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“So… Are we gonna talk about it?”
Dean’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Talk about what, Sam?”
Sam’s gaze was unwavering. “You. Your interest in Jesse and Cesar… settling down with a hunter. Cas.”
There it was. That tell-tale clench of Dean’s jaw when confronted with something that scared the shit out of him. He was silent for a long time, letting the words swirl around his head and drop into a coherent form like pieces on a Scrabble board. “There’s nothing to talk about.” His voice was calm - almost eerily so.
“Dean–”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Sammy,” he finally turned to look at his brother, his eyes glassy and brimming with unspilled tears. “‘Cause you already know the answer.”
Sam’s lips pursed and his brow furrowed as he nodded silently. He offered his trademark tight-lipped Sam Winchester half smile, the one that always put the dimple in his right cheek on display, the one that always seemed to convey his concern and always-optimistic outlook that everything would be okay. Because it had to. Especially now. If anyone deserves a happy ending with the person they loved, it was Dean. And he hoped beyond all hope that Dean could see now that it was possible.
He silently thanked whatever cosmic power went Jesse and Cesar into their path - not only for the case at hand, but for Dean.