Sam laughs, clipped and slightly manic, smoothing a hand through his hair. It's stained with blood. He's covered in blood, head to toe, a morbid haunting in the back seat. He looks like a moving corpse.

"All Winchesters are assholes. That's the universal joke. I already know I'm the worst of all of us."

They have a long drive together. Sam lays back and tries to relax, having pocketed the pain pills. He doesn't get to do that, while people suffer. There's dirt all over him, grass stains.

"Sam the Martyr. I never wanted to be like that, back with Ruby. I just - wanted to do whatever killed Lilith and saved the world. Honestly, I just wanted to burn out doing something God might actually find worthy. Maybe he'd have let me in if I did something with the evil shit in me."

He shrugs.

"I was wrong. Should have never left that church, though. That's the point of all this, Dean. I should have never left the church."

It's a bit mumbled; he drifts off, hurt and dizzy and drained.