"By --" he stammers, letting go of the mug now. He doesn't know. He doesn't know the answer, he only knows he recognizes the symbol. "I've seen this before," he hedges, remembering the film, the case and the symbol emblazoned upon it.
How did it end up on his hand. He eyes Doc, expecting something from him. Why does he get the mark? Because he watched that freakin' film strip?
Doc supposes it's last night that did him in, that marked him, and Dean goes white, whiter than he is if it's possible, veins coursing ice on through to his brittle heart.
"What -," he starts. "Maybe it's delayed." He doesn't know. It could be the film. It's not the night before. It's not. It's not often you see fear in Dean, and in this case, an underlying confusion he doesn't hold back. "It's not last night."
It's not rejecting Cas. It's not getting bombed. It's not passing out alone. It's not visiting Neal and them.
no subject
How did it end up on his hand. He eyes Doc, expecting something from him. Why does he get the mark? Because he watched that freakin' film strip?
Doc supposes it's last night that did him in, that marked him, and Dean goes white, whiter than he is if it's possible, veins coursing ice on through to his brittle heart.
"What -," he starts. "Maybe it's delayed." He doesn't know. It could be the film. It's not the night before. It's not. It's not often you see fear in Dean, and in this case, an underlying confusion he doesn't hold back. "It's not last night."
It's not rejecting Cas. It's not getting bombed. It's not passing out alone. It's not visiting Neal and them.
It's not.
Right?