[Dean can feel the weight of Lydia's hand there as clearly as he doesn't really feel the squeeze; he's listening to her voice, to the rhythm of her words, letting them wash against him like the leftover waves at the edge of a lake. Not enough to move him but undeniable, unstoppable, and he doesn't try.
He shakes his head, just once, and breathes out.]
You shouldn't. [Care. Believe in. Want to help. But this isn't harsh, as he's been in the past; there isn't even really any expectation that she'll listen. It's not a warning. Just two words, just one fact, set out in the air between them to take or to leave, like something he's not coming back for. No one should. They do, but no one should.
He breathes in, deep and bracing, one hand reaching up to clumsily, heavily pat hers where she's got hold of him; then he lowers his hands to the bench to begin pushing himself up.]
But yeah. Yeah. I think I need...
I think I need to. Uh. Sleep, or. [Sleep won't happen, even like this, he knows that; he hasn't hit that wall yet, needs another small push, so.] Drink or. Something. Think I should go.
[ Spam ]
He shakes his head, just once, and breathes out.]
You shouldn't. [Care. Believe in. Want to help. But this isn't harsh, as he's been in the past; there isn't even really any expectation that she'll listen. It's not a warning. Just two words, just one fact, set out in the air between them to take or to leave, like something he's not coming back for. No one should. They do, but no one should.
He breathes in, deep and bracing, one hand reaching up to clumsily, heavily pat hers where she's got hold of him; then he lowers his hands to the bench to begin pushing himself up.]
But yeah. Yeah. I think I need...
I think I need to. Uh. Sleep, or. [Sleep won't happen, even like this, he knows that; he hasn't hit that wall yet, needs another small push, so.] Drink or. Something. Think I should go.