It's funny, this thing called life. One minute you feel on top of the world, and the next.. Well, the next can feel like hell. I don't think I need to explain any more, you've experienced it. I'd left my double life behind. Lisa and Ben are no more, and damn if I don't regret walking out that door.

Cas had erased her memory; Ben's too, but that didn't stop me from taking them home once they were able. It was the least I could do; after all, as far as the two are concerned I hit their car with my own. No matter how I spin it, I was the reason they ended up in the hospital. I put them there, and no amount of apologies or forgiveness can make that guilt go away. I watched as they walked to their front door, turning around with a grateful wave before disappearing inside. I should have chased after them, told them the truth.. Or better yet, have Cas restore their memories. Could he even do that? Point is, I should have never let them go. But as much as it gnaws at me day in and day out, I know it's for the best. Isn't it?

The slam of a door pulls me from my thoughts, and my gaze lifts upward to spot Sam walking in, two grease-stained brown paper bags grasped firmly in his hands. He's concerned, it's written all over his face. My hand lifts to signal that I don't want to talk about a damn thing. "Don't." I motion to the bag in his hands. "Give me the food."

"Y'know, Dea—"

"I said, don't, Sam."

I can't even look him in the eye as he hands me a bag. Hell, who can I look in the eye anymore? Every day the guilt piles up a little more and a little more and Sam notices. Fuck, he notices everything these days. The silence in the room as Sam and I eat is deafening, and it leads me back to earlier thoughts; Lisa's smiling face, Ben's baseball games. These thoughts will be the end of me if I keep putting off what I want to do. I just need to get away.. Need to get away from Sam.