[ Sam, not exactly expecting the fist, staggers backward at it. Though he'd been seated it nearly unseats him and he reels backward momentarily, face stinging with the hit. He stays where he is for a long moment, face reddening, staring sideways where he'd landed after the blow. Finally, he turns back to Dean, expression relatively unchanged, if slightly more deflated than earlier. ]

I know you did. [ Sam knows how hard his brother works to keep him safe, how that's what it's always been about, and he can't blame Dean for that. John had practically drilled in his son's head that protecting his younger brother was the top of the list, no matter the expense.

This is the problem, Sam thinks. ]

My life isn't worth more than everyone else's, Dean. I know all you've ever done, that you're still trying to do, is keep me safe, but--

[ The angry mark on his face throbs slightly and he raises a hand to it, unsure of what to say. ]

... I think you'd be better off without me around. You've said it before yourself, and I think you were right.