HEY WHY NOT. one more.
He isn’t listening. He knows he isn’t. He should be going over these armory stocks more closely with Bobby, trusty Rufus propped up against his leg, but his attention is drawn elsewhere.
Dean sits as he always does in the corner, with his face drawn and his shoulders squared like he’s expecting a fight. He cleans and puts together guns so quickly that you’d know on sight he’s been doing it his whole life.
Castiel narrows his eyes at him, searching beneath the surface.
“Hey. Earth to Castiel?”
Castiel looks up. Bobby is giving him a Look that he doesn’t really appreciate but he bites his tongue, knowing that he’s in the wrong. “Sorry. Go on,” he says.
Bobby rolls his eyes, contorts his mouth a little, and continues what he was saying earlier.
Dean doesn’t look up once. His hands don’t slow or shake.