you scratch my back and i'll scratch yours.
of the two brothers, he's certainly come to appeal to the correct one. dean would shoot on sight, only ask questions as the life leaves the eyes of every wolf in this pack. but rarely has the younger winchester managed to ignore a plea, hesitant to take a life if perhaps it isn't justified. still, pistol loaded with silver bullets holds steady aim at the alpha's chest; ready to fire on instinct should this go south. "what'd'you mean, scratch your back? definitely don't need ya to scratch mine. give me one good reason i shouldn't shoot you, your wife, and every other monster you've created. tell me why i should believe you're any different than–" lids flutter closed for just a moment, memories of a woman sam had once fallen for; one whom he had been forced to kill upon her turn into the very beast that now stands before him. "what could you possibly say to keep me from pulling this trigger?"