Warning: Language. And it's kind of depressing again. Another glimpse into Dean's mind. This takes place before Hunted, before Dean got to spill the beans on 'the secret'. He's still reeling from John's death and the weight he left his eldest to bare.

Disclaimer: I stole 'em. And now we're in hiding. Title and poem by Emily Dickinson.

Chapter Four: Pain Has an Element of Blank

Pain has an element of blank; it cannot recollect when it began, or if there were a day when it was not.

It has no future but itself, its infinite realms contain its past. enlightened to perceive new periods of pain.

So, you want to talk? Isn't that what your eyes allude to, Sam?

I can't even look at you without seeing those fucking puppy-dog eyes begging me to tell you what's wrong.

If I remember correctly, I did that all ready. You didn't like what I had to say.

"It's my fault he's gone… Dad's dead because of me… I was dead and I should'a stayed dead."

I know it hurts, but the truth always does.

So, if I talk now, I just want you to know, that the words are going to be just the same. Time isn't going to change them.

I go to bed telling myself that tomorrow is another day, because that's what Dad used to tell me.

"Go to bed, son. I promise things will seem better in the morning."

But, Sam, they don't.

Everything still hurts when I wake up.

I go to bed missing him and wake up just the same.

And tomorrow isn't gunna be different.

I'm trying.

I swear I'm trying.

But it's hard. Harder than anything and everything I've ever had to do before. And I know it was never Dad's intention to put all this weight on my shoulders, but he did and goddamn it, Sam… it's crushing me.

I'm tired. I'm so damn tired.

But I'm trying.

I'm trying for you, Sammy. Because you're the one who will hurt if I give up and I promised myself I'd never hurt you. Not if I could avoid it. Believe me when I tell you that as scared as I am of being alone, I'm just as scared of leaving you that way.

I promise I'm trying, Sam.

Just be patient with me.

You know something?

Dad never took us to baseball games when we were kids. We didn't watch the Super Bowl and I'd never even heard of Michael Jordan until I broke my collarbone that time in Tulsa and had to spend a few weeks on bed rest in a motel that only got ESPN.

But you want to know something else?

That stuff never bothered me.

It was the little things that got to me. Like the way we never fought about grades. It was always about the hunt.

One time I brought home a report card with three Ds. Dad barely even looked at it. For once, I just wanted the man to yell at me about something besides target practice or forgetting to salt the doorway.

I loved the man, but a symbol for a great parent he was not.

I've tried so hard to give you the normality you deserved. The normality I craved for the two of us.

But I came up short—oh so short—and I'm sorry, Sammy. Sorry for the both of us, because I would've loved to have been an uncle someday.

But this life is going to kill us, man. I just pray that God'll do me one favor and let me go first.

I'm not perfect.

Not even fucking close.

Ever since that incident in Tulsa, my collarbone hurts on bad days 'cause of the bad heal, and my depth perception is slightly off, especially in the left eye.

I'm clumsy as hell outside of the hunt.

I drink too much and my eating habits are questionable.

I haven't slept through the night since I was four and I'm damn selfish when it comes to keeping my family together.

I love you and Dad more than what's good for me.

And the things I'm willing to do to protect the two of you… it scares me sometimes.

I miss him, Sam. And I'm not alright.

I'm so fucking lost because his death left so many loose ends.

I don't know how to fix it this time (and isn't that my job? Isn't that supposed to be what I do?) I don't even know what's broken.

But somehow, someway, I'm going to get us through this. I promise I'll find a way.

Because that is what I do. That's my job.

So don't worry, alright? Don't.

It'll be okay.

How do I know?

Well, that's a silly question, Sammy. Because I'm your big brother and I know everything.

The End. (I'll love you forever if you review.)

(c) M.Kena

April, 2007