Dean huffed out a breath and leaned back, standing painfully after realizing his lip was bleeding again. He pressed a finger against it and it came back red. Not surprising, considering he'd barely gotten it to stop earlier and he hadn't anticipated talking this much tonight. He pressed the back of his bandaged hand against the cut, using the pain of the pressure to keep him focused as he looked for something else to use.

They'd had this conversation before too and still didn't agree. Bad decisions did not automatically make someone a bad person. He listened, shaking this head as Don Juan curled into himself. The feeling was back, stabbing at him just beneath the surface. He knew there was going to be no way for either one of them to make the other understand where they were coming from. Dean just hoped it didn't become a larger problem down the road.

He finally found an old handkerchief and used that in his lip instead, moving back to the bed to sit on the side, giving some space between them. "It's different because I know you," he managed, pulling the cloth away, throat a little tight as he slowly pieced together more of the situation. He hadn't assumed this other man was also high at the time, but apparently that was the case. It didn't change his conviction though. "You didn't intentionally hurt people when you were high and leave them traumatized." Dean was sure about that; bad choices and whatever other decisions that lead to now were still not cause enough in his mind.

"You do have me, and I have a higher opinion of you than you do yourself. So I'm going to sit up with you when you can't sleep, and hold your hands until they stop shaking and eventually, hopefully, it won't be so visceral. All I have is this you and what you deserve now is someone who will be here, flaws, bad decisions and all." Of that, he was also thoroughly convinced.