The two young men were quiet and Baby was carrying a definite weight from the passenger side. Dean resisted asking what was wrong, knew that silence would drag it out of Sam eventually, whenever he finally decided he wanted to talk about it.
There was a small huff of breath and Dean's eyes slid covertly to his brother. A piece of Sam's bangs, long grown past his eyes, had fallen forward and it hung in front of his brother's sloped nose. "You know Dean, my whole life I've tried to do good. Tried to be good." He paused, simmering between self-pity and anger. "...and every time it's just blown up in my face."
Dean narrowed his eyes. "Sometimes you make bad choices."
He could feel his brother shut down at the judgment. He felt a small hint of satisfaction at Sam's hurt. After all the headache and heartache Sam had caused in the past few months...after starting the goddamned apocalypse, some small part of Dean just wanted to hurt him back.
Sam went quiet. Didn't counter with sometimes you make bad choices too. He just swallowed it.
Dean warred with himself for a moment.
"Look, that is just what happens to every good person, Sam. They do their best and shit just blows up in their face." He drove silently for a moment and then added. "Maybe that's why people choose to be bad."
He could feel Sam's look from across the car.
His brother's startled, unspoken agreement.
Working on a lot of stuff right now. Check back soon. Burning the Primrose Path is up now as well as a fic I co-wrote under Celine. Mariamo called Personal Demons.