Fault
Bobby hung the phone up slowly. He hadn't expected to hear Dean's voice on the other end, and he hated what he said. There was an untraceable pain racing through him and he didn't want to feel it. He went to the fridge and popped a beer open, taking a sip. His hand shook as he brought the bottle to his lips and he couldn't taste what went down. The liquid didn't even make it down his throat. It choked at him and he spit it back out as he leaned his hands to his knees, coughing and trying to breathe. But he couldn't.
He stood up again and threw the beer across the room not caring where it went, and barely hearing the shattering glass.
Pam hadn't deserved any of it. First her eyes and then...now there was nothing. His hand still shook as he ran it over his bearded chin.
He wasn't an idiot. He knew he couldn't save everyone. He also knew in the end, when it came down to what was what, those boys would win out every time. But he had never wanted the opposing factor to be Pamela.
Bobby backed up by his counter and slowly moved to sit on the floor against it. His head dipped to hide in his hand and he sat there, his shoulders silently shaking, waiting for the sense of it all to come to him.
Bobby Singer
Supernatural
237