(TW: Suicide) Wincest Unhinged #1 Three weeks after Sam Winchester died in Cold Oak South Dakota, Bobby Singer received a text message from an unknown number.
"No demon would deal. I can't burn his body. I can't watch that." -D
The old man sighed in relief. Dean Winchester was still alive. Part of him had expected Dean to eat a bullet the moment after he had left.
Dean didn't want to live without Sam, but maybe, Dean would at least come with him, help stop the horde of demons that had been set free…
A realization hit him. Dean had been in that cabin for 3 weeks with Sam's rotting body. He didnt want to think of the condition either of them were in.
It only took Bobby 4 hours to get to the cabin. From the outside everything looked peaceful, calm, and beautiful.
Bobby looked around for the Impala. He didnt see it. Bobby opened the door to his car and got out. An odd kix of smells filled the air.
"Dean!" He called. "Dean where you at?"
Bobby opened the door to the cabin and peeked in. The bed they had laid Sam on was empty, the table with the food he brought laid molded and forgotten.
"Dean?" Bobby called, almost gagging.
Something crinkled under his boot. Bobby looked down at a note.
Dean had gotten Sam a beautiful pine box for his pyre. Had built it overlooking the lake. The bottom part of the casket was covered by flowers and photos of the brothers at every stage of life. Among the flowers and photos Bobby could see Deans cherished amulet.
Dean had left it. Knowing Dean, he saw himself as undeserving of wearing it, had twisted his mind that he believed himself to be a failure for having let Sam get killed.
Bobby recognized the smell of gasoline, and salt, masked by the flowers and decay.
Bobby took a deep breath, and took out his lighter. Sam had given it to him last year. He watched the flame flicker brightly, and then tossed it onto the pyre.
Bobby watched the flames consume the wood, then slowly work its way to the casket, the flowers, and photos, and then the amulet, catching fire.
Bobby felt his phone vibrate. A sick, overwhelming feeling of dread hit him like a wave. Normally out of respect, he wouldn't have touched his phone until the pyre had burnt out. But something told him to look.
A text message from the same unknown number.
"Thank you. I couldn't let him go alone."
Bobby swallowed, looking around frantically for Dean. Surely he had to be somewhere, watching? Bobby went into the cabin, searching, calling the phone number, listening, hoping to hear it ringing somewhere..
"Dean!?" Bobby all but screamed, frantically looking. He ran up the stairs, stumbling and falling hard on the last step. He pulled himself up, ignoring the throbbing pain in his leg. He went into the bedroom that faced the lake and pulled back the tattered curtains and looked out, scanning, searching the shore across the lake for Dean.
In the water he could see the flames' reflection shining off of something black and shiny.
His stomach dropped. It was the top of a car.
Bobby kept calling again and again, praying, he hadn't prayed since his wife died. No answer.
Bobby went back to the pyre, maybe he could see Dean, or hear the phone better out, something, anything…
One ring, two ring, three ring… Bobby heard the sound of a ringtone, faint, but there, close, so close, it rang again, and Bobby turned his head to the sound, realizing with sickening horror that it was coming from the now fully engulfed casket…
Bobby called one more time.
The call went straight to voicemail.
