Alone
He couldn't take it anymore. It was one thing for your brother to accidentally mess up. It was a whole other thing for them to DELIBERATELY mess up.
Dean knew he should get over Sam letting that Vampire turn him, but for the life of him, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
Especially after the bomb shells, (shells plural!), Sam dropped on him a few days ago:
"...I don't even really care about you. Except that I need your help..."
"….I've killed innocent people in the line of duty, but I'm pretty sure it's not something the old me could've done. Maybe I should feel guilty, but I don't."
Dean sat on the edge of the motel bed with his head in his hands, replaying Sam's speech over and over in his mind. First, he lets Dean get bitten. Then, he tells him he doesn't even care about him.
"Well," Dean mused, "I know someone who's not getting a Christmas card this year."
He tried to make a joke out of it all. However, no matter how many jokes he made, he never really laughed. Yet, he still tried and always did when something bad or scary was happening and he had no control over it. Luckily for Dean, Sam having no soul was both bad and scary.
Hooray.
If there was one silver lining to what Sam said, he guessed it was the whole, "Except I need you" thing. But, the more Dean thought about it, the more he felt used. Not in the good way, mind you. He compared it to what he used to think once he slipped out of a girls place after sleeping with them;
Dean looked at…uh…shit…what was her name? Eh, doesn't matter. Dean looked at, the girl, who was still asleep. Great time to get on out of here, Dean thought, while she's still asleep and can't ask questions. Nothing worse than trying to escape from a girls place and they start asking questions. Once Dean got his boots and coat on he headed for the door. He opened it slowly and slipped out. Before he shut it, he took one last look at…gah, he guessed her name was Judy? He took one last look at maybe Judy and whispered, "Thanks for the lay. I don't really care for you except I needed your, uh, help." Feeling satisfied that he made some closure (for his own sake) he shut the door and jogged down the hallway, heading back to the motel to tell Sam ALL about his night, much to Sam's chagrin.
Eww, the shoe didn't feel so good on the other foot. Dean shook the memory out of his head.
Then he closed his eyes and sighed.
He just wanted the old Sammy back. The nerd that was never without his trusty laptop. The dork who got tongue tied when a pretty girl was flirting with him. The Sammy that tried to one up him when a prank war would break out. The Sam that had his back.
The Sammy that didn't ago around acting like Robo Cop or killing innocent people, and NOT feeling guilty about it.
Sure, sometimes Dean would tell Sam to stop acting like a sissy and man up.
"…People get caught in the crossfire Sammy, it just happens." He remembered telling him once after they were too late trying to save a teenager from a werewolf. Sam nodded his head that he understood but went right back to being silent and brooding.
Dean, again, shook the memory away. He preferred the silent brooding Sam to no soul Sam. At least when Sam was gloomy he showed emotion and seemed…
Human.
"If I could just get my Sammy back, I promise not to bust his balls the next time he wants to brood," Dean said quietly to the ceiling.
He heard nothing in response, not that he was expecting to. What he wanted right now was just someone to talk to.
There was no way he was going to talk to Sam about anything but the next case/hunt.
Bobby wasn't the chatty type, at least not lately. He wanted Sam to get his soul back just as much as Dean did, and had been spending his time trying to find another way to get it. Bobby would never know just how much Dean appreciated that.
Lisa. Lisa had let it been known how she felt. Dean decided he had enough on his plate right now, and skipped over her in his current thought process.
The only other person he could talk to was Cas. But Cas had been scarce these past few weeks, not only trying to help Sam too but he also had his own problems.
Dean sighed again as he got up and headed to the mini fridge. He pulled out a beer and took a drink. He took a glance around the empty motel room.
For the first time in a long time Dean felt, alone.
Really alone.