{ gamingland: Bioshock Infinite - Robert Lutece Sam Winchester }
“You’re a fatalist.” He says in a harsh tone, half expecting something more than a blank expression to show on his brother’s face -- unfortunately, that’s exactly what he gets. They’ve been known for being strange men, and he knows that. They are strange men.
But sometimes, in times like this when Dean will bend his own rules and jump into Sam’s plans with no more than an unamused smile, the younger Winchester allows himself to hope for something more--for some sparkle of life that will show up on Dean’s eyes when they’re alone but always together, jumping through tears and making their own twisted future -- and past and present.
But this is not one of those moments, he notices. Dean simply raises an eyebrow at his statement. “A physicist?”
“A fatalist.” Sam repeats. His arms are burning from the effort of rowing the damn boat nonstop since... he can’t really remember. He can’t bring himself to care, either. Dean only makes a soft noise of understanding.
“So was Newton.” Dean says matter-of-factly, his old, annoying ‘I’m older therefore I know more than you’ tone lacing every word escaping his lips. “Especially when it came to apples falling from trees. They’re always contrived to land with a splat. He left the child to rot.”
It’s Sam’s turn to raise an eyebrow, curiosity overcoming his mild rage at Dean’s constant apathy. “Are you implying he’s the apple?”
"I’m implying that he did not fall far from the tree.”
Oh. It does make sense.
{ Dean W. / Winchester Twins Brothers }