[Dean waits while Stiles hesitates, expectant and dismissive in the way of someone accustomed to leading absolutely. He'd liked the kid well enough, for whatever that was worth; he's learned it isn't much in the long run, and all it would have eventually meant us Dean would have tried to make his death quick if it came to that.

But it's come to this, and now Dean knows this kid with the nightmares and the ADD has a file with everything he's ever done in it, and all he had to do was open the folder. The hunter doesn't know for sure what all is in there, of course, or generally speaking if this is all some elaborate trick or hoop, but he knows by now to expect the worst. That's all his luck is good for anyway.]

I'll tell you like I told Kennedy: I'll make this real easy on you. Stay outta my face, I'll stay outta yours until one of us gets the boot. We're not friends. I don't need to sit there and drink with you while you tell me what a horrible fuckup I am, and all the shit I did wrong.

We can handle that just like this, if you're hellbent on it, but you should go in knowing I'm not interested.