softly; because we are screaming
s12e14: The Raid. Episode Coda.
Usually, with shit like this happening, he'd want to move. Stress clean, buy groceries, go for a drive. Instead, he sits, a lead weight in his stomach keeping him in place. Guilt, but not. There's an edge of sadness to it that is making his throat hurt, that has him try and find comfort in his room, his one and only safe space. Disappointment, then. But worse.
He's disappointed with himself.
Dean's been trying not to feel that way. Really, fuck, all the way back home he's been trying so hard—he had to forgive Ma-his mom, she was right and he was. Was not. He shouldn't feel disappointed with himself that he'd apologized. She's their mom and that's more important than how Dean's stupid fragile feelings were hurt. Except, every time he repeats that to himself the lead weight gets heavier.
He'd tried, all through dinner. Fuck, did he try. They're a family and families eat together. But the food just didn't wanna go down. As if there were still words locked in his throat, words of hurt and accusation, and they were in the way. The more he tried to get past them, the harder it got to talk. Like his insides were torn between heaving it all up and keeping everything inside. He'd played it off as just being tired, and Sam and their mom had shared that look. Like they were bonding over their mutual exasperation over Dean's juvenile avoidance strategies. Plotting behind his back over how they're gonna work to make Dean more civilized, make him see reason.
Like planning to take out entire species is fucking civilized behavior.
And now he's being unfair. But still. Or, hell, maybe Dean's just plain wrong about this and they're right. Somehow. At least that'd fit the pattern.
Dean puts his face in his hands. Rubs his temples, swallows his spit. His throat feels stuffed.
There's light on in his room and his door is closed and the sheets he's sitting on are fresh and soft. Sometimes, concentrating on these things helps a bit. Dean focuses on breathing slow and into his stomach. He kind of wishes Cas were here. Talking doesn't help shit when you're not heard.
