"I don't give a rat's ass what the devil thinks or wants or does. What I did I did for my brother, he deserves his life," more than he does, he almost says, because that's how he thinks. Sam deserves more of a life than he does and there's a part of him, albeit small, that hopes he got away from it - though the bigger, selfish part of him hopes that Sam's still out here fighting the good fight and looking for a way to get him out.

He cocks a brow at that, grabbing the bottle he'd been drinking from himself and taking a couple swigs from it. "Protection? The hell would he need protection from. You think the whoever put me back together did that?" It worries him that someone thinks his brother is in danger enough that he needed to be protected by an outside source, a strong on at that. "You're right, I don't. We'll leave in a day or two to head up to South Dakota. I got a friend up there who'll know where my brother is." Once he's convinced Bobby he's the real deal.