"I don't care," Sam says, desperately, hands fisting into his hair, but there's an ice in his blood he can't shake. Anyone could say that about anyone's brother, right? Of course Dean loves Sam, of course he keeps his little brother safe, it's his job and it's what he does.

"Everyone's big brother does that," he insists. "I'm not chosen or different or - "

- or a freak in any way besides the ways he already knows he is. He knows he's different, and doomed to be different because he knows how to load a shotgun and make a salt line and sharpen a knife. But he's not meant for anything. He's not meant for anything besides running away.