"Yeah, at the hotel, that's where it happened. I mean, I guess I do have a fear after all," he said, shrugging as if the whole thing was no big deal to him even though he couldn't shake it. Even soulless him, that felt little and had even been referred to by Dean as RoboSam, couldn't shake it. Maybe because it was Dean. Sam looked at his brother for a few seconds and decided Dean didn't need that. "No, you didn't. You were there and you said I was wrong, but I shot me. Other me shot me. Can't really blame the guy."
So heavy day-drinking was probably still a thing too, and not much about their lives - the little stuff like this - had changed. Maybe, he couldn't base everything on a beer, but this was nice. He handed over his bag to Dean without complaint and followed his brother to the bedroom that belonged to him. Future him. Right now him? He moved past Dean, drinking from his beer as he looked around the room. It was - nice. There were even a few books on the nightstand,a few dogeared and they looked well-read. "I like it," he said, sitting on the bed and giving the mattress a test bounce. It's weird to think we actually have a home. A home full of artifacts, but still. A home."