They all had blonde hair. You think about this in the dead of the night, when Sam is sleeping soundly (or just pretending to…) in the bed across the tiny motel room. Blonde hair and a spitfire attitude. Miles out of your league, your brothers, your fathers.
You think about your mother. How beautiful she was, and the thoughts go down along with the swallow of whiskey. You think about your father, and how they were set up by cupid of all things and the thoughts make the burn of alcohol all the worse. Still you think of her beauty. Classic really, she had a sweetness that was perfect, because it perfectly hid her attitude. You think about the men before your father, the poor chums with the misfortune to talk to her the wrong way. You wonder where all of the ended up. If they knew how she had died. I f they had cared.
Your father had cared, and that was the very reason you were sitting in this motel, why you had always been sitting in motels, all your life. You wonder about the what ifs. What if it had never happened, none of it. The love, the death, the hunting. You shudder away at the thought and pour yourself another drink.
You think about Jess, the girl you never really knew, but did because she was so much like your own mother. You saw her and you knew, you just knew that she was just like your mother. The beauty, the blonde hair, the attitude that shamed any boy who tried to cross her. You wished that you had realized they would share the same fate.
And Jo, beautiful Jo, who knew so much and so little about you and hunting and life. But maybe that wasn't quite true. She knew a lot about you, and a lot about life. Well, she knew a lot about suffering. But after all this time, life and suffering have become one and the same to you. You think about how she died, so different and yet the same as your mother, as Jess. The bottle of whiskey beside you is empty, and you haven't even realized it. Hours have passed, and still, the absence of heavy breathing lets you know that your brother is not asleep either.
His voice echoes out of the dark, "Dean…"
"They all had blonde hair…" you echo as the darkness pulls you under.
They all had blonde, you think as the darkness consumes you, and if Ellen had known about your mother, about Jess, she would have taken Jo and ran the moment she saw you.