No, no nothing in hell is okay and he has a feeling that that will be a constant no matter which world people come from. However. HOWEVER.
"Do you really think that excuses any of it though?" He asks, still carefully keeping himself as gentle as possible. Mostly at