Always On My Mind

That's When Your Heartaches Begin

April 2015

Without knowing his destination, Dean kept on running, past houses and shops, not once stopping to catch his breath. The sun was still hidden behind the clouds but light slowly began to fill the sky. Almost blind in the sudden brightness, Dean ran through Lawrence, not fully realising where his feet had carried him until he looked up and found himself on the steps of Ellen and Bobby's house. Before he could think his actions through he raises his fist and knocked on the door. He knew that someone would hear him, Bobby barely slept these days and Ellen was always awake if Dean needed her. He decided that if no one answered that it was a sign that maybe he was supposed to be alone.

After a few moments of silence Dean turned on his heels, shoulders dropping in defeat. He thought that maybe he should go back home and torture himself with thoughts of Jimmy; all his darkest fears wrapped up with bittersweet memories and violent flashbacks.

"Dean?" A rough voice said, bringing him crashing back to reality.

Dean turned back around and saw Bobby standing in the door frame; the old man looked tired and he still had oil on his arms from a long day of working on cars. Back when he was a kid Dean had spent almost every day of his summer vacation at the Singer/Harvelle house playing with Jo and Bobby had taught him how to work on cars and fix an engine. As he grew older he started helping Bobby out at the garage where he worked and that's when his love of cars began.

The dull ache in his chest seemed to disappear when he looked into Bobby's soft, concerned eyes; breathing was becoming easier.

"Hey..." Dean replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he awkwardly shuffled his feet.

"Come on in boy, you're shaking."

Dean looked down and saw his hands trembling, he hadn't even noticed. He accepted the invitation, climbing the porch steps, passing Bobby and walking into the house. His body on autopilot, Dean made his way to the living room and threw himself into the armchair where he had always curled up and fallen asleep as a kid after long days working in the garage. Sometimes he had been sat on Ellen's lap as she wrapped her arms around him protectively, singing him to sleep or telling him stories about pirates and princes; a guardian and a  teacher. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on his hands, looking down at his raw, bruised feet. He couldn't feel anything.

As Bobby draped a blanket across his shaking shoulders Dean began to realise how cold he actually was.

"Thank you." Dean whispered through chattering teeth, pulling the blanket tighter around him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bobby asked, taking a seat on the beat up sofa opposite Dean.

Dean shook his head and tried to look anywhere but at Bobby. He knew that Bobby got the picture and honestly he wasn't looking for pity. After all, Jimmy was still alive...more or less.

The living room looked like it always had, reminding him of happier times. There were small changes, as the years had gone by the chunky television had been replaced by a flat screen and the shelf of videos had been replaced by DVDs. The walls were covered with more photos of Ellen, Bobby and Jo as the little family had grown, as well as pictures of Sam and Dean; of course, they were part of the family too.

Dean let his eyes roam over the frames that littered not only the walls but the mantelpiece and the window sills until they settled on an old photo of Jimmy;  it was from their college graduation. Dean felt the familiar ache fill his stomach and his heart sank when he realised he may never see Jimmy smile like that again. The urge to leave and keep on running resurfaced.