"I don't even know who you are!" Dean yells after his future self, stepping over the body at his feet to give chase. His counterpart doesn't even turn around, continuing on his way back to the cabin as if Dean hasn't said a word.
"Say something, goddamnit!" Dean growls, grabbing him roughly by the back of his jacket and yanking him backwards, redirecting the momentum to slam him up against the wall of a nearby building.
He only grins.
"Think you're so different Dean? Think you're so much better than me? Newsflash: I am you."
"No, you're not." Dean grits out, the urge to wrap his hands around his future self's neck and squeeze the life out of him nearly overpowering his better judgment. "You are some kind of damaged if you think I'd ever,"
"Kill a civilian?" Future-Dean suggests with a cocky looking smirk, "put someone out of their misery and not feel any remorse? It's in you alright, but you just like to think that you're above that, don't you?
"Let me tell you something Dean," The grin slips from his face, and Dean's breath catches in his throat. He knows. He's felt it. As much as he doesn't want to be, he's hanging on this Dean's word, because maybe he has the answers.
"You don't care. You haven't for a long time. You know it's all just a big disgusting abyss of grays, but you're still trying to pretend you'll find something that matters.
"Don't tell me you're not like this inside 'cause you are and you know it. You pretend for Sammy; you act like the big hero he thinks you are because you don't know what you'd do if he ever figures you out. But guess what Dean?" His tone slips back into one of mockery, but his eyes are dull, and Dean knows he doesn't lie.
"Sam's not here anymore, and he's never coming back."
