Dean's not entirely sure that these are the answers he wants.
Granted, not a whole lot would make him comforted right now, save for Sam's continued existence. That is a comfort, in the same way that it's always been a comfort, but until he figures out more of whatever the hell is going on, he's not going to be able to settle in his own skin. Or anywhere, really. The last thing he can imagine right now is taking a seat and going easy on himself. No- there's a million things he already thinks he should be doing, and none of them have to do with making himself comfortable.
Even the continuation of Sam's words don't really do that much to help, and Dean begins to pick up a frantic pace moving about the room as Sam carries on, talks about there being all sorts of things here, including teenagers. Kids. He'll worry about the robots and the other shit later, but the kids are one massive problem in that no kid should ever be subjected (then why them, why is it always them) to something like this. Dean doesn't want to have to worry about a bunch of kids being separated from their homes but he's already doing exactly that within seconds, putting the world on his shoulders because that's where it's always supposed to be. Sam's obviously been doing the same exact thing if he's trying to keep everyone here safe and Dean's quick to think to himself that it's his responsibility now.
Or maybe he's just frantically trying to find a distraction. Something to take himself out of his own head, remove his mind, put something else in its place. Don't let him be himself right now, he can't do it, he can't.
"So, okay- you're tellin' me that we stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone, because this is up there on the weird scale, you know that, right? I mean, you're seein' the same things i'm seein'?"
He's not trying to bust Sam's balls for not having all of this figured out, but he feels all squirmy and disgusting under his skin, as if he shouldn't be allowed to exist in the first place. Look at all you've done wrong, Dean Winchester is the one thing his brain can provide, over and over and over again, a reminder that there are souls that he- that he- that he-
Second chances aren't meant for shit like him. And wasn't that the point to begin with?
"Place seems pretty stress free, Sammy- we're in a goddamn tree like a bunch of Disney princesses, that doesn't seem a little weird to you? There's gotta be something else involved here, something else goin' on."
no subject
Granted, not a whole lot would make him comforted right now, save for Sam's continued existence. That is a comfort, in the same way that it's always been a comfort, but until he figures out more of whatever the hell is going on, he's not going to be able to settle in his own skin. Or anywhere, really. The last thing he can imagine right now is taking a seat and going easy on himself. No- there's a million things he already thinks he should be doing, and none of them have to do with making himself comfortable.
Even the continuation of Sam's words don't really do that much to help, and Dean begins to pick up a frantic pace moving about the room as Sam carries on, talks about there being all sorts of things here, including teenagers. Kids. He'll worry about the robots and the other shit later, but the kids are one massive problem in that no kid should ever be subjected (then why them, why is it always them) to something like this. Dean doesn't want to have to worry about a bunch of kids being separated from their homes but he's already doing exactly that within seconds, putting the world on his shoulders because that's where it's always supposed to be. Sam's obviously been doing the same exact thing if he's trying to keep everyone here safe and Dean's quick to think to himself that it's his responsibility now.
Or maybe he's just frantically trying to find a distraction. Something to take himself out of his own head, remove his mind, put something else in its place. Don't let him be himself right now, he can't do it, he can't.
"So, okay- you're tellin' me that we stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone, because this is up there on the weird scale, you know that, right? I mean, you're seein' the same things i'm seein'?"
He's not trying to bust Sam's balls for not having all of this figured out, but he feels all squirmy and disgusting under his skin, as if he shouldn't be allowed to exist in the first place. Look at all you've done wrong, Dean Winchester is the one thing his brain can provide, over and over and over again, a reminder that there are souls that he- that he- that he-
Second chances aren't meant for shit like him. And wasn't that the point to begin with?
"Place seems pretty stress free, Sammy- we're in a goddamn tree like a bunch of Disney princesses, that doesn't seem a little weird to you? There's gotta be something else involved here, something else goin' on."