Hey Dean. Aren’t you a handsome son of a gun. We need to talk. I get it, I get it. I’m my own worst nightmare, is that it, huh? Joke all you want, smartass. But you can’t lie to me – I know the truth. I know how dead you are inside. How worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror and hate what you see. It’s not gonna work. You’re not real! Sure I am – I’m you. I don’t think so. You see, this is my siesta – not yours. All I gotta do is snap my fingers and you go bye bye. I’m not going anywhere – neither are you. Like I said, we need to talk. I mean, you’re going to hell and you won’t lift a finger to stop it. Talk about low self-esteem! Then again, it’s not much of a life worth saving…
(wake up, Dean!) I mean, after all, you’ve got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing. You’re as mindless and as obedient as an attack dog. That’s not true. No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That’s Dad’s. Your favourite leather jacket? Dad’s!
Your music? Dad’s! Do you even have an original thought? No… All there is, is “Watch out for Sammy!”
“Look after your little brother, boy!” You can still hear your dad’s voice in your head, can’t you? Clear as a bell. Just shut up. Think about it, all he ever did was train you – boss you around. But Sam – Sam he doted on. Sam he loved. I mean it, I’m getting angry! Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy’s blond little instrument. Your father didn’t care whether you lived or died, why should you?! SON OF A BITCH! My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap you been telling me about protecting Sam – that was his crap. He’s the one who couldn’t protect his family! He’s the one who let mum die! He wasn’t there for Sam – I always was! He wasn’t there! I ain’t deserve what he put on me! And I don’t deserve to go to hell! You can’t escape me, Dean! You’re gonna die – and this? This is what you’re gonna become!