it in the rack to dry before picking up the dish towel to dry his hands. The house was quiet, both Dean and Bobby outside in the yard; giving the Impala a tune-up. Sam stepped over to the window hazel eyes easily finding his brother's gleaming baby among the rows of dust covered cars.
Briefly he saw a flash of green; a well cared for lawn and garden where now only rust grew. Sam knew that dreams were not known for being accurate representations of what was; but the memory had felt so solid under his feet, the scent of flowers bringing a sense of nostalgia despite his never knowing them. The breeze against his skin, the sun on his face, all the details were so sharp that Sam believed it to be true.
The hunter leaned his hip against the windowsill, still staring out at the collection of totaled cars. He wondered what Bobby had done with his life before the death of his wife. Had he simply been a mechanic like John? Turning the home he'd once taken pride in, into a practical base of operations; to change his surroundings so drastically that he could never confuse this 'new' home for the one he'd lost? Sam might have asked if he didn't already know the questions would be unwelcome. Who wanted to be reminded of the past, of events you couldn't change?
Bobby had blotted out almost all traces of his former life with this steel and iron graveyard; burying the gardens and lush grass beneath the hollowed out souls of countless vehicles. Sam found it oddly appropriate that no life lived where an innocent was taken.
It was a wonder to him that Bobby had remained so long in this place; when John had done everything he could to forget Lawrence Kansas. Perhaps there was something within this maze of twisted iron and ancient books that Bobby wasn't willing to let go of.
Sam suspected he was more practical than the lot of them. He had to chuckle at his 'suspicion,' knowing full well what Bobby would have said to that.
'Not hard to do. There's hardly an ounce of sense between the pair of you.'
Thanks for reading