During all the back roads traveled and through the thousand hypnotizing white lines, the roar of the engine lulls me into memories I don't want to recall.
Thoughts and images begin to consume me..
i'm alone
Dean learning to throw knives.
The huge loo-sided grin he would get when he believed I was proud.
what kind of father remembers these things???
The countless times Bobby has stitched my wounds while reminding me
'you almost didn't make it this time John'
Sam
A wave of frightening comfort washes over me thinking of Sam alone with Dean.
he's good for Dean, at least for now
Through all the sleepless nights and asphalt induced dreams, I realized I never think of you.
Despite myself and no matter how hard I try, the worst moments for me are when I realize I keep forgetting I've forgotten about you.
I'm sorry Mary.
