Done

Another tag, this time to 7x09 so spoilers! ;) Dean's POV. Thanks for taking a look, I hope you will enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING!


His gaze meets his brother's for a split second before he faces the road again and feels the churning in his gut take roost in his throat… It's bad… this is bad… this is… this is bad…

He… he can't breathe… he spits and sputters and fights to keep the contents of his stomach where they belong…

His eyes leave the road to chance a look at the silent, unmoving figure in the back. He starts to ramble… can feel himself start to lose control as an overwhelming torrent of guilt slams into him. Bobby. Shot. Dead. He's… he's dead… his fault… all his fault…

His mind drifts, searches for a place to hide from the reality he is suddenly confronted with and is not willing to face. He screams out the older hunter's name, it crackles through his lips and the SUV veers slightly as he lets out a pitiful moan and beats the wheel with a tightened fist.

Damn it… not Bobby… please.

He… he can't see… the tears that blur his vision make it harder and harder to concentrate of whatever the hell he is supposed to do now. What… what is he supposed to do now? Bobby? What is he supposed to do now? How… how can he fix this?

His chest constricts, tighter and tighter until all he can think about it how to make it stop. His fist pounds into the steering wheel, the dashboard, the seats, the roof… and still the helplessness remains. The pain… the guilt… he has to try and reign it in before he snaps. For Bobby.

As they travel along the road he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the side window and his foggy brain figures yeah, that might just work. He lifts his right hand, turns and lets it fly into the window. Pain flutters and filters through his hand, his wrist, his arm….

"DEAN!"

He feels an iron grip on him, followed by a rough shake but he doesn't look towards his brother. Instead he rides the wave of agony until it starts to fizzle out, until it is reduced to a meaningless throb and the pain in his chest ramps up again. Shit. He retreats back into his head, tries to convince himself he is not really there… not in this stupid place… not…

It's quiet. Too damn quiet. The silence in the air where only moments ago there was chaos is deafening.

He's… it's… Bobby… Christ, how did… how did this happen? How… how could he let this happen? He… he should have waited, should have backed him up… should have made sure he was out… should have stayed to take on those evil sons of bitches… not Bobby… how could he let this happen?

Nonononono... too much… not this… please God, not this! It's… he can't… not... if Bobby… not Bobby…

He doesn't feel his hand leave the wheel, doesn't notice the sudden swerve of the vehicle, doesn't….

"DEAN!"

He snaps back to the moment and flinches at the roughness of his brother's hand on his arm, guiding his grip back to the wheel.

"DEAN! Snap the hell out of it! We can't help Bobby if you crash us into the ditch! Dean, do you hear me? You need to keep it together while I go check on him."

Right. Check on him… because he's got a damn bullet hole in his head… because of him… should have been him… should have…

"DEAN! Come on man, don't pack up and leave now, not now. I need you. Bobby needs you."

Right. Bobby needs him. Huh, that's not quite right Sam. Bobby needed him. Needed him to look out for him, to protect him, not to leave him facing that stupid son of a bitch by himself.

"Dean, please man, we have to get him some help. Please."

He doesn't… he can't speak, just dips his head as he floors the accelerator and Sam climbs in the back…

That's it. He is officially done.


The End. Thanks for stopping by...