Dean eyes her a moment - she's been in some, but not most, and it's a little unsettling to look at her, to realize that she's there and watching him like that. Not real, you know that. Still, no sense not enjoying this, right? It'll end eventually but right now he's just in it for the ride, and Dean figures it may as well be a good one.

So he smiles, jams one hand into his pocket, and nods. "Good, yeah, not really wanting an audience. You two busted me out? How long's it been?"

The answer always varies - a month, a day, a few hours, a week, it just depends on how long he's been dozing off, trying not to stare at the blackness of the coffin.