When Molly spoke, Dean heard and saw her sobbing in a corner. Harry had nodded, though.
So all of that...
Dean made a noise like the wind was going out of him, but smiled, very, very slightly. He could guess what Harry'd seen. Probably not all of it, since he really didn't know about soulgazes, but enough. Harry was never going to give him a hard time again, or ever give the impression that Dean didn't know what he was talking about. This hadn't been fun, but really, Dean could live with that.
He'd lived with worse. Which he was pretty sure Harry was still processing.
Molly was glaring at him. He refused to look at her. He wasn't doing this twice. He set his jaw, though, and glared in the general direction of his boots. "Sweetheart, give it a fucking rest. I'm a dick? Y'know how much warning I ever got about this? And how vague it was? Sorry. You don't get to play that card." He shook his head. "Is being this superior a wizard thing?"
Dean sighed. He put the glass on the table, and considering what Molly'd just said, very slowly raised his eyes to Harry. "I didn't mean for that to happen." It was apologetic, and the only apology Harry was going to get. Dean was not ever going to be sorry for the contents of his soul, and Harry had pushed him. "Thinking I should probably get outta here."
He'd seen the way Harry reacted to Jo's voice. He could guess a lot of things, here. Those things were enough to make him bite the inside of his cheek. "Last thing I wanted was to hand out nightmares."