The pie looked delicious, which was no surprise considering that Claire had gotten it. She seemed to always know what he liked, what food would be tempting, how to convince him to do the necessary paperwork at the garage--she was his best friend after all. "Yeah, remember that cherry pie we got there Thursday for lunch? With the flaky crust? It's the best."
Dean frowned, sitting down at the table to grab a slice of pie. He stared at it for a minute before taking a bite, but remembering that Sam was probably too crazy to eat right now made him push it back and stand to go pacing again. "How long is this crazy thing supposed to last?" It was just wrong. This had to be some sort of crazy dream that they were going to laugh at later, right? It just had to be.
All the warnings everyone had spouted at Sam were running through his head, and Dean felt sick. Was his brother going to be sent back? Was he going to ever be Sam again? Was this gonna come back to screw over his future niece or nephew? What if Sam was tied to do the bidding of the crazy bitch who owned the pits, or what if--
Goddamn it, Sammy, why the hell do you have to be so hardheaded? Nothing's WRONG with you, one drop of that bastard's blood can't compete with being half of Mom and half of Dad. </I.