"M-May tenth?" I ask. Maybe I heard the date wrong.

Dean clears his throat before continuing, assuring me that I did in fact hear him correctly. "Yes, the day that you're parents died." I gasp and want to ask how he knew the date, but he answers my thoughts before I get the chance to ask. "I know this because, this is the day that my father was taken to prison."

I feel my hazel irises grow at his haunting words. Please don't let it be what I think he is trying to say.

It can't be.

I grab the picture out of Dean's hands and glance at him as if to say continue, before bringing my eyes back to the picture. My parent's smiling faces. Oh, how I yearn to see that again, to hear my dad's goofy chuckle that seemed to make everyone else laugh.

"My father was cheating on my mother, as you know, and it was happening for a while. When my mom found out about his indiscretions, she called him and told him that she was filing for divorce. My dad was drinking at a local bar, and I guess he decided to have a change of heart and wanted to be with us, his family, so he made the stupid decision to drive his truck home to tell my mom he was sorry. Only, he didn't make it home." Dean's voice went extremely low at his words.

I grip the side of the picture frame tighter, too tight and the glass cracks a little. "Say it, Dean." I scowl, and bring my gaze to his. His gaze is longing and shows sympathy, whereas I am sure mine is full of anger.

I watch as Dean runs his hands through his hair and brings them to his knees, his eyes filling with tears. I need to hear him say it.

Just fucking say it.

"My father got into a head on collision with a smaller car. The people that were in the vehicle died on impact while my father was taken to prison with only a small laceration on his head and a soon to be hangover." Dean looks back into my eyes, those electric blue eyes staring at me with fear laced in them.

"My father, Michael Connors, is the reason why Paul and Elaine Montgomery died on May 10th."

I suck in a sharp breath as the names leave his lips. My heart stopped beating and I feel the picture slip from my fingers, crashing onto my floor, the small crack I made expanding across the entire picture.

I bring my index finger and thumb to my necklace and trace over the engraved names. Paul and Elaine. His father, Dean's father is the man who ruined my life. How did I not realize this sooner? Oh, that's right, because my dumb ass didn't want to know the name of the person who killed them. I let out a small breath and it hitches in my throat, my hands begin to shake as I continue tracing over my parents' names. Suddenly, my mind begins to reel.

Michael Connors, the man who murdered my parents.

I was in his cabin.

I was in his home.

I was in love with his son.

I lost my virginity to his son, and gave my heart to him completely.

Because of him, I lost my parents, my life, and my love for softball. Until Dean, that is. He got me to play again and taught me how to love life again. He brought me out of that numb wrecking, sitting by and watching my life pass by me, phase.

I look at Dean and I can barely see him through the blurriness of my tear filled eyes, but I can hear him sobbing and muttering that he loves me. I wipe away at my tears to get a clearer vision of him and all I see are those electric blue eyes and it takes me back to the day I picked up that picture of his dad at the cabin. In that picture, I seen what Michael Connors looked like, and how my Dean was not only named after him, but he had those exact same eyes.

I am on my feet in a matter of seconds, pacing the room while Dean sits, watching me pace, his hands folded against his mouth as he uses his elbows to lean on his knees.

"Say something, please." He begs.

Thing is, what do I say? I am full of anger and questions. I am worried if I open my mouth, something hurtful may come out, instead I choose to ask the questions.

"Why are you just now telling me this, Dean? How could you let us go as far as we have without telling me the truth?" I shout.

"I...just recently found out myself that it was your parents, Scar. I promise I had no clue it was them. My mother never filled me in on the details, only that people were kill-died in the accident."

I stop pacing, my palms are sore from digging my fingernails into them. "Why did you lie? You deliberately told everyone your dad left for another woman."

"I know." He exhales and rubs his hands over his face. "My mother made me, for her diner's sake. If word got around about my father, the diner would suffer. She already had to jump through hoops to keep it out of the local papers." He chokes as another tear falls from the brim of his eyes.

I look away from them. I can't look at his eyes now because all I see is his dad. "You could have told me, Dean." I say softly and lean against my wall, hands folded behind my back. "How does Phoebe come into all of this? Does she know?" I ask and he nods slowly. "How?"

