A hunter's funeral was a solemn occasion. There were no official words, no blessings to send the soul off into the dark night beyond death. Hunters knew what was waiting for them. The pyre was just a way to be certain that their friends, their family, could not be used by the darkness that resided here on Earth. There were never many people at a hunter's funeral, but tonight, Bill Harvelle became a rare exception to that rule. He was honored by presence of not only his friends, but by his friends' family, too, and though he had no family to speak of, there was one person there who could perhaps claim that honor.
Firelight flickered in through the upstairs window, illuminating the darkness of the room where Dean and Nim had lain unconscious and recuperating for most of the day. It stroked, golden and dappling, over Nim's face as she stood at that window, looking down at the sad scene, her arms wrapped about herself in quiet regret. The flames had already been burning when she woke, and so she had chosen to just stand here and say her goodbyes, to make her peace with the man who had given his life defending hers, and hope that they could make his death worthwhile in the battles that were to come.
Dean had slept like the dead for most of the day, recuperating from pain and exhaustion. There had been no celebration following the wedding, no toast, no feast, no drinking, no dancing. A day that had begun with a wedding was ending with a funeral, and Dean did not yet even know that anyone had died. He was slow to wake, not long after Nimue had left the bed, as if somehow sensing she was no longer there, eyes opening slowly to find the room lit by what appeared to be flickering flames outside the window. An umistakeable silhouette stood near that window, and Dean's heart suddenly thumped in alarm. Fire had never been one of his favorite things, always associated with death, ever since he was four. "Nim?" he asked from the bed, shoving a hand through his hair as he pushed himself up to peer over at her in the darkness.
She drew her eyes slowly from the pyre outside, somehow knowing without needing to ask that the other hunters would hold vigil over the burning embers until Bill was well and truly gone. A faint smile, not quite without mirth but sadder than any Dean had seen from her, touched her lips, darkening her eyes in the flickering illumination from below. "Hey, baby," she murmured, holding out a hand to him. "I didn't want to wake you."
He didn't have to ask what was going on outside. He'd seen enough death to know they weren't just roasting marshmallows over a bonfire out there. His heart sunk at the look on her face, sensing the sadness in her even from clear across the room. Everything had happened so fast. Who had died" Was it Brian' Had everything they'd tried to do been in vain" What was the point of knowing what would happen if it couldn't be changed" "Who?" he asked, as he threw the covers off and climbed out of bed to go to her side.
Her eyes turned back to the flickering pyre outside as he rose from the bed, quiet and sorrowful and tortured with guilt. "Bill," she told him softly, in enough pain to feel the loss but grateful she hadn't grown attached to the hunter. That would have been too cruel. "He saved my life, and this is what it got him." The unspoken comment was loud and clear. This is my fault.
Dean felt like he'd been kicked in gut at the news that Bill had been killed, yet at the same time, he felt a sense of relief that it hadn't been Ellen or Bobby or Brian. A life was still a life, however, and each life was as valuable as another. It struck Dean as ironic how they'd initially tried to prevent Bill from being killed but had ended up with the same outcome, despite their efforts. Dean sensed the guilt in her voice and the sorrow. Though Nim hadn't known him very well, the part of her that was Jo had loved him and now had to mourn him all over again.
"I'm sorry, baby," Dean said as he went to her side, taking her hand and pulling her toward him to hold her close. He hadn't seen what had happened to Bill in the church, how he'd given his life to save Nim, and he felt a deep sense of guilt and grief at the man's death, but he knew that was not what Nim wanted to hear right now or needed. What she needed was for him to be there for her, to comfort and console her and try to make Bill's death in some way meaningful and not senseless.
She turned easily into him, only too happy to hold and be held, to keep the guilt and grief at bay just a little while longer. Her face pressed into his chest as she breathed him in, looping her arms about his waist to console him as he consoled her. It wasn't anyone's fault, truly, and they both knew it, but that wouldn't keep the guilt from falling on both of them as the days rolled onward. She tipped her head finally, resting her cheek over Dean's heart as her dark eyes turned once again to the scene outside.
