"Dean, I'm sorry," Sam said.
I would be angry too, if I couldn't wield my own boyfriend's weapon - and damn, that sounded a lot dirtier than I meant... Sam thought.
"Dean..." Sam began once more.
"You know what? I get it," Dean said, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. "I'm not the one. No one could pick up the hammer; you picked up Thor's hammer. I get it. It's all good. Someone had to pick it up and it was you." Dean shook his head.
"You are worthy," Sam said.
"But I'm not," Dean replied. "Story of my life."
