Of everybody in the room right now, Dean rather thought he was the one who should be the most off kilter. He was the one in the middle, who knew both sides of what was happening, trying to reconcile two very different parts of his life and keep everybody from panicking or fleeing. He could feel Hanna shaking behind him and Don Juan had that look on his face like a kicked puppy and Dean wasn't sure where to go from here, but he needed a minute to think.

"Everybody take a breath." He blew out a slow breath himself. As unexpected as this was, Dean had enough space in his house and his head for everybody, but he needed them to be separate for a moment. So he turned to Hanna more fully, tugging the jacket onto her shoulders a little better. He squeezed her hands with one of his, he didn't want her to be worried about this. "Why don't you go upstairs and I'll be up in a few minutes? Just have a question for Dempsey here."

Don Juan hadn't just shown up unannounced for no reason after over a year of little more than glances across crowded rooms. Dean's reaction to having him here hadn't changed; that hopeful uptick in his heartrate was still the same. Nothing much had changed. He wasn't sure it ever would, despite knowing he wasn't any more equipped than last time. Then there was his situation with Hanna. It had been at her behest, though he was enjoying himself and he held a certain level of fondness for her. Having the two of them here in the room was still a little strange, but he needed to know why Don Juan was here.