The question catches for a second, makes Sam hesitate as he heads back for the main room, stopping at the hall closet where he keeps a few extra sacks of rock salt.
"I'd say you know Dean as well as I do by now," he says, though he know it isn't true. Dean may not be exactly the same as Sam remembers, he may be broken in a way Sam never could've imagined, but he's still Dean. He's still Sam's brother. And there are still some things Sam knows no one else could ever touch, not even angels and mysterious, tropical islands. "Did it feel like him?"
Honestly, Sam doesn't want to entertain the possibility that it could just be Dean, that he's finally shattered into something unrecognizable. If it's demon possession, Sam knows what to do.
If it isn't...
Well.
He knows what to do there, too. But it's even more complicated.
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"I'd say you know Dean as well as I do by now," he says, though he know it isn't true. Dean may not be exactly the same as Sam remembers, he may be broken in a way Sam never could've imagined, but he's still Dean. He's still Sam's brother. And there are still some things Sam knows no one else could ever touch, not even angels and mysterious, tropical islands. "Did it feel like him?"
Honestly, Sam doesn't want to entertain the possibility that it could just be Dean, that he's finally shattered into something unrecognizable. If it's demon possession, Sam knows what to do.
If it isn't...
Well.
He knows what to do there, too. But it's even more complicated.