"Don't look at mine either," Derek replies, shaking his head as he takes the joint from Noah. He inhales another hit, eyelids heavy as he speaks with smoke in his lungs. "I have no interest in knowing what my soul looks like."

It's probably more than he's afraid to know what it looks like. The alpha red hides the blue in his eyes, the evidence of horrible thins he's done, but there's probably no hiding it from a soul.

He tips his head back as he blows out the smoke, watching as it dissipates against the darkening sky.

"This is supposed to be a fun, relaxing experience for all of us," he says, leaning over towards Dean a bit and then following through with the motion and landing on his back in the grass. He takes another long pull from the joint and gives into the feeling, to the weightlessness and the calm.