Merlin this was worse than he thought. Dean had expected them to yell at each other, for there to be some kind of back and forth, but this was somehow worse. At least then they could be bitterly angry and have an excuse to go spiral out of control and be justifiably miserable.

"I'm sorry," he managed, looking at Don Juan helplessly. It would feel wrong that there wasn't any sort of explanation; Dean knew that something had to give. "I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to do this." When it was good it was so good, but when they slipped, it was abysmal. The up and down, the back and forth, it was giving him whiplash and Dean just couldn't manage anymore. He couldn't come home from work every day wondering what he was going to find. Could fret the entire time he was travelling, distracted and worried what was happening when he was gone. He couldn't love Don Juan through this like he said he would. Dean had never failed anything so miserably in his entire life; he hadn't expected it to hurt this much.