Dean tilted his head to the side as Sam explained the situation with the supposed vampire victims, furrowing his brow.  Although he wasn’t ready to get back into hunting full time, he was intrigued by the case, to say the least, “Well did the victims have their throats ripped out or were they just torn to shreds beforehand?  I mean, if they’re getting up and walking off, that sounds like something straight out of a Bram Stoker book.”

He waved off his brother’s last words, turning his gaze to Lexi, “If you guys are going out tonight, you can come by the armory and grab some stuff.  It’s probably better for you to prepare for everything, and hope it’s nothing, you know?”

It was almost as if he was politely asking Lexi to please take the entire armory with her, so that she would come back in one piece.  He knew Sam’s hunting style, and that Sam would be fine, even if he came back a little beat up and tired.  

“There’s also plenty of stuff in the trunk, that I’m not using.  Feel free to take any of it.”, he muttered, taking a last bite of his pie, before he stood up from the table and walked his plate over to the sink, rubbing his stomach.  He stared over at a bottle of whiskey for a moment, thinking about taking it.  He shook the thought out of his head, and turned back to the table, “Now I just gotta decide if I want to go back to my room and take a nap to sleep off some of this food, or if there’s anything I can do around the bunker.  Being off grid and drunk for a while has created a bit of a time loop.  I figure you’re both pretty sick of my mopey ass being around…”