Jo leaned forward to pick up her own bottle but instead of taking a drink, busied her hands with picking at the label. A habit she fell into when her mind raced in far too many directions at once.
She glanced at Dean beside her. The heaviness in his eyes, the lines that hadn't been there when she'd saw him last. Which was, also today. The obvious weight of the years between where she was and he was. And she knew this life was hard. She'd known it well and for far longer than most had given her credit for.
She also knew Dean. As much as anyone really knew Dean. She knew how much guilt he walked around with on a good day.
"You're not - " she paused, let out a slow breath. "What happened to me isn't your fault, you know that right?" Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't. She needed to say it regardless.