[Dean pauses, glaring at the dash as if it had dared argue with him on the matter too, before following suit and getting out of the car. He might've slammed the car door a bit harder than necessary, but that didn't mean he was having a tiny bit of a temper tantrum. Dean? Never.

He met up with Sam and walked alongside of him, antsy to get inside but not too eager to run into this half angel kid.]

Right. Sure. Yeah. Together. You sure you're okay with that? I trust you to have my back, Sammy, but you sound pretty attached to the kid already. If it comes down to skewering him, could you really do it? I'll take that responsibility.

[Dean scratched absently at the mark on his inner forearm, just under the crease of his elbow through his jacket.]

And what's the story on the ink, anyway? Did you wake up with this weird-ass mark, too? [He rolled up his sleeve to show Sam his tattoo.]