There are no words (to be spoken of this)
Dean's hands felt numb as he stared at the words. The piece of paper crinkled in his grip, his knuckles white. He knew he shouldn't have read it, but he hadn't been able to avert his eyes. He knew he shouldn't have read it, but it was too late now, far too late. He stared at the words immortalized in black pen on whit...