Dean didn't quite know what to do with that information, all things considered. He could have easily guessed what he was hunting if she hadn't added in the facts of it being his turn, which implied Bobby's kind of hunting, the way he used to take them out when they were kids, when they couldn't even shoot a damn deer (as he would've said.)
Except he's sent entirely off track at the mention of Sam haven been here for at least a month. Dean supposes it's possible - he doesn't even really know how long he's been gone for, and yet it still strikes across his face in some kind of panic. It's the realization that he hasn't been able to keep track of his brother the whole time he was lost in Hell, that any number of things could've happened to Sam that he wouldn't have been able to stop. He'd spent so much time trying to ignore those truths that they rushed to the surface now, facing the facts that Sam had been here for a month and Dean hadn't been around to do a thing about it.
He wasn't there to protect his brother and look what happened. Look what he traded in; Dean still wouldn't have taken it back for the world. Because at least Sam had his life, and that was what mattered.
Not that it really looked much like anyone needed saving from this place.
"Been tracking Sam since I was a kid, I got it covered." It's mumbled under his breath as he drags a hand down his face, trying to adjust to all of this at once, but he pops back up to attention at what he would consider to be almost an accusation. 'You aren't well,' words he doesn't know what to do with because they're not ones he wants to address. Of course he's not doing well, he wants to say, but the silence just lingers there, stubborn, unwilling to press any further because he wouldn't even know where to begin. It's too much, all at once, and it's better if he just ignores it. Pretends there isn't a thing that's upsetting him because there can't be. Isn't time for it. He doesn't get to be in pain over this, it just isn't allowed.
"Air doesn't need any clearing."
But boy, is he ever eying that flask like a starving man.
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Dean didn't quite know what to do with that information, all things considered. He could have easily guessed what he was hunting if she hadn't added in the facts of it being his turn, which implied Bobby's kind of hunting, the way he used to take them out when they were kids, when they couldn't even shoot a damn deer (as he would've said.)
Except he's sent entirely off track at the mention of Sam haven been here for at least a month. Dean supposes it's possible - he doesn't even really know how long he's been gone for, and yet it still strikes across his face in some kind of panic. It's the realization that he hasn't been able to keep track of his brother the whole time he was lost in Hell, that any number of things could've happened to Sam that he wouldn't have been able to stop. He'd spent so much time trying to ignore those truths that they rushed to the surface now, facing the facts that Sam had been here for a month and Dean hadn't been around to do a thing about it.
He wasn't there to protect his brother and look what happened. Look what he traded in; Dean still wouldn't have taken it back for the world. Because at least Sam had his life, and that was what mattered.
Not that it really looked much like anyone needed saving from this place.
"Been tracking Sam since I was a kid, I got it covered." It's mumbled under his breath as he drags a hand down his face, trying to adjust to all of this at once, but he pops back up to attention at what he would consider to be almost an accusation. 'You aren't well,' words he doesn't know what to do with because they're not ones he wants to address. Of course he's not doing well, he wants to say, but the silence just lingers there, stubborn, unwilling to press any further because he wouldn't even know where to begin. It's too much, all at once, and it's better if he just ignores it. Pretends there isn't a thing that's upsetting him because there can't be. Isn't time for it. He doesn't get to be in pain over this, it just isn't allowed.
"Air doesn't need any clearing."
But boy, is he ever eying that flask like a starving man.