Fic: The Day Bobby Singer Died

[shallowz]

Title: The Day Bobby Singer Died
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: pretty safe
Warnings/spoilers: Current episodes, character death
Word count: around 550
Disclaimer: Not ours, just for fun.
Summary: Episode tag for How to Win Friends and Influence Monsters 

Note: This was a quickie so don’t be shy about shouting out any oops. 

******

The day Bobby Singer died, shocked silence morphed into a slow gathering rumble as hunter after hunter shared the news. 

The day Bobby Singer died was the first day Jody Mills had cried in ten years. The last time she had cried, her twenty-year-old cat hadn’t woken up. That was grief and relief. This was pure grief. 

The day Bobby Singer died was the day the Winchesters disappeared. Again. 

The hunter community gave up counting how many times those boys were supposed to be dead, but there was no mistaking the two tall men in the security cam footage leaving the hospital with expressions that made a seasoned hunter want to duck and cover. 

The slow gathering rumble turned into a roar as the speculation grew and the uneasiness unbearable. Because no one forgot John Winchester and what he had accomplished in the name of his grief. No one forgot the single-minded intensity and the results. If there was one thing that Sam and Dean had proved, it was that they were their father’s sons and that they had surpassed the teacher. 

And Bobby Singer was gone. 

******
The funeral of Robert Singer was held on Friday, October 21^st at 14:00. 

Unofficially.  

In an open field in South Dakota a shrouded corpse lay precise and clean on a carefully staked woodpile. No one knew who set it up, but anyone in the business took a detour to pay their respects to a man that had hauled their asses out of the fire - at least once. 

Singer was a legend on par with John Winchester, and while it was generally accepted that John Winchester had been a hardass, any one of them would have done the same for Winchester if they’d been given the chance. 

So, no one cared where the info came from. They arrived at that windblown field in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and were grateful to do it. 

In the way of funerals, it turned out to be a hunter reunion where the new generation met the old, and the old realized who was gone and who had survived the last mess. The crowd numbered into the hundreds: The old hands, the maimed, the starry-eyed youngsters that were already losing the stars. 

The Winchesters were noticeably absent, but nothing needed saying about that. 

Might have whispered here. Spoke in low tones there. There was news that didn’t involve the creatures that bled black goo, and yet did. 

A semi hauling a load of 20 Mule Borax was stolen from a truck stop outside Council Bluffs, Iowa. 

Luverne, Minnesota, a brand new PTX Tanker-Pumper was driven off the lot of Midwest Fire in the middle of the afternoon. The local news reports were filled with the oddity of why anyone would steal a fire truck capable of pumping 3,000 gallons of water. 

Jody Mills wondered back to that day in the cabin when Bobby kissed her over a bucket of grimy water. 

As she watched the fire consume the body of Bobby Singer, Jody Mills wondered about a lot of things that would never come to be.

End