Dean sighed, mostly to suppress the mixed emotions welling up in his chest. If only he could expel them half as easily. Dempsey was apparently feeling cantankerous this evening, but Dean was not put off.

If he were in a different frame of mind, the action of shaking out his pockets might have stirred a different feeling in him. As it was, Dean simply shrugged. It would be easier to be angry, he supposed, but after sobering himself up after his year in the bottle, Dean had come to several conclusions and none of them anchored themselves in anger. Regret, disappointment, frustration with himself, but never angry.

"It is only as much as you've done for me." Walking him home after too much to drink; making the hard, albeit right, decision last time Dean had a moment of weakness. If Dean had been enough to save Don Juan from himself, they might be in a drastically different place in life. Tonight he could at least keep him alive for another few hours.