[ Dean had no intention of taking him to Plucky's. Not because he wasn't enough of an asshole, but because now wasn't the time to be an asshole, and besides- any excuse to get himself into the front seat of the Impala was an excuse he could get behind. Besides, Sammy kind of needed it right now and to a certain extent, Dean understood it. Maybe he didn't voice those facts, didn't put words to the way he felt about the past they'd come from, but he got the need behind what Sam was feeling.

He understood wanting to look back, wanting to see. Just like he understood his father wanting to wipe it all away and stare forward, because looking into their past meant splintering your attention, meant grieving over what no longer was. Dean didn't know how to be both worlds, but he understood what each one implied and his little brother - right now at least - came first.

Backing the car up out of the spot, looking over his shoulder, Dean mulled for a moment before he turned and struck out forward, hitting the road and not looking back. ]

Don't think I gotta tell you how hard it'd be for him to go back there. And yeah, I know, before you even fuckin' say it Sammy, I know it's not all about him. I know, okay. But he wants our eyes on the prize, not on-- I don't know, us trying to remember the smell of fresh laundry.