[ They what? Deep down, he's aware Dean's wings weren't there from the start, but he can't recall ever not seeing them. Even before—all this, they'd already grown in. He tries to consider if he feels the same, but the truth is, Geralt has not changed between then and now. And yet, when he looks at Roach, the mare seems—hollow. No longer the sturdy companion he's had for ages. As though at any moment, she might crumble to dust.
Eventually, his attention cuts back to Dean's face. ]
You didn't allow anything. [ They have not spoken of Sam in a long time, but this much Geralt has never wavered on. Sam made his choices. His burdens are not Dean's.
Still—that isn't what Dean is asking. However Geralt might feel about it, he recognizes the truth with a sudden sharpness: Dean would not have let his brother drift away without following him down. Whether Sam could be saved or not is beside the point. Looking back, he can't recall the precise moment when Dean let Sam go.
He starts to say something else when the sky above splinters—a single crack cutting through the clouds. ]
Why now? Why is this on your mind after all these years?
no subject
Eventually, his attention cuts back to Dean's face. ]
You didn't allow anything. [ They have not spoken of Sam in a long time, but this much Geralt has never wavered on. Sam made his choices. His burdens are not Dean's.
Still—that isn't what Dean is asking. However Geralt might feel about it, he recognizes the truth with a sudden sharpness: Dean would not have let his brother drift away without following him down. Whether Sam could be saved or not is beside the point. Looking back, he can't recall the precise moment when Dean let Sam go.
He starts to say something else when the sky above splinters—a single crack cutting through the clouds. ]
Why now? Why is this on your mind after all these years?