Fake it till you make it? For Dean I think it's more of a crutch than anything else. He might avoid talking to Sam about some stuff, but to the world, he'll lie. He's just bringing that closer to home, and what he's lying about isn't going to get worked through or resolved.

Frank didn't tell him to drink less, or to confide in a loved one, after all.

I do think it's brilliant that he can connect with kids still (hell, even the potential victim in the psychic town) on a very sincere level, but it's just nothing he can sustain, or nothing he can do with someone who knows so much more about what's hurting him.

I just read a stupid, florid fic (the sort where they don't just say his eyes are sapphire. but that they're sapphires), that placed Dean's palm-scar on his forearm. Some love letter to....whatever bullshit. Better you leave it out than put it somewhere wrong.

Wait, what? Sam has the palm scar, not Dean.

And yeah, I think Dean is actually trying to fake it, for now, especially in light of Sam saying he just wants to work. It has to be surprising that Sam doesn't even want to talk, or at least not yet. But as always, I think Sam is working through Bobby's death better than Dean is.

It really hit me, there at the end, how alone they are now. No Bobby, no Cas, not even Rufus or Ellen or anyone they know and trust. BOYS.

The scar of a palm. Not the scar on his palm. The handprint.

They're pretty much alone together too. Sam wants to tell other people Bobby's dead, Dean doesn't want to talk to them because they're nobody to him, but it's not like he's talking to the one not nobody he's got left.

Oh, gotcha. Sorry. I always think of it as the handprint.

I can't believe they haven't told the sheriff, honestly. Poor Sheriff Mills.

I can't believe they haven't told the sheriff, honestly. Poor Sheriff Mills.

GAH. Yes. Ouch.

I always think of it as the handprint.

You probably also always think of it as on his shoulder, which is one reason I needed to reread the text (when I should just have been calling it a day and moving onto well-written pastures) a number of times to work out what scar.

Dean has two (despite the constant forearm-cutting--what if a mental health professional ever saw those and thought he was a cutter?) scars. The one on his chin, and the one on his shoulder.

Ack! Jodi! I was thinking about her last night and now forgot.

Boys.

It *is* on his shoulder! Who moves it to his arm? Stupid people shouldn't write fic.

I remember reading somewhere that Jensen denied having a scar on his chin, but it's *right there*. Whatever. I love it.

I mean, look at Frank now.

That was my thought when Frank was giving the advice. This is where that road leads, do you actually want to go there? OTOH, where else is he gonna go, he probably doesn't see a lot of options.

Oh, god, I hadn't thought about Sheriff Mills.

it's *right there*. Whatever. I love it.

I spend way too much time staring at it, considering the rest of his face.

OTOH, where else is he gonna go, he probably doesn't see a lot of options.

At least it's something to do, and it doesn't involve honesty.

I like that he stated his reasons for not checking out are onefold. Samfold. I love you, man.

I'm now cranking The Who to get rid of the "Dear Mr. Fantasy" earworm (I still love you, little Stevie Winwood!).

Not that "The Song Is Over" is a particularly upbeat way to change songs.