One scene from Tombstone with captions for the Wincest-impaired.
for Paula (@wetsammywinchester) who requested it the night this one premiered. But then I got distracted and forgot…until Jared and Jensen gave us their own live action Wincest captions for the episode:
Five times Dean was okay with Sam driving and one time he really wasn’t.
When I saw this scene in 13×2, I yelled “Season 1!” and my husband looked at me like I was crazy (which he does a lot when we watch Supernatural together). But it’s true.
According to the wiki, Sam drives the impala 12 times in season 1. 10 of those with Dean as the passenger.
He never drives baby in season 2 (except in recaps) and rarely after that.
What happens at the end of season 1 that makes Sam stop driving?
Moreover, in 2×03, within a couple days of Dean getting Baby back on the road, he tosses Sam the keys to go back to the motel. So it’s not like Dean forbids him from driving; it’s more Sam who would prefer not to. Understandably…
Imagine little Sammy who isn’t quite right. Sam who likes it when other people get hurt. Who watches and smiles and maybe thinks about it when he touches himself, who makes people uncomfortable simply by existing with his cold smile and his dead eyes.
Sammy who goes soft and warm just for his big brother. Who plays a part for Dean because Dean is his, and he knows exactly what Dean wants to see. Sammy who widens his eyes and pretends he’s innocent right up until the moment he asks his brother to hurt someone for him, because there is no line that Dean won’t cross for his little brother and Sam knows.
Sam who plays his big brother like a fucking violin, because he doesn’t like to get his hands dirty, and Dean loves him too much to say no.
Dean had always been the pure
one. No matter how much he drank, smoked, fucked around, passed out on the
street, was covered in blood and mud from another hunt, there was something
clean about him that seemed to draw people in. They knew behind his dirty finger
nails and greasy hair, old leather jacket and cheap flannel was a pure soul.
Sam had never been pure.
There had been a wicked spark in his eyes ever since he could remember. His
world was different from Dean’s. He saw the shadows lurking in motel room corners
long before he started hunting. He felt the tug whenever they met a witch, a
demon, any evil creature, really. It felt wrong to kill them, like cutting off
a limb, watching the blood splash out, allowing the excruciating pain to course
through him. Sam had always known he was one of them.
Driving through the mid
west, just the two of them in their Impala, no soul around for miles, they
would sometimes let the covers fall. Dean would allow his playboy,
whiskey-fond, hard guy attitude to slip, and Sam would stop pretending to be
the soft, gentle guy who wanted to go to Stanford, get a law degree and be
respectable. Dean would spread his legs like a bitch in heat, and Sam would
fuck him like an animal. Dean would beg and plead and whine in need, and Sam
would take his sweet time to completely break his brother.
Backup bloh 