Dean's eyes dropped the food in front of him. He could still remember as clear as day the way his father looked when he took that bullet for him, and he still hated it. He was supposed to have died that day, and he didn't. He'd been trying to make up for it ever since, but it wasn't quiet seeming to take. His life only kept getting harder and he kept having to live through it.

"You lost your Dad, too, Sam. I didn't blame you."

It was what he deserved for not dying when he was supposed to.