[He couldn't stop the deeply hurt look that passed over his face. of course she doubted. You know, cursed to tell more of the truth than he wanted... and she had doubts still. He turned away from her.]
If I had any say in it, I'd be lying my ass off. I want you to be happy, and not have any of this to worry about. And none of this is fair. Me and Sam had this dumped on us, and was expected to just keep on trucking.
But I was... trying too keep you safe. I know it'll probably send me to the nuthouse in the end. I wanted to try and keep all of that from you. But it's fine. You know, There were [Stop talking now, Dean] so many nights that I wanted someone... no, I wanted you... to take care of me for a change. I'd give Sam the last bit of food, and deep down, even though I know it's frigging stupid, I half-wished you open the motel door and bring some damned pie or tomato-rice soup like you used to make me when I was ill, and your mom used to make you. I can't even bring myself to listen to a Beatles song anymore; Especially not "hey Jude", because it was your favourite and you'd hum it in place of a lullaby.
but it's fine. I guess... it's only natural that there's doubt. So long as you care, it's all okay.... not. [He can't help it. He needs to shut up; and shut that little selfish voice in his head up. He needs to leave. He starts making his way towards the door, almost visibly Sagging, and about ready to fall apart. which he wanted to do alone.]
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If I had any say in it, I'd be lying my ass off. I want you to be happy, and not have any of this to worry about. And none of this is fair. Me and Sam had this dumped on us, and was expected to just keep on trucking.
But I was... trying too keep you safe. I know it'll probably send me to the nuthouse in the end. I wanted to try and keep all of that from you. But it's fine. You know, There were [Stop talking now, Dean] so many nights that I wanted someone... no, I wanted you... to take care of me for a change. I'd give Sam the last bit of food, and deep down, even though I know it's frigging stupid, I half-wished you open the motel door and bring some damned pie or tomato-rice soup like you used to make me when I was ill, and your mom used to make you. I can't even bring myself to listen to a Beatles song anymore; Especially not "hey Jude", because it was your favourite and you'd hum it in place of a lullaby.
but it's fine. I guess... it's only natural that there's doubt. So long as you care, it's all okay.... not. [He can't help it. He needs to shut up; and shut that little selfish voice in his head up. He needs to leave. He starts making his way towards the door, almost visibly Sagging, and about ready to fall apart. which he wanted to do alone.]