Noah's almost glad for the interruption. How is he supposed to answer that question? Yeah, Dean and I go way back. He thinks I should move on to the actual afterlife, which, by the way, is nothing, and he has a sword that can do it to me. So I brought him some pot.

It doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

Of course, when he peeks over Derek's shoulder and sees Dean propped up in a chair, wrapped in a thick blanket, looking about as tough as a leaf the wind could pick up and blow away, he realizes he probably has nothing to worry about at the moment.

He gives a shy, scrunchy wave.