Next thing we see is Dean playing with the gold loot at Bobby’s junkyard. So, I assume that they rescued the virgins and returned them home. Dean is a bit giddy over the gold, winding a watch and telling Sam to ask him what time it is.
Sam: “Why don’t you cut to the chase and just roll in it?”
Dean: “I rarely have wealth.”
Sam’s grin kinda slides off his face and he sits down slowly.
Sam: “Dean…I am so sorry. I can’t even begin to say.”
Dean looks up, his face carefully blank, but his eyes are bleeding emotion. “For what?”
Sam: “You know what.”
And he does. It settles in on his face, around his eyes, in the downturn of his mouth. He looks down because meeting Sam’s eyes is too much right now. He asks very softly who told him and Sam says it was Cas.
Dean: “Cas. Freakin’ child.”
I wonder how much Cas really told Sam. From Sam’s questions in this part it seems like it wasn’t everything, but enough for Sam to know that his actions hurt people he loved. And telling him about it—telling this Sam, our Sam—is going to be a different form of Hell for Dean. It will almost be like recounting a case of abuse to a third party. Because our Sam has no memory of it. But it’s never going to leave Dean’s mind.
Sam says that he needs to know. All of it.
Dean: “Death didn’t just shove your soul in; he put a wall between you and what you don’t remember and trust me when I say that the things you don’t know can kill you. That’s not a joke.”
He says it with such conviction there is no doubting him. And Sam knows this; Dean was there. Dean knows how horrendous Hell is. And Sam was there for over three times as long. Dean’s true fear of Sam remembering that…it rolls off of him in sickening waves.
Sam: “I feel like I got slipped the worst Mickey of all time and I woke up to find out that I burned the whole city down.”
Dean: “It wasn’t you.”
Sam: “You can say it wasn’t me, but I’m the one with the Zippo in my pocket. So, I’m not sure it’s that cut and dry. I appreciate you trying to protect me. But I gotta fix what I gotta fix.”
I loved that speech, that whole metaphor, all of it. I loved that Sam owned what he’d done—even if he wasn’t clear on all of it. He saw it on the face of his brother and his friend. He saw the scars they bore because of something he’d done. He couldn’t just let his brother protect him again and stand quietly by as they worked to live with all of that.
As he’s listening, though, Dean’s eyes hold a heartbreaking expression of helplessness. The look of someone forced to watch, hands tied, body restrained, as their loved one suffers. Hurting right along with them. He so does not want to do this. He doesn’t want to tell Sam that it was Sam who made him break his promise, made him leave Lisa and Ben. That Sam allowed him to be turned into a vampire. That Sam has killed innocent people. He doesn’t want his brother to have to live with that knowledge—especially because this Sam had no control over it.
Not only that, but if he remembers what he did as Robo-Sam, it’s not a big leap to remembering the Cage. And then what happens? It’s killing Dean just thinking about it.
Dean: “You don’t know how dangerous that could be.”
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