Well that was different. Dean fixed Dempsey with a raised eyebrow, unsure as to where the attitude was coming from. He'd seen Dempsey get knocked into, but also could see the familiar flush of alcohol on his cheeks. Perhaps not drunk, but on the way. Dean had no room to judge.

"I was headed that way myself," which was true and now it seemed like a purposeful coincidence, like that night Don Juan had walked him home, but he wasn't about to change his plans because Dempsey was cranky for some reason.

Dean turned back toward the way he'd been coming, keeping a slower pace than usual, so Dempsey could follow if he wanted.