Pyre
You can’t dig a grave in January. Not that it matters, Bobby’s not going in the ground. Dean’s already got the pyre built: wood stacked high on the cold, hard earth.
The grass crunches underfoot as Sam makes his way to where his brother waits. His eyes are dry but filled with grief as he carries Bobby’s body to its final destination.
Sam cries, finally, and Dean stares into the flames, remembering another pyre. He’d felt grief then, and rage and crushing guilt. He’s going to get Dick Roman like he’d gotten Azazel. Then it’ll be his turn to burn.