"Hell, I don't know. I just got to this dance, remember?" Bobby sat back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his face. It wasn't like Bobby was jumping at the idea of killing Dean, either. Instinct told him that was what he should do, and if he'd acted on that instinct immediately instead of inviting him in he might have managed it. Now, though? It was a lot harder, now.

"I just don't want to end up burying you, too, Sam. Already thought I buried your brother. I don't want to do that again."