The subject was wishes
The blonde waitress Dean had hooked up with at the open 24/7 diner had asked him what he wished for when he saw a shooting star. She'd shrugged his left shoulder and replied with, "Oh you know, the usual. A million dollars or more wishes." When she'd started to tell him about what she'd wished for, he'd distracted her with his mouth and hands. He didn't care about wishes, didn't believe in them.
Not anymore.
As a child he'd wished for his mom to come back, and then he'd wished for the return of the daddy who'd smiled with joy at seeing him. When he finally realized that that man had died the same night as his mother had, he wished for a family that didn't desert him. One that believed he was good enough to stay with. He thought he'd had that with Sammy, at least. After all, how could you leave the one person who was brother, protector and parent? The day Sam left for Stanford shattered that belief. Not good enough, never good enough, not wanted, left again.
Dean Winchester had learned at long time ago that wishes were futile. They were a waste of time and energy, along with "what-if", "what-might-have-been", "what-should-have-been", and "what-could-be". Those distracted you, made you hesitate and made you weak. In his life, there was "here and now" to deal with, and that was enough.
Especially for a man who'd lost faith in everything but himself, his weapons and his car.
Not anymore.
As a child he'd wished for his mom to come back, and then he'd wished for the return of the daddy who'd smiled with joy at seeing him. When he finally realized that that man had died the same night as his mother had, he wished for a family that didn't desert him. One that believed he was good enough to stay with. He thought he'd had that with Sammy, at least. After all, how could you leave the one person who was brother, protector and parent? The day Sam left for Stanford shattered that belief. Not good enough, never good enough, not wanted, left again.
Dean Winchester had learned at long time ago that wishes were futile. They were a waste of time and energy, along with "what-if", "what-might-have-been", "what-should-have-been", and "what-could-be". Those distracted you, made you hesitate and made you weak. In his life, there was "here and now" to deal with, and that was enough.
Especially for a man who'd lost faith in everything but himself, his weapons and his car.