Judas could absolutely understand destiny sucking. "Destiny is a bitch," he agreed. He knew that far too well. He had two thousand years of that particular life lesson. "As is its writer." He had to admit, despite the cost Sam paid, Judas was a little jealous of his success. If someone had told him all those centuries ago that he could avoid having to betray Christ by going to hell, he would have taken it in a heartbeat. Still, he did not belittle Sam's hardships by bringing that up.
He stood then, and hopped off the bench. "I have to go...," he hesitated, gesturing vaguely around with one hand in a confused fashion, "try to be human again." He began walking off, and casually called over his shoulder, "Oh, and Sam? I was never going to kill you."
And then he was simply gone, quicker than the human eye could follow. Whether he'd simply exploded into bats and blended into the dark night, or whether he'd sped out faster than Sam could follow, it didn't matter. Even if his head was on a bit straighter, he did still have a flair for the dramatics.