I looked over and walked out onto the large parking lot where all the old cars went, where the impala was. That's when I was startled by the sound of shattering glass. I looked over and saw Dean smashing the trunk lid of his car, the one he loved so much. I ran over to him.
"Dean! Dean! Calm down!" I shouted. He turned around and almost swung his tool at me just before I ducked my head. I could see in his eyes that he realized what he'd almost done.
"It's ok," I whispered; and he practically fell into my arms as I stroked his back comfortingly. The poor thing had been through so much, and though I could never hope to understand how heavy his loss was, I could at least try and help to heal him. He was actually sobbing now, choked by the words he wanted to get out. I knew he wouldn't want to let go any time soon, and honestly, neither did I. It was like I was his mother, and was coming to me for comfort. Someone had to fix this poor broken soul, and I was going to be the one to try.