And that was the way he wanted things. After Lisa and Ben, he knew that he was truly cursed and the Mark had nothing to do with it. Everyone close to him died. Hell, he wasn't immune himself. The corner of his mouth quirked up at the thought of the old days. When he'd first gotten Sam back and they worked cases that were simple. Black and white. Hunters and Monsters. No gray areas. No angels, demons were few and far between. Simple.
But without the new gray areas, they wouldn't have Cas. And damned if the thought of losing the strange angel didn't upset him. The ties that bound them were nearly as strong as his ties to Sam. Though he'd never found anything that held him in a tighter stranglehold than the bonds of blood. He didn't begrudge Sam, or at least he hadn't before the Mark.
Everything was getting twisted again. He punched the wall and put his fist through the drywall. He was going to have to explain that to Sam and Cas later. While they stared at him like he was the frog in a high school science class. He leaned against the wall, the plaster cool against his forehead.
He could leave. He probably should. Sammy would be safer without him. The Mark on his arm was the only reason he could believe that. Even after years of witnessing how lethal Sam could be, he still couldn't bring himself to admit that his baby brother didn't need him around to watch his back.
