( There's about a quarter of a second of debate when she thrusts her hand down over whether or not he should take it, whether he should trust she's got the strength to actually help haul him up — she's not exactly a body builder, and Dean's doesn't have what you might call a small frame.
But that quarter of a second flits by, and before he can really consider it he's already reaching out to grab her wrist for leverage. Between that and his left hand gripping the rope, he manages to heave himself up over the lip and roll away just in time to not get one of his wings caught in the giant asshole trash compactor beneath them.
One pregnant pause gets spent silently metabolizing the fact that he is actually still alive and not a pancake, and then he hauls himself up to look between her and the fraction of an inch of seam where a hallway used to be. )
That. ( He points at her. Points at it for emphasis. ) Sucked. That sucked.
( Which is... gratitude. It just doesn't look, smell, or sound like gratitude. But. You know. Thanks. )
no subject
But that quarter of a second flits by, and before he can really consider it he's already reaching out to grab her wrist for leverage. Between that and his left hand gripping the rope, he manages to heave himself up over the lip and roll away just in time to not get one of his wings caught in the giant asshole trash compactor beneath them.
One pregnant pause gets spent silently metabolizing the fact that he is actually still alive and not a pancake, and then he hauls himself up to look between her and the fraction of an inch of seam where a hallway used to be. )
That. ( He points at her. Points at it for emphasis. ) Sucked. That sucked.
( Which is... gratitude. It just doesn't look, smell, or sound like gratitude. But. You know. Thanks. )