"I want you to back the hell up," Dean enunciates slowly, as though Sam may have missed it the first time he gave the order. Maybe once upon a time, seeing Sam brandish his neck against a knife would make Dean hesitate, but Dean no longer lets anything he feels get in the way of survival.
He doesn't trust Sam. He has no reason to.
Of course, he doesn't want to slit his throat open, either, because that would be pointless. He knows Sam isn't infected, even if he can't sure 100% certain that someone isn't wearing his body, and Sam may have some useful information. Hell, he may even know something about the Colt — maybe that's why he's here.
Instead of waiting for Sam to listen to him, since apparently Sam is a little more than interested in dying, Dean pulls back the knife, drops it, and instead of stabbing Sam, pulls back and punches him in the face.
no subject
He doesn't trust Sam. He has no reason to.
Of course, he doesn't want to slit his throat open, either, because that would be pointless. He knows Sam isn't infected, even if he can't sure 100% certain that someone isn't wearing his body, and Sam may have some useful information. Hell, he may even know something about the Colt — maybe that's why he's here.
Instead of waiting for Sam to listen to him, since apparently Sam is a little more than interested in dying, Dean pulls back the knife, drops it, and instead of stabbing Sam, pulls back and punches him in the face.