Roads Untraveled ~ Sam Winchester

Chapter Twenty - Goodbye

Elizabeth wasn't sure when it happened, but she was in the passenger seat of the Impala in Sam's arms. Dean was driving passed the South Dakota state line marker.
"Sam?" She whispered.
"Elizabeth. Oh, thank God... We were really worried. You've been catatonic for hours." Sam sighed, nuzzling his nose into her cheek as he gripped her tighter.
"Where are we going?" The Vampire asked.
"Back to the house. He would've wanted his Hunter's funeral on his property." Dean answered.
Elizabeth didn't reply. She simply leaned her head on Sam's shoulder and closed her eyes until she felt the Impala pull into the salvage yard.

They sat in the living area drinking Bobby's whiskey - or blood in Elizabeth's case, until dark.
"I'm gunna go build the pyre." Elizabeth mumbled, getting up from her seat on the couch.
"I'll help." Sam said, moving to get up.
"No. No, it's fine. You guys just relax and drink. You took care of me earlier, now let me do the hard bit."

Bobby's wood shack at the rear of the property was stacked high with trunks ready for chopping for his fireplace. They'd be perfect for the pyre.
One by one, Elizabeth slung the trunks over her shoulder and took them out, building the pyre just as she'd had to do more times than she cared to think about.
She'd gone numb again.
Building had barely even registered in her head, but soon enough, she was done.
She went back inside to grab the boys.
Together, they wrapped Bobby's body and took it outside, setting him down gently on top of the wood pile.
"Does anyone wanna say a few words?" Sam asked.
Clutching the whiskey bottle tightly, Dean took a step forward.
"You were there when dad wasn't. In some ways, you were more of a father to us than he ever could be. I know I can't thank you enough for that, Bobby. You taught me how to throw a football right, how to maintain an alcohol tolerance, how to work the freakin' washer. We're gunna miss the Hell outta you. And uh... We love you." Dean sniffed, pouring some of the whiskey onto the pyre before taking a large gulp as he stepped back.
"What he said, if I'm honest. You've helped us in so many ways. You never let us down, always told us exactly what you thought and what we needed to hear. You never took any crap from anyone. You were our hero - our family. So yeah, we love you, Bobby. And we'll spend the rest of our lives honouring you." Sam said, looking down at Elizabeth next to him.
"I suppose it's my turn..." She sighed, taking a step forward, trying to think of the right words. Once she had, she looked down and gave a small chuckle. "I remember this time after a case, you, John and I stopped at a diner. We ended up talking about my past, but I was trying to remain as vague as possible about time specifics so that you wouldn't clock onto what I was. I told you about my mother. John compared my upbringing to Sam and Dean's - being in the life, always on the road. He compared me to Sam, always with my nose stuck in some book relevant to hunting whilst my mother was out on a case. You agreed. You said 'I've always seen similarities between you and that boy'." Elizabeth gave a small smile, looking back at Sam, who did the same. "How right you were. I suppose you saw it more and more since we've come closer. But what I remember most about that night, a part from it being the first night I laid eyes on those boys, sleeping peacefully in their motel room, was the conversation we had on the couch when we got back here. You said I was doing you and John some good. I really hope you still thought that after you found out what I was. I swear, I'll never forget you, Bobby. Not even if I live a million years. I love you so bloody much. It's been a Hell of a ride."
She stepped back as Dean stepped forward, dousing the pyre with gasoline. Then came the match box.
Elizabeth flinched as they burst into flames.
Dean lazily threw them onto the pyre, causing it to burst into a massive ball of fire.
They stood in silence as it burned; the only noise that wasn't the crackling of the wood was the whiskey sloshing around in the bottle Dean held as he took the occasional gulp.

"You never told us you saw us before we actually met." Sam commented as the trio sat back down in Bobby's living area.
"Never really occurred to me." Elizabeth shrugged.
"Dad and Bobby really thought you were like Sam?" Dean frowned. "All this time, I've been thinking you were just the female version of me..."
Elizabeth cocked a brow.
"You wish you were this cool, Winchester."
Sam gave a small chuckle, drinking from his whiskey glass.
"What other stories do you have?" He asked.
Elizabeth curled up under his opened arm, thinking for a moment.
"There was this time we were seeing who would get drunk first - your dad or Bobby. You guys were asleep upstairs and they'd invited me over. I'd brought over a couple of crates of beer and they had to chug whole bottles as fast as they could. First one to quit or stop to pee lost."
"Who won?" Dean's eyes glistened with fascination.
"Oh, Bobby. Hands down." Elizabeth scoffed, taking a sip from her glass of blood. "Your dad never stood a bloody chance."