Dean seems to spend a second debating each song as it's listed. Whitesnake earns a briefly screwed-up expression as though he might be considering arguing that one, but then he seems to reluctantly accept it as fact, and he nods along with the rest of them.
Really, it's a combination of all those things Michael had been thinking — a test to see if they were worth remembering, a test to see if Michael would play along with him. A test to see how much both those songs and Dean's request matter to him. They don't have to matter much. They just have to matter at all.
He's tempted to point out that Rock the Casbah is overplayed, but opts not to waste the effort.
Besides, the follow-up question is worth a little more seriousness than that. Dean's lips press into an unhappy line, and he- debates, for a second, whether or not he should answer. It's just- even as impossible as it is, even knowing both of them are too dead to ever go back to their home world, part of him still retains this stupid, irrational fear that Michael will find a way to go home, hunt down his father, and restore him to power.
If they hadn't bonded, if he hadn't shared thoughts with the guy, he probably wouldn't have answered. Reluctant as he is to admit it, part of him trusts that won't happen now.
"He wanted me to kill him. He really did." Which could sound like an apology, or an explanation — until he follows it up with a clearer, "But I wouldn't. He's human. He gets to spend the rest of his tiny, stupid, human little life running around dealing with human bullshit, until he gets sick and dies like the rest of us."
no subject
Really, it's a combination of all those things Michael had been thinking — a test to see if they were worth remembering, a test to see if Michael would play along with him. A test to see how much both those songs and Dean's request matter to him. They don't have to matter much. They just have to matter at all.
He's tempted to point out that Rock the Casbah is overplayed, but opts not to waste the effort.
Besides, the follow-up question is worth a little more seriousness than that. Dean's lips press into an unhappy line, and he- debates, for a second, whether or not he should answer. It's just- even as impossible as it is, even knowing both of them are too dead to ever go back to their home world, part of him still retains this stupid, irrational fear that Michael will find a way to go home, hunt down his father, and restore him to power.
If they hadn't bonded, if he hadn't shared thoughts with the guy, he probably wouldn't have answered. Reluctant as he is to admit it, part of him trusts that won't happen now.
"He wanted me to kill him. He really did." Which could sound like an apology, or an explanation — until he follows it up with a clearer, "But I wouldn't. He's human. He gets to spend the rest of his tiny, stupid, human little life running around dealing with human bullshit, until he gets sick and dies like the rest of us."