[Dean wonders if, somewhere, somehow, there's a universe where they actually get to live outside of hunting and saving people and dying and almost dying for each other over and over again; he wonders if that Sam and that Dean get to define themselves outside of their family tragedies, if they even have any family tragedies to work through. He hopes so; he hopes that there's a happy ending for the two of them out there somewhere, no matter how unlikely that reality is.

He lets out a long, low breath, rubbing his hand over the bottom half of his face.] Sam, how can I be pissed at you when I don't even know how the Devil got you to let him in the first place? Am I angry and hurt? Yeah, you know what, I am. And maybe if you explain, I'll get angry at you too.

[And maybe the Dean from this Sam's timeline is right to have left him, but Dean feels an odd clench in his stomach at the thought, no matter what it is that Sam's done. After everything, Dean can't imagine walking out on Sam; that's what their dad did, and fuck if he doesn't want to be following in John's damned footsteps anymore than he already has.

And then Sam explains that he's been drinking demon blood and using his powers, with Ruby, of all demons, and Dean feels all of his stomach drop through to his feet; his eyes widen and he feels as though part of himself as left his own body.]

I'm sorry, you what?

[He's trying to process this information; his thoughts and emotions feel like crossed livewires, sparking dangerously within him. He feels as though he might puke or scream; maybe both.]