[Dean is sitting at the bar of one of the dive bars in the Underground. It's greasy, dirty and just beat up enough to make him feel at home. He's got a glass of whiskey in front of him that he's actually sipping at this time. He looks rough though, unshaven and like he hasn't slept in a week. He's been trying, honestly, but with Sam gone his
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As long as it meant finding a way to not think about what he was, Clary, home, Clary, his family, Clary, his death, Clary...then he was good with it.
So he sits down next to the guy who looks like hell and points his thumb at him.]
I'll have what he's having.
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School gettin' a little rough?
[It's not as sarcastic and demeaning as it would be from someone else because there's a trace of something in Dean's voice that says he knows how much life can suck even when you're still a kid.]
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I don't go to school.
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Who?
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