[ takes one careful bite and then another. Watches as the tension bleeds out of his shoulders and the color comes back into his cheeks, and Dean doesn’t feel nothing, no. The sandwich tastes like chalk dust in his mouth, but he feels satisfied.]

I love this.

[“This wasn’t destined, Dean,” ... “Heaven had no hand in this."]

and this.

Actually I love the whole thing. Dean's weariness and the guys wanting to make it easier for him and Cas just wanting.