Dean looked down at their hands, fingers laced together. He moved his hand, rubbing his thumb over her smaller hand. He had a look of deep thought upon his face and one of sadness.
"No one can lighten the burden I have," Dean finally admitted. "The burden I carry, I brought upon myself." But for good reason. And some of the burden he carried was placed upon him when he was four years old and his father placed his little brother in his arms and told him to get out of the house as fast as he would. He remember stand on the lawn, looking at the house and telling Sam he would take care of him. Since that day, he tried his best.
He looked up at her, "I'm not gonna place those burdens on you. You don't want them or deserve them." He reached up with his other hand and cupped her cheek, rubbing it softly with his thumb, "I think you take on too much as it is. And you really shouldn't. You should leave a little piece of yourself or you'll end up like me."