That one scene in 7x06 ‘Slash Fiction’ …
Sam struggling against his bonds, the metal of the cuffs clinking- he’s panicking now but trying not to show it, giving that thing wearing his brother the satisfaction.
“You know,” he casually starts, “in the time I’ve spent inside your brother, I’ve really grown to resent you both.” The leviathan says, perching himself up on the edge of the table.
Sam avoids his eyes. He’s difficult to look at- heart thrumming with familiarity and relief at his face, his smell, his voice- brain knowing better.
“Always um-ing and ah-ing and never just doing!” He chastises, “Well, aside from that one time… he still remembers it, y’know? That lonely night before Stanford? God, you were a wild one weren’t you? Where did you ever learn how to do that?” He’s biting his lip, smirking, red in the cheeks as if reminiscent. None of it is genuine.
The real Dean doesn’t remember- Sam chants to himself- a mantra- they were drunk, Dean drunker, he would have said something if he remembers it, right? He doesn’t.
“If you’re going to eat me, just get it over with. Spare me the victory speech.” Sam grunts, straining away from the warm shape at his side. Sam hopes real-Dean is fairing better than he is.
“Dean” grins- something all-too toothy.
“Now where’s the fun in that, pretty boy? Maybe I wanna see if you’re just as good as he remembers.”