"Her mother was my dad's attorney. She had some crazy vendetta against you and me for dating that she went out of her way to find some way to get revenge on you and she found it within her mom's paperwork. She threatened to tell you and to expose this news in public, I couldn't let her do that so I agreed to her terms. By 'dating' her and leaving you, but I couldn't do that either, Scar. I couldn't let you go." He sobs.

I put my hand out, hoping that he will stop talking and he does. His words are replaced by his sniffling and my rattling heart. I rub my temples and try to take deep breaths, attempting to rid of the constant thoughts that are running through my mind, but I can't help it.

What kind of future can we have? It isn't like I could every marry him or have kids together one day. I know I am only eighteen, but I would be lying if I said my crazy love-induced self didn't at least think of the possibilities, no matter how far ahead in the future they may be. Been.

I can't have that with him now, not after knowing who his father truly is. How could I bare a child with his last name, the name of my parents' murderer? And I know I certainly couldn't live with having that last name as my own. Not now.

"Scar, answer me please." Dean asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

I didn't realize he was talking to me. "What?"

"W-where do we go from here? I don't want to lose you." He mutters.

I shake my head frantically, not sure of what to say, but knowing full well I don't want to cry in front of him anymore. I lean my head back and wipe the corners of my eyes, letting out a frustrated breath.

"I need time Dean, we can't be together right now. Maybe you should have just stayed with Phoebe." I say before I can stop myself. Why would I say that? I don't want to see him with her.

Dean stands and walks towards me. "Don't say that. I want to be with you, I love you, Scar. I...I want to go to college with you, be a part of your future."

I want the same things with you.

I love you too, Dean.

That is what I wish I would have said, instead I say, "Like my parent's, we have no future. Not right now at least. I can't be with you. Leave, please." I choke out.

The words burn my tongue from regret of saying them. I don't mean it, not really. I am just hurt and it's getting the best of me right now.

Dean shakes his head and reaches his hand out to stroke my cheek and I turn away quickly, hiding my tears from him and also ridding the image of his heartbroken self in front of me.

"Leave!" I shout.

I hear Dean behind me, gasp and then breathe ruggedly as he is motionless. Moments later my door opens and Seth peeks in. "Scar, what is going on in here? I heard shouting."

I wave my hand off, dismissing Seth but it doesn't work. "I think you should go, Dean."

I don't look back at him as I hear Dean drag his feet out of my bedroom. When I hear the door click closed, I lay back down in bed and cover my face with my pillow, screaming and crying into it as I release all the emotions I am feeling. Sadness. Anger. Heartbreak. The numbness begins to return, the same numbness I felt after losing my parents. The feeling of losing someone you love, is the worst. Even more so, when you lose them while they are still alive.

I sit up and pick up the picture of my family to look at it, making sure to not cut my finger on the glass, as my bedroom door opens once again. "I am coming in." Seth says softly and I nod my head, not that he even asked.

Seth sits beside me and puts an arm over me, pulling me closer to him and I can't contain the water works coming from my eyes. "Seth, it was Dean's dad that caused the accident." I mutter and feel Seth freeze at my words.

"I know." He exhales. I look into his eyes for something more, but all I see is guilt. For what, for not telling me? He continues, "I found out the day I met his mom in the diner, it all clicked. I knew the name, but I thought it was just a coincidence until the minute I saw her."

"Do you think mom and dad would ever forgive me if they knew I was in love with their murderer's son? Because I don't think I can."

"Yes." Seth answers quickly. "They would see how great of a catch Dean is and what he has done for this family. Scar, he was able to bring you back, the happy, bad ass ball player back into our lives. I thought I lost you for good until he came around. You need to learn to forgive yourself too though, it wasn't your fault and you know it. Michael Connors is who made the bad decision that cost our parent's their lives, but that doesn't make it Dean's fault."

Seth rubs my arm and holds onto me a little tighter as he lets out a big breath. "I think mom and dad would want you to forgive Michael's mistake, to let all this anger go and move on. I am not saying forget, because God knows they can't be forgotten, but it's time to move on and be happy, Scar. Chase after the dreams you had, and don't be afraid to love someone with all you have, no matter who it is."

With that, Seth kisses the top of my head and leaves my bedroom to tend to Valerie, who calls out for him.

Forgive Michael, how? I know, deep inside, that Seth is right. He is absolutely right about what our parent's would think because that is who they were.

But me, all I can think is, people keep telling me life moves on, but to me, that is the saddest part.