Most days it feels like the weight of the world is hanging around his neck. He wants to take it off-hurl it into the distance-but he can’t. It means too much-meant too much.
Some days it barely weighs anything. He wants to grab it, hold tight, make sure he hasn’t lost it. He doesn’t because it’s no substitute for the real thing and he’s already lost that.
These days it’s always under his shirt. He can’t look at it now that he’s training with Ruby. Can’t face that what he’s doing would kill Dean all over again.