He sees Sam's lip tremble and hears him when he says, "I miss him, man," but can't think of anything to say back. What was he supposed to say? That he missed dad, too? Hell, Sam already knew he did. So, was he supposed to tell him how there wasn't enough whiskey in the world to drown the sorrow burning a hole in his gut? Or to dull the guilt and anger simmering within all the other stink inside his head? He should know there wasn't. Not that Dean hadn't been doing his best to find the oblivion supposedly lurking at the bottom of every bottle of scotch, gin or whiskey he could get his hands on.
"I feel guilty as hell for all the things I said to dad right before the end. And I'm not all right, Dean. Not at all." He watches the play of emotions on Sam's face and feels like an even bigger dick than he already did. "But neither are you. That much I do know. You aren't okay, Dean. Not by a long shot."
Sam fell silent after that. Dean knew his brother was waiting for him to say something; anything. What could he tell him, though? That he was right? That he wasn't okay? Hell, they both knew he wasn't. Finally, after several moments passed, Sam sighed and turned away.
"Yeah, guess I'll just let you get back to work."
Dean watches Sam walk back towards Bobby's house, knowing he should go after him, but not able to bring himself to do it. His body trembles from the emotions tumbling around inside him. As he stands there, quietly warring with himself about what he should do, he realized there wasn't a place that didn't hurt. He was one solid and never-ending wall of pain. Even the tips of his hair throbbed. He felt... too much. Any second he expected his mind or body to explode from the pressure building up inside him.
He turned and grabs up a crowbar from where he dropped it earlier. He grips it tight, feeling all his rage sliding down into the fingers wrapped around that cold metal. It erupts from him in one swing, sending glass spraying everywhere. Feeling alive for the first time in days, he takes his fury out on the only thing of dad's he still has. Over and over, he slams that crowbar down upon the dusty and dented trunk of his Baby. When he's left empty he tosses it to the ground and stares at the damage he's caused to the only thing, besides Sam and Bobby, of course, that matters to him.
He can fix her, though. With the right tools and the necessary parts, he can set Baby to right. Harder to repair was the damage to him and Sammy.
There simply weren't enough tools or parts to fix them.
A/N: Hi, all! Hope life has been treating you well!
This is tagged to episode 2x02.