This started out pretty bleak and hopeless feeling.

Then at the gas station this was actually funny:

Pulling a gun on a squeak toy is not a sign of PTSD. It's good reflexes, goddamn it.

And when he realizes it isn't a squeak toy at all and finds the kittens under their mother who tried to protect them:

These are the last two left. The survivors.

Something clicks in Dean's head, wedges itself into place. Three weeks of no, I couldn't and he's hit a solid wall of yes. Yes I can.

There is a little bit of hope.

Very nice job. Thank you for sharing.