Aidan/Dean
Dean couldn't help but let out a small snicker at the pun, horrible or otherrwise. "Right," he said, shaking his head. At least it lightened the mood considerably. He hadn't hurt Gretel, after all. She'd been the one to offer her blood. He hadn't begged her for it. And he hadn't presented the signs of being anything like the vampires that Dean was used to. He decided at that moment to give Aidan the benefit of the doubt. If Gretel felt she could trust him enough to not hurt her after she'd given him her blood, Dean was going to do the same.
"Not much to tell," he told the man. "I'm Dean. I think we talked on the network thing," he went on. "You're the one that's been to hell or purgatory or whatever, right?" Which now made a lot more sense. "What do you wanna know?"
His eyes flicked briefly to the man before turning back down the hallway. One of the statues had moved closer and he glared at it. "Looks like we got a visitor," he muttered. "Those fuckers are fast."