"...And you trusted Ruby!" Dean spat the remark, instinctively going for his little brother's jugular. It was a verbal blow intended to shut down the argument. It worked.
Sam didn't respond. He sat in a furious silence that radiated across the car.
"What? Dont have anything to say?" Dean baited, fight mode fully engaged. He spared a glance at his brother.
Sam didn't have his signature puppy eyes now; he was 6' 4" of angry Winchester. "I have plenty to say, Dean. But there's no point in saying it if no one listens."
"Yeah...well you don't listen to me either. So don't pull the misunderstood saint crap! Cause it's a crock, Sam, and I know it."
The muscle in Sam's jaw twitched. "You're never gonna let me live this down are you?" His tone was even.
"Well, you know...I think the shelf life of starting the apocalypse is like 5 or 6 months minimum."
Sam looked out of the passenger side window and huffed. The gesture was so much like the Sam he knew, the boy he loved, that Dean spared another glance.
"What? What's your problem."
"You, Dean. I think it's you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Why don't you put away the salt that you like rubbing in my wounds so much? You think I already don't feel bad about Ruby?"
"Not bad enough."
Sam shook his head. "Yeah and you never trusted someone you shouldn't have."
"Not. A. Demon. Sam."
Sam shook his head. "She was the only person I had, Dean. You don't think I feel betrayed? That I'm not constantly questioning my own judgment now?"
"She wasn't the only person you had. She wasn't a person. You knew what she was."
Sam crossed his arms with a furious huff. "I thought maybe she was looking for redemption."
"You can't redeem demons, Sam."
His little brother's eyebrows drew together and his eyes welled before he shoved the emotion back down.
"What is your problem?"
And his brother, The Boy With The Demon Blood looked back at him, silently begging for redemption.