A/N: Please don't flame. : ) I have no excuse for this drabble other than I want to get this story completely finished and updated for season one. Because I have control issues like that and it will haunt me if I don't.
So, moral of the story? Leave me a nice message if you liked. Or even if you didn't like it. Tell me you read it. Thanks!
"Hey, Dean?" Sam whispered. Dean didn't look away from the road, but Sam took that little grunt as a "what?" "Why did your eyes bleed?" Sam asked. He saw a nerve in Dean's jaw jump. Sam looked at his older brother. "And don't say she's just more powerful out of the mirror, because that's a cop out and you know it." Sam said quickly. "What happened, Dean?" Dean sighed heavily and took a while to answer, but Sam was patient with him.
"Look Sam, I've been hunting a long time. Sometimes you can't save everyone." Dean whispered. "But I feel responsible for everyone."
"Dean…" Sam started. Dean shook his head angrily.
"No, Sam, this is just the way I feel okay? I know I shouldn't and I know I did all I could, but it's just the way it is." He looked at his brother. "No matter what you say, it can't change the way I feel."
"Do you listen to yourself?" Sam asked him curiously. Dean glared at him.
"Hey, I'm not the one killing myself with guilt, Sammy-boy." Dean snapped. Sam rolled his eyes.
"Oh, so that blood on your face isn't any indication?" Sam asked. Dean didn't answer. "I can't believe you sometimes, Dean. You went on this huge rant about how I shouldn't feel responsible for Jess's death… and yet you sit here blaming yourself for not being able to save every poor soul you stop to help!"
"You're right Sam. You should feel responsible for Jessica's death." Dean snapped. Sam pulled back and sat against the door. "Is that what you want to hear? That you murdered the first girl you fell in love with? Somehow, in some twisted way you put her up on that ceiling and lit her on fire." Dean shook his head. "Last time I checked, it took more than the two minutes you were home before I came rushing in to do something like that!" Sam sighed angrily and sunk back down into the bucket seat. "Oh, that's right." Dean said with fake happiness. "I don't know the whole story." He hit his head. "Whatever else there is, Sam, there is no way that you are even remotely responsible. I don't care what it is, you are not a killer, Sam. And I know if you could have done something to stop it from happening, you would have."
"Same to you."
"You don't know what you're talking about, Sam. I've made some stupid mistakes that got innocent people killed." He shrugged. "Spirits don't see gray, that's the only reason she came after you, okay? You got that? In anyone else's eyes, you're innocent. You didn't do anything wrong."
"You don't even know…"
"And neither do you."
The silence was thick, suffocating.
Sam rolled down the window to get some air.
"Roll it back up, I'm cold."
"You've got a jacket on, and it's stuffy in here."
"Cry me a god damn river. Roll the window back up!" Dean yelled. Sam grudgingly did so, worried about what would happen if Dean got any madder.
"Look, Dean… I'm…"
"Don't say you're sorry." Dean hissed. "Because I know as well as you do that you're not. Don't do it if you don't mean it."
"Fine." Sam muttered and sunk down in his seat.
Dean sighed and looked over at his brother. "Look, I didn't mean to get angry… I just… I hate that you're not telling me everything."
"Dean, I told you…"
"I know, I know. Some things you just have to keep to yourself. It still pisses me off." Dean admitted.
Sam laughed and looked out the window.
"Just promise me, if its bad… you'll tell me before it gets you hurt… or if something like this ever happens again."
"If it will protect you, I'll tell you."
It wasn't the answer Dean wanted, but he'd settle for it.
Besides, he'd settled for less all his life.
What's once more?