Yeah, he's banking on Sam making a run for it, but he's also pretty goddamn sure he's got legs as tall as the kid, so whatever. Dean purses his lips a moment and decides against saying anything else, walking them up the steps that creak under their feet.

"'cause it was built forever ago. The guys who built it were called the Men of Letters."

Which doesn't really answer anything at all, but Dean isn't too worried about it as he swings the door open and holds his hand out for the pack. Christ, Sam smoking at all is kind of terrifying, but Sam smoking at this age is worse.

"Who even sold you smokes?"