[Wondering implies uncertainty. The marquis isn't so sure Dean wasn't perfectly sure. But he'll never know one way or the other, he thinks; Dean is often inscrutable to him, in a bizarre and very specific way.]
[If he weren't, he suspects, they wouldn't be friends.]
[His eyes travel, full of their same old mad sanity, from fridge to shelf to Dean's retreating back to (briefly) his eyes to his hands to the surface of the desk again. No one else. Who else would there be? There is no one else.]
Dead.
[Family dead. Name dead. Records lost. What did it ever matter anyway? He was always his own man.]
[Which means something different now. Good or bad or both or neither. Confusing - the only thing he knows for sure.]
[ Spam ]
[If he weren't, he suspects, they wouldn't be friends.]
[His eyes travel, full of their same old mad sanity, from fridge to shelf to Dean's retreating back to (briefly) his eyes to his hands to the surface of the desk again. No one else. Who else would there be? There is no one else.]
Dead.
[Family dead. Name dead. Records lost. What did it ever matter anyway? He was always his own man.]
[Which means something different now. Good or bad or both or neither. Confusing - the only thing he knows for sure.]
[Irony.]