Dean turns his head to look at him, whatever smart remarks he might have made quelled by the quiet look on Derek's face. Dean doesn't exactly talk about this stuff either, not even with the people he scenes with, but he feels something in his chest loosen.

"I never did 'til here," he admits. "For all the fucked up shit that happens here, most of the time it's quiet. There's too much room to think." And too damn much to dwell on.

"So what do you do?" Dean finds himself asking. "When you're after 'the other thing'?"