Hell, Dean'd wag his tail for days if it'd get him his brother back.

Or, you know, sell his goddamn soul.

He manages to keep his expression pretty even, though.

And the taste of bile is in the back of his throat again.

"You'll bring him back?"

Hope is cruel, but it's a clean kind of pain. As clean as this shit can be, anyway.

And then Sam'll be okay.

It's the only thing that matters.