Brows furrowed, Dean took a minute to look at Don Juan, to really look at him. He blew out a long breath, running another hand through his hair and down the back of his neck, pressing his fingers into the muscles of his shoulder. Reeling in his own thoughts and feelings on the matter, he pushed them aside for the moment. He could sort them in his own time, now that everything was out in the open. "You really think that?" It's not like Don Juan would be raising her on his own. Like he'd said, his mother would be involved, and he had a boatload of siblings, all of whom still lived at the house in Galway. It wasn't like it would be a solo venture. There would be people to support him, even beyond just Dean.