Dean's definitely not expecting the evaluation, he shifts uncomfortably under her gaze. He's used to people not believing he was really her son because of how young she was when she died. That's the last thing he thinks about. Instead he sets his elbows on his legs and sits up straighter.

"Yeah, she washed my hair," he doesn't really remember any of it though. "She used to bathe me every night, comes with the territory."

He reaches up and scrubs a hand down his face. The sun is higher in the sky now casting golden strips of sunlight over Syrena's skin. It's nice and he takes the sight in for half a second before glancing back toward the Port.

"Cas is like a brother to me," Dean looks back at her with a grin. "Yeah, everyone around me's just walkin' on sunshine." It's not clear he's being sarcastic but he is. Sometimes it felt like the only bad company they kept was him and Sam but then he remembered how messed up they all were. Like some backwards Brady Bunch shoved together in Canada for some freak social experiment.