"I remember." Dean could hardly forget. It had been a long while ago, but Dean rarely forgot anything that mattered. It had mattered enough to Don Juan to tell him, and so Dean had hardly let it go, even in the years between now and then. He seemed to collect little memories that made up the pieces of something that would never be truly whole, but he h eld onto them anyway, hoping if he did, some day he might have all of the pieces.

He took another contemplative sip of the bourbon and looked up at Dempsey out of the corner of his eye, waiting for him to continue.