Dean looks away for a split second, willing himself to not fuck this up further. Shit like this is why he wants Sam to take the back seat, why he wants to shove him back and keep him from getting too into things. He's just a kid, here, so it's even more valid but just in general, Christ.

"It wasn't you." Maybe if he says it enough, Sam'll start to get it. Dean glances down, pinches the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache. "D'you get that? It was some assholes upstairs and downstairs and you - it's not you. It's not, Sammy."