Roger's brows met at the center line, as his hooded head bowed to get a closer look at the markings in his best friend. He shook his hair out of his eyes to get a closer look, slid gloved fingertips over the area, and still it only barely made sense.

"What is that?" Roger asked as he passed the bottle back, more fascinated by stories of Dean's idea of home than he was sorry for himself. Maybe if he could just understand what Dean had lived through, he could offer some kind of comfort on the matter, as it seemed Sam had a soothing effect. That or the exact, complete opposite, but he attributed that to the grating effect of any kind of family.