Dean looks at the pyre again. "I dunno, Sokka. I only know what'd make me feel better. I don't know anythin' about how it is with you."

He rubs his nose hard, as if he's trying to push it back into his forehead, searching for the right words. They don't come, and he shrugs helplessly and takes another drag on his cigarette.

"Drivin' works f'me. Takes me back to myself, y'know? Back to who I am."