AN: Happy really really belated birthday to Helen Bache. I am so sorry that this is so late but life has been crazy for me at the moment and I am very stressed out and I am so sorry. *cries* I hope you accept my apology and enjoy this hopefully. This refers to season 4 a bit, and the word was fervor (commitment). Hurt Dean like asked.
COULDN'T CARE LESS
The fervor was gone.
He couldn't care less that the world was going to end, or that Sam had picked a demon over him.
He couldn't care less that his dad had treated him like a soldier his whole life and he couldn't care less that he was going to be used as exactly that. A soldier to fight the upcoming war – he was on God's side.
He couldn't care less that he was bleeding in the middle of nowhere on the floor of some dingy house that smelled like feet and old people.
He didn't want to care about the blood seeping from his own flesh, his life force, slowly leaving his body. He didn't even give a shit that he had yelled until his voice was hoarse and red, yet still Castiel had deserted him to die.
He couldn't care less...and to him, it seemed that no one cared either.
There was one person though...the door flung open and someone scooped Dean up and placed him carefully in the back seat. There was one person that cared.
That person was Bobby.
AN: I am so sorry for the lateness. Many belated wished to you and I hope that this was okay. Scare4irony.