Derek inclines his head in a silent apology for misunderstanding, and then looks up to give him a cocky smirk. "We heal almost instantly from most injuries. You'll forgive me for not giving you more details than that, I'm sure."

Dean may be an alright guy, but he's still a hunter. "Silver bullets, though? That's bullshit."

As for his strength, well. Derek has always been a fan of showing off. He looks around, since it would be a bad idea to punch through a wall, and takes a few steps over to a car parked on the curb. He grabs the front bumper with one hand, lifts it a few inches off of the ground, and sets it back down lightly.

"Pretty strong," he says when he comes back over. "But I'm good at controlling it. Haven't accidentally broken anything since I was a kid. It's just kind of like, I don't know. An extra muscle that I only flex when I need it."