"He took out an Alpha with just a machete," she murmured softly, honoring the death by telling the tale as calmly as she could. "I didn't even see it, really. He just appeared out of nowhere, and suddenly the Alpha that had its hands on my throat was headless. He helped me up on my feet, made sure I was okay. I didn't see it coming. Just ....one minute he was there, smiling and looking smug, and the next his throat was wide open." She shook her head, her arms tightening around her husband. "I took my eye off the ball, and it got him killed."
Dean listened quietly as she said what she needed to say, just holding her close as she told the tale, stroking her hair, doing his best to comfort her in her time of grief. He knew how much Bill had meant to the Jo he'd known back home, and even if she wasn't his daughter in this place, he was still her father. "He was a hero," Dean said quietly, just as his own father had been a hero, sacrificing his own life so that Dean lived. It had never occurred to Dean until that very moment just what that sacrifice had meant. He'd always felt guilty that his own father had made that choice for him, but he suddenly seemed to understand it, knowing if it had been Sam or Hope, he'd have done the same thing in a heartbeat. "It's not your fault." If it was anyone's fault, Dean thought it was his. He should have stuck to Nim like glue, protected her, instead of going after the Alpha alone.
"It's not yours, either," she murmured softly. Though the grief was there, it felt detached, far away, as though some part of her she couldn't reach or touch was feeling it to spare her the immediacy of that pain. "It's Hades', and whoever Sam and Hope came back to deal with. We owe them so much, Dean. They didn't just save us, they saved our family. All of our family."
"They're real then," he murmured, half wondering if they'd been part of some strange dream or some half conscious hallucination. He sighed a little as he held her close, glancing toward the window. "We should pay our respects," he told her quietly, unsure if they should go down there or Bill would mind if they paid their respects from the privacy of the window. It was a hell of a way to celebrate a wedding, but at least, Hades had failed in stopping that, and Dean felt a debt of gratitude toward the man who was Jo's father. If it wasn't for him, he might already be a widower.
"I don't want to go down there," Nim whispered guiltily. "I can't face the others, not knowing that he wouldn't have died if it hadn't been for me. Not yet." Not to mention the fact that she genuinely couldn't get her head around the fact that the child growing in her womb was also walking and talking, had a younger sister for a shadow, and apparently just turned twenty-one. "I'm sorry ....You go down. I'll just - I'm staying here tonight."
Firelight flickered in through the upstairs window, illuminating the darkness of the room where Dean and Nim had lain unconscious and recuperating for most of the day. It stroked, golden and dappling, over Nim's face as she stood at that window, looking down at the sad scene, her arms wrapped about herself in quiet regret. The flames had already been burning when she woke, and so she had chosen to just stand here and say her goodbyes, to make her peace with the man who had given his life defending hers, and hope that they could make his death worthwhile in the battles that were to come.
Dean had slept like the dead for most of the day, recuperating from pain and exhaustion. There had been no celebration following the wedding, no toast, no feast, no drinking, no dancing. A day that had begun with a wedding was ending with a funeral, and Dean did not yet even know that anyone had died. He was slow to wake, not long after Nimue had left the bed, as if somehow sensing she was no longer there, eyes opening slowly to find the room lit by what appeared to be flickering flames outside the window. An umistakeable silhouette stood near that window, and Dean's heart suddenly thumped in alarm. Fire had never been one of his favorite things, always associated with death, ever since he was four. "Nim?" he asked from the bed, shoving a hand through his hair as he pushed himself up to peer over at her in the darkness.
She drew her eyes slowly from the pyre outside, somehow knowing without needing to ask that the other hunters would hold vigil over the burning embers until Bill was well and truly gone. A faint smile, not quite without mirth but sadder than any Dean had seen from her, touched her lips, darkening her eyes in the flickering illumination from below. "Hey, baby," she murmured, holding out a hand to him. "I didn't want to wake you."
He didn't have to ask what was going on outside. He'd seen enough death to know they weren't just roasting marshmallows over a bonfire out there. His heart sunk at the look on her face, sensing the sadness in her even from clear across the room. Everything had happened so fast. Who had died" Was it Brian' Had everything they'd tried to do been in vain" What was the point of knowing what would happen if it couldn't be changed" "Who?" he asked, as he threw the covers off and climbed out of bed to go to her side.
Her eyes turned back to the flickering pyre outside as he rose from the bed, quiet and sorrowful and tortured with guilt. "Bill," she told him softly, in enough pain to feel the loss but grateful she hadn't grown attached to the hunter. That would have been too cruel. "He saved my life, and this is what it got him." The unspoken comment was loud and clear. This is my fault.
Dean felt like he'd been kicked in gut at the news that Bill had been killed, yet at the same time, he felt a sense of relief that it hadn't been Ellen or Bobby or Brian. A life was still a life, however, and each life was as valuable as another. It struck Dean as ironic how they'd initially tried to prevent Bill from being killed but had ended up with the same outcome, despite their efforts. Dean sensed the guilt in her voice and the sorrow. Though Nim hadn't known him very well, the part of her that was Jo had loved him and now had to mourn him all over again.
"I'm sorry, baby," Dean said as he went to her side, taking her hand and pulling her toward him to hold her close. He hadn't seen what had happened to Bill in the church, how he'd given his life to save Nim, and he felt a deep sense of guilt and grief at the man's death, but he knew that was not what Nim wanted to hear right now or needed. What she needed was for him to be there for her, to comfort and console her and try to make Bill's death in some way meaningful and not senseless.
She turned easily into him, only too happy to hold and be held, to keep the guilt and grief at bay just a little while longer. Her face pressed into his chest as she breathed him in, looping her arms about his waist to console him as he consoled her. It wasn't anyone's fault, truly, and they both knew it, but that wouldn't keep the guilt from falling on both of them as the days rolled onward. She tipped her head finally, resting her cheek over Dean's heart as her dark eyes turned once again to the scene outside.
"He took out an Alpha with just a machete," she murmured softly, honoring the death by telling the tale as calmly as she could. "I didn't even see it, really. He just appeared out of nowhere, and suddenly the Alpha that had its hands on my throat was headless. He helped me up on my feet, made sure I was okay. I didn't see it coming. Just ....one minute he was there, smiling and looking smug, and the next his throat was wide open." She shook her head, her arms tightening around her husband. "I took my eye off the ball, and it got him killed."
Dean listened quietly as she said what she needed to say, just holding her close as she told the tale, stroking her hair, doing his best to comfort her in her time of grief. He knew how much Bill had meant to the Jo he'd known back home, and even if she wasn't his daughter in this place, he was still her father. "He was a hero," Dean said quietly, just as his own father had been a hero, sacrificing his own life so that Dean lived. It had never occurred to Dean until that very moment just what that sacrifice had meant. He'd always felt guilty that his own father had made that choice for him, but he suddenly seemed to understand it, knowing if it had been Sam or Hope, he'd have done the same thing in a heartbeat. "It's not your fault." If it was anyone's fault, Dean thought it was his. He should have stuck to Nim like glue, protected her, instead of going after the Alpha alone.
"It's not yours, either," she murmured softly. Though the grief was there, it felt detached, far away, as though some part of her she couldn't reach or touch was feeling it to spare her the immediacy of that pain. "It's Hades', and whoever Sam and Hope came back to deal with. We owe them so much, Dean. They didn't just save us, they saved our family. All of our family."
"They're real then," he murmured, half wondering if they'd been part of some strange dream or some half conscious hallucination. He sighed a little as he held her close, glancing toward the window. "We should pay our respects," he told her quietly, unsure if they should go down there or Bill would mind if they paid their respects from the privacy of the window. It was a hell of a way to celebrate a wedding, but at least, Hades had failed in stopping that, and Dean felt a debt of gratitude toward the man who was Jo's father. If it wasn't for him, he might already be a widower.
"I don't want to go down there," Nim whispered guiltily. "I can't face the others, not knowing that he wouldn't have died if it hadn't been for me. Not yet." Not to mention the fact that she genuinely couldn't get her head around the fact that the child growing in her womb was also walking and talking, had a younger sister for a shadow, and apparently just turned twenty-one. "I'm sorry ....You go down. I'll just - I'm staying here tonight."