The doctor told me that I was dying.
Useless news, really. I've been a dying man since I became a hunter – you get unlucky sooner of later. It comes with the job.
It got Sam's attention, though.
The human mortality is funny thing. It changes people.
Sam was terrified. He didn't sleep for three days while searching every resource he had, for a way out; a loop hole. For a way to prove his love to me.
And he did. He loved me enough to save my life.
But if that's true, then tell me why I'm not happy.
Is it because my life came at the cost of someone else's? Is it because deep down, I feel that Roy wasn't doing a wrong thing? Is it because Layla wasn't saved?
No.
Sam called John. He called and told him that I was dying.
Such a message should've provoked some sort of a reaction.
Not with this guy… dad didn't show up, he didn't try to help, he didn't even call.
We've been hunting together for so many years… I've been a good son, done everything he asked of me.
A couple of weeks ago he sent us on a random hunt across the country, but now, when I really needed him, he couldn't find the time to do something for his dying son.
Thanks a lot dad. Thanks for nothing.