Bobby helps him to move Jacob to the outskirts when it’s all over, when the entire neighbourhood is quiet and empty save for two humans and one dead body.
Jimmy is silent as he tries his best to clean up the bloody mess that was once his brother’s stomach, stoic even as his hands are stained twice over with blood and the red has long seeped into the front of his clothes. The older hunter doesn’t count how many rags Jimmy goes through before the other finally manages to put Jacob back together in a presentable state. He even stitches his brother back up, almost as if he’s simply stitching up a usual knife wound and not Jacob’s entire stomach.
There are many things that Bobby can say to that—you gotta let him go, son and this won’t change anything at all or do you think he wants you to act like this, boy? But he keeps quiet and continues to watch Jimmy with his eyes, watches as the younger hunter dresses his brother in a fresh layer of clothes that could be either Jimmy or Jacob’s but really, with these two there has never been any boundaries, any lines. What had been Jacob’s is Jimmy’s too, and Bobby can respect that much.
Bobby lets Jimmy have his ten minutes of silence before he walks towards the younger man, gently placing a hand on his shoulder before speaking quietly. “Jimmy—”
“No.” The response is already out even before Bobby can finish talking—then again, it’s not as if the topic wasn’t hard to guess.
Biting back a sigh, Bobby gives himself a mental count to three before talking again. “Son, we’ve got to do it. You know the drill.” It hurts him as well, but Bobby knows that somebody has got to be realistic here. They need to cover every base they’ve got.
Jimmy only repeats himself, this time with even more force than before. “No, Bobby.”
Bobby knows that tone, and he knows that there’s no way he can go against this. He sighs wearily, pulling the brim of his cap over his eyes and remains quiet for a moment. “Alright. What do you plan to do then?” Given just how close the brothers were with each other, Bobby supposes he can give Jimmy this much… even if he isn’t comforted by it. The brothers have always been the death of each other, but yet…
It takes a few moments before Jimmy answers the question. “We’ll bury him.”
“We don’t have a—”
“I’ll make one.”
And what can he say to that? Bobby sucks in a breath, nodding even though he’s standing behind Jimmy and the other hunter probably even wouldn’t see it, with the way he’s staring at his brother. “I’ll try to find some wood for you to do that. That okay, son?”
Jimmy nods, and Bobby knows that it’s the best that he can get so he turns away, starting to walk back into the neighbourhood to find whatever they need to make a damned coffin. As he walks, he doesn’t even need to turn back to see the tears that roll off Jimmy’s face, or hear the broken sobs that echo within the silence soon after.