Maybe he'd been expecting something like that, reminiscent of a memorable visit, years ago now, when he'd grabbed his coat on his way out. The ease and the comfort he'd once felt here was gone tonight. Dean felt on more edge as he swung on his coat and followed Don Juan from the manor. At least outside they weren't likely to be overheard. It was dark and cold, his breath fogging up the air before him as he hunkered down into his coat; he was missing his orange scarf right about now.

Dean shoved his hands into his pockets, following Dempsey, falling into step beside him easily. He wasn't sure if Don Juan had a destination in mind or just wanted to escape the house, but at least it was a little easier to breathe out here. The cold air felt good in his lungs and Dean sucked in a few deep breaths, waiting for Don Juan to start whatever he wanted to say. He gave it a good distance from the house, assuming anybody else would be crazy to be out here this time of night, but he had met the bulk of the Dempsey clan at one point or another, nothing was really impossible. The silence stretched out and the farther they got, the less sure he was of how to break it. All he could do was sneak glances at Don Juan out of the corner of his eye and wait him out.