"I'm guessing the fake me or whatever he was, had the whole soul package, and he looked terrified of me. It was weird how real everything felt," Sam inhaled deeply through his nose and thinned his lips while thinking. "But uh, it was a trap. You and him trapped me. You said you had to kill me because I was wrong and you couldn't look at me. Then there was a shootout between me and Sam and blah blah blah. You were gonna kill me, but I killed Sam first. And you both disappeared." Sam cleared his throat and drank more beer. "Or something like that. And for that story that you didn't ask for, you owe me."
He wasn't going to tell Dean that he was presently his biggest fear. Sam was warier of him now, and would probably check in on him a few times while was sleeping anytime in the near forever, but in general, it didn't feel wrong to be around Dean.
"Mint condition vintage cars, that you're going to let me drive." he parroted, giving Dean a questioning look. "And a jar with the wicked witch and a key to freaking Oz." Sam huffed out a laugh. "Dude you've been holding out on me. How badass were we in the future?"