Was It All a Lie?

Chapter 13

I opened the door to his room. He was sitting on the bed with a blank expression on his face. "You wanted to talk?" I hoped he would actually talk.

"Yeah. Do you have anything to say first or can I just start?" He asked. His emotions were really hard to judge. He still seemed kind of mad, but he also seemed calm, and I just couldn't make anything out of it.

~Dean's POV~

"I just want to say I'm sorry again. I shouldn't have said that about you and I didn't mean it the way it came across. I'm just worried about you taking everything so seriously. I know that you showing emotion has been something you've finally gotten used to. I know you had trouble showing that for years, and when I finally got you to show it, you were a better person. I just don't want the emotions to eat away at you and I don't want you to drown yourself in alcohol. I just don't want you getting hurt. You look out for me a lot, and now I'm looking out for you and you're rejecting it." She explained, clearly trying to keep ahold of her emotions.

"Ok. It's my turn. I hate that you're always treating me like I'm the fragile one, like you and Sam are so strong, yet I'm the weak one. I-" She cut me off

"Dean, you know I don't think that. I'm the weak one. You should be able to tell that. Did you forget how many times I've cried on you just the past couple years alone?" She snapped. I just continued, ignoring her comment.

"I totally get what you're saying about me feeling guilty and I'm not denying it's true. I just don't like the way you're going about telling me about it. I know you like that I'm showing emotion but you don't need to act like I'm always overwhelmed with them. Yes, dad is the reason I am the horrible mess I am. Everything was my fault in his eyes. Half the time, he wasn't wrong. I screwed up a lot when I was a kid taking care of Sammy, and now the things I screw up are less frequent, but way worse. I'm just getting tired of showing emotion because you guys seem to think that's all there is anymore." I took a pause that apparently seemed long enough for her to start talking.

"Dean, I understand why you're mad, but why didn't you say anything? You could have told me this a long time ago and I could have backed off. Your dad may be the reason you feel guilty a lot, but you have never been a horrible mess. You aren't a horrible mess now. I know I've been making you feel bad and that was never my intention. Please tell me you know that." She begged.

"I know it wasn't your intention. I'm just explaining how I feel about what's going on. I'm trying to realize that not everything is my fault. You can tell me it's not my fault and take away the beer if it's what you feel you need to do, just don't keep attacking me on it and trying to convince me it's not my fault. It's not gonna help anything." I stated.

"I just have one question. You said you're getting tired of showing emotion. Does that mean you're gonna put the walls back up and shut us out?" She had such fear and concern in her eyes, and her voice sounded almost broken. I was hurting her again.

"No. I'm not shutting you out, I just want you to change how you talk to me. The way you talk to me now about stuff is annoying and it makes things harder." She started to get tears in the corners of her eyes. "Why are you so scared?"

"Putting and keeping the walls up was hurting you so much. Do you really think I'm not gonna be afraid of you doing something that will hurt you?" She asked, hurt by my question.

"I know you care about me and don't want me to get hurt, just try to back off a tad. I'm ok. If I'm not, I'll tell you. Just try to change the way you talk to me. I'm not gonna push you guys away." I explained. She still looked upset.

"I'm gonna try, ok? I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry I've been making things harder for you. I didn't know it was bothering you. I'm sorry." Her voice was beginning to shake as she apologized. She started to walk out the door.

"Wait." I stopped her. "Why are you walking out?"

"You've been nothing but mad all day. You sound mad even now. I'm sorry and you just act like my apology means nothing. I worry about you and hate that I made things hard for you, yet you're mad at me. I just care."

"Miranda, calm down. I'm not mad at you. You're sorry and you don't even have a reason to be. I didn't tell you how I felt until now. It's ok. I'm really not mad. I appreciate your concern for me. It actually means a lot. I know you just care. Let's just move on ok?" I replied as consolingly as I could. I really wasn't mad. I should have told her sooner, but I didn't. She nodded in response and she left to go back to Sam.