There's darkness all around, as he sat alone, back against the wall, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the ceiling, wishing it was a dream, wishing it weren't real, wishing she was here, clenching and unclenching his fist, if only he'd been a better man, if only he'd been half the man she needed him to be. If only he could be able... Able to show love like she needed him to.

Why the hell does he need to screw up everything good in his life, and it ain't like she hadn't given him more than one chance to become the man she always said she knew he is. 

His fingers gripping the neck of the bottle of jack, the gold liquor hitting his throat as he tried to wash down the feeling of failure, heartbreak, of misery, despair. It felt like there was this intense pressure in his chest, as he recalled the conversation that led to this moment, she stood there, tear stains on her cheeks "Dean .." she sounded broken, "why... Why do you always have to do this? Why do you always have to run towards danger?" His voice gruff "babe it's important, I'm saving people... I'm saving people" he repeated. 

Shaking her head "what about saving us? What about staying for once?" He walked closer towards her, "I have to do this, It's who I am darling..." In frustration she grunted, "you're so much more than this, more than the man your father said you are... Dean, listen to me, don't go..." 

He saw the desperation in her eyes, the pleading in her voice, as he stood there in front of her, she took his hands, held onto him, her voice cracking "please, don't do this .." his thumb brushed over her knuckles, determination in his voice "I have to... This is just something I have to do." She let go of his hands, fear in her tone, "you're going to get yourself killed Dean and for what, keeping your father happy?" 

He huffed "you wouldn't understand, I promised him..." She didn't let him finish that sentence, instead she raised her voice "fine!" She looked at him a pained expression expression "I'm done trying, I can't anymore Dean" 

Confusion evident as he looked at her, "w-what do you mean by that?" She hissed back "I'm done staying here, hoping you'd come home safely, unharmed... I can't do that anymore" his jaw clenched "what? You knew who I was, I am when we started out"

She shook her head "Dean you don't get it do you, You come home every time, torn to pieces, about what you had to do, you've become a shell of the man I fell in love with," his frustration evident "that's not true" 

The last thing she said as she left that day was "you know it's true" and he hasn't seen her since.

His hand brushed through his hair, he knew it was true, he wasn't the same man he was before, he truly has become a shadow of who he once was, but he couldn't tell her she was right ... Why didn't he beg her to stay? Why did he let her walk out that day! Every time he closes his eyes it's like he can't breathe, seeing her pained expression, the tears in her eyes, the fear in her voice, he suddenly throws the bottle against the wall, screaming in frustration, in anger. Watching as the shards of glass shatter against the wall, tears in the corners of his emerald eyes, a hoarse, desperate whisper falling from his plump lips, "I should've said the words you wanted to here baby, I should've been better, but now instead I'm torn to pieces by the memory of you, of what we could've been... Wishing like hell I stayed, wishing I were half the man you'd wanted me to be" he let out a defeated grunt, knowing the only place he'll ever see you again are the memories replaying over and over in his mind, because even if it is tearing him to pieces, he knows your

 not coming back.