[Sam flinches back into awareness. He blinks up at Dean with clearer eyes, and reaches up without really realizing it, patting Dean's hand once, twice, three times where it squeezes his shoulder — an old gesture they'd used sometimes in hunting to say I'm okay, I'll live, carry on; usually something after one of 'em gets their heads knocked into something or claws disentangled from their clothes.

And sure, he doesn't believe his brother's words for even a moment, but... there's no point in smothering him in all of the shit going on in his head, not anymore than he probably already is. He sits up straighter instead, running a hand through his hair. His hand, controlled by him. Nobody else. That's a good thing. Gotta start zeroing in on the good things.

(Or you just go crazy.)]

... Yeah, well... We've all made mistakes, right? Some... more than others. [Sam would like to crown himself the king of mistakes. The Number One Fuck-Up. Pry it from his cold, dead fingers, big brother.] Cas got to make his like the rest of us.

[Not the mistake of being brain-washed, obviously, but he knows what actually is eating Dean about it now, five years after the fact. So he shrugs, attempts a smile.]

New beginnings, right? Uh. Fresh start.

Here in... Horrortown, USA?

[Maybe he doesn't necessarily believe it for himself, because his rap sheet is just so fucking long it probably circles the planet, but... this is all good, even when it's bad. Better than their world. Dean and Cas get a house with all the nice fixings, and there's a real working town with stores, things to do, new faces...

Even with the bullshit, it's. It's good. He's gotta remember that.]