He'd known that would come, even before he figured out who Ellen was. Hunters had to hunt, fish had to swim, birds had to fly. And he didn't doubt how competent she might be, since Dean knew, now, EXACTLY who'd trained her, who'd told her what was what. If she'd been raised by him, and Jo, and Sam, and Bobby... shit, Ellen probably knew things Dean hadn't even thought of yet.
But that didn't change that it was putting his family in danger. Again. So with his eyebrows drawn together, he nodded.
... you can't do this alone.
"Wait, what?" Dean blinked. "Cas told you that?"
Ohhh. He was gonna get it. That was a bullshit thing to do, to lay on someone. Angels really had to stop putting things so badly when they were trying to get their points across. Goddamn it.
You can't tell her.
Dean scowled. He didn't actually mean to. Then there was a very, very slight smile.
He'd begged Bobby not to tell Sam what he'd done, that he'd made a deal to bring Sam back to life. He'd had no right to ask such a thing, and it didn't occur to him at the time what he was actually asking.
With a tight-lipped smile, and a sense that, in the coming years, he'd often get exactly what he deserved--hear things from Ellen's mouth that he'd said himself, watch things happen that he'd done himself--and understand what a fucking fool he was, Dean tilted his head up toward the barn roof, which had a few holes in it, and said "Oh, you're good."
He shook his head. "That's awesome. Honey, I can't promise you that," he said. "That's... a hell of thing to carry."
He rubbed at the hair on the back of his head, just above his neck. He'd have to play to his strengths, here.
"You're here for a reason, and you tell me that it's because Jo and I can't do something by ourselves... but I can't tell the people who could help us figure out why that is and make this go easier?"
He waited a beat, eyebrows raising. "What is it we couldn't do? Why?"