No, I’m not going to be ok without Bobby. Yes, he has done enough but I don’t care, I need Bobby. This came as a rather surprising revelation. I hadn’t known how much he meant, how much he means. I have been away from fandom for a while. Life got in the way and so I’ve had to take a step back, but I need to grieve Bobby and that will be easier with others. I’m not writing with a plan, I’m just writing as a cathartic release, and I guess we’ll see where it goes.
All through the break and all through the episode, the single refrain of “You can’t kill Bobby” ran through my mind. Not in anger, not in warning, it wasn’t even directed at the show makers. It’s just that Bobby is always there. He has to be. That’s who he is, it’s what he does. Bobby is so dependable that I forget how dependable he is. He’s like oxygen, or gravity, or the ground that catches my every footfall. Bobby can’t die because Bobby has to be there. He has to. He just has to.
A fictional character isn’t supposed to mean this much, but he does.
This show means so much to me because of the characters. It does a fantastic job of drawing its characters and the relationships between them. That’s why his death hits me so hard. He was a real person, not a two dimensional sketch. And dammit, I already miss him.
I cried. Big heaving sobs. I never cry over TV! Even during Swan Song, which I loved, my eyes stayed dry (though my heart ached like crazy). The loss of Bobby is like losing someone for real. And while this hurts horribly, it’s also why I love the show.
It’s a fantastical story. Impossible, even ridiculous if I think about it without emotion. What keeps it real, grounded, interesting and me rabid for more, is the people. And people aren’t people if they remain immortal. What I’ve liked about Season 7 from the big picture standpoint, is the return to mortality for the characters. Sam’s shattered psyche, Dean’s broken leg, the loss of Castiel…suddenly death is real on Supernatural again. And THAT is scary. It’s terrifying, because I love these characters, as my current broken heart can attest.
There was a big part of me screaming at the boys to DO something! CALL someone, while Bobby lay in the hospital bed. I had to keep reminding myself that there wasn’t anyone they could call. They were helpless. They were as helpless as I would be. And when I saw them so vulnerable, so stripped, so human, it frightened me.
The loss of Bobby…loss isn’t a big enough word.
You can’t kill Bobby. You just can’t. I can’t be ok without Bobby there. He’s too big a piece to take away from me, from the boys.
No, I’m not directing that ‘you’ at the creators and writers. I’m directing that ‘you’ at the universe. Because the death of Bobby is bigger than what the writers vomit out in a script, his death is real because the world of Supernatural just got real again.
Bobby deserves his rest. He deserves his slice of heaven where his wife awaits him and his happiest hits loop for his pleasure. But I don’t want him to go and what makes it so much harder, impossible even, to graciously allow him to walk into eternity, is the knowledge that he would rather stay, fight and suffer for his boys, than accept that he’s done enough. He doesn’t want to stay to prove anything or to make a name for himself or even to save the day. He wants to stay for the exact reason that I want him to stay, so he can just BE THERE.
You can’t kill Bobby.
It feels like the ground isn’t catching my footfalls anymore. And it still surprises me. Every. Time.
I’ve heard grief described as stepping into chaos. I believe it, though I’m not there yet. I’ve still got my fingernails dug into Bobby being there. He will be there because he’s always been there. Right?