The shock must show on his face from the way Tessa steps forward, reaching a hand out like she wants to touch him, only to have him step back another step.
No, that's wrong. It's always less than a month. It's always less than that, because he can't fathom being down here more than that. A year, max, maybe, given how much he drifts off, but no-- no. This is a nightmare. He doesn't know if he can actually have them as Death, but it has to be.
Dean doesn't acknowledge a single thing said, he just presses both hands against his face a moment, and then drops them down, pinching himself. Not the best way of determining this, but-- he turns to Cas, instead, and reaches out, grabbing his coat, jerking his hand over and squeezes, because he's never touched him, not in all the dreams, because they never last that long. Cas is warm and real and solid under his hand and Dean feels his knees go a little uneven, tension bleeding out of him.
no subject
The shock must show on his face from the way Tessa steps forward, reaching a hand out like she wants to touch him, only to have him step back another step.
No, that's wrong. It's always less than a month. It's always less than that, because he can't fathom being down here more than that. A year, max, maybe, given how much he drifts off, but no-- no. This is a nightmare. He doesn't know if he can actually have them as Death, but it has to be.
Dean doesn't acknowledge a single thing said, he just presses both hands against his face a moment, and then drops them down, pinching himself. Not the best way of determining this, but-- he turns to Cas, instead, and reaches out, grabbing his coat, jerking his hand over and squeezes, because he's never touched him, not in all the dreams, because they never last that long. Cas is warm and real and solid under his hand and Dean feels his knees go a little uneven, tension bleeding out of him.
"Son of a bitch."