Dean reached into the friend and threw a water bottle at Sam. Closing the fridge door. Before opening it again and pulling stuff out for a sandwhich. He'd actually almost forgotten that he'd wanted to make some food. Him. He'd forgotten food. This was ... ridiculous. Buffy was just some person. Some chick. A really hot chick that was fucking sexy when she was in bitch mode and mostly understood the being dead thing and the younger sibling thing and was quirky and she -- She was just some woman. And it was fine.
"Yeah, Bobby's great." Dean said. And despite the slight distracted tone in his voice. And the fact that he could have come up with something better than great. It was obvious that he meant it nonetheless. Sam knew how wary he had been about taking people on hunts. He wouldn't have been at all surprised if everyone else had managed to gues sit. He hadn't been comfortable with the idea. With the responsibilty. With this they could add their expertise, if needed, but didn't have to worry about not giving people all the necessary information snatched up from a couple of hunts. Because Bobby is right. If they couldn't learn it from him, they wouldn't learn it at all. "I'm kinda lookin' forward to seeing a Solo in action up close and personal." The was a slight smile to Dean's lips. The only thing cooler would be if Bruce Wayne was here. Him. Training Bruce Wayne. Man. That would have been epic in so many ways.
At Sam's question, Dean looked back at his brother. "Yeah. I'm fine." It was on the tip on his tongue to say, 'why're you asking?' But to be honest. He really didn't want to know. Though he knew if Sam thought that he wasn't doing okay, he would state the reasoning behind the question anyway. Sam might not have pushed as much as he used to but there were still moments he insisted in getting Dean to talk about things he would rather keep bottled up.