Dean's eyebrow hitched up. "That's.... oddly reassuring," he said.
2049. That meant that this shit, whatever it was, didn't end the world. It meant that things went on. It also meant, though, that there was still a need for hunters. It meant that all the shit continued.
It meant someone had to raise Ellen to do this. Dean didn't like thinking about that. She was a pretty girl, she should've done pretty girl things, like--
He stopped. He remembered trying that on Jo. It hadn't worked. If she was half as determined as Jo had been, maybe this was a choice.
"So your lost car, does it fly?"
.... until after coffee and cholesterol?
Dean straightened his shoulders and set his jaw. He opened the door to the restaurant for her and held it. His eyes changed, the look a little more detached than it had been. When she started past him, he asked one more thing, made sure he looked her in the eye when he said it.
"You heard of me and Sam," he said. "He's... WAY before your time, but what about John Winchester?" He let the name settle, just in case. "Because let me tell ya," Dean said, shaking his head, "it is EERIE how well you two would've gotten along."