( In that long-running list of things they've got in common, scrawl on a little something about missing a brother and looking out for what he can find of his in others. It was easier with Cas around, because they both know him. Because Cas can help fill in a fraction of the family gap, even if the rest of the hole is the size of Texas and vaguely shaped like Sasquatch.

But the dude's gone, and so here Dean is with The Lovers subtly stitched into his clothes somewhere with not a single damn one of his people to show for it.

He pauses before throwing his second knife to shoot Geralt a look at the tail end of his explanation. Freaking elves? Really? Jesus. The rest lines up so neatly with what he's seen of the pair of them, he can practically picture it.

He shakes his head, then flings his knife — a full spin. He usually throws for impact, not finesse. Put a little too much shine on it. Under his breath: )

Damn it.

( Can't stay salty for too long given the new topic. Way to pick one off the short list of them that instantly perk him up. )

Damn straight. ( Does he know Geralt has no concept of the quality of cars? Yes. However. That does not seem to keep him from being a little boastful about it. ) Get a good look, Gerald. That's the best one you're ever gonna see, I don't care who's domain you vacation in.