Dean nods, holding his jeans in his hands before he sighs and sits down on the blanket, running a hand through his hair. "I would've been glad to hear it," he says, not unkindly, watching his own bare feet with a sigh.

"Forgot whose life I was living for a minute there. Lately, it's like..." He looks up, through the leaves overhead and into the slow wheeling night sky. "The world doesn't feel as small lately. Like I'm less boxed in." He looks back at Cas.

"The house is good. It's plenty."