[ Jessica. Oh, God, no. His throat closes up with the shock of the word, his mind flitting immediately back to when he'd first encountered Lucifer, how the bastard had taken her form. Brief, hot anger flares up in his stomach, mingling with the grief of everything, and he has to take a moment to breathe, to let things settle, before he can speak again. ]

If you hadn't saved Dad, I wouldn't even be here at all. [ Well, it's true. ] ... We've all made choices, right? And, for better or worse...

[ He turns back to her, expression softening, some of the angst of earlier finally ebbing. ]

If there's no blame on me, then there's no way that there's any on you. You were just trying to protect your family, every time.

[ Sam squeezes her hand, gently. ]

Thank you. For that. For everything.