He looked over at you in the passenger seat and caught you staring back at him, your lips slightly pursed and pressed together. “What?” he growled.
You shrugged. “No, nothing… Not a thing,” you replied, turning your eyes back to the road and night rushing past. “I’m sure you’re right,” you continued. “This has nothing to do with the demons. Clearly, it’s all your fault.”
He cast another tense glance in your direction.
“Because you’re the one who possessed and killed those people…” you trailed off.
He heaved a heavy sigh. “I should have gotten there sooner.” His jaw tensed.
“Dean,” you were brave enough to reach over and gently touch his arm. His eyes flitted to your hand. “You can’t do everything. We can’t save everyone. You need to stop internalizing all the bad things we see. You need to stop blaming yourself. You’re not the darkness… you’re the light.”
His lips fell partially open and he was too anxious to look at you again, but he couldn’t ignore the warmth and rush he felt as he thought of how your hand was resting on his arm, and the words he felt he didn’t deserve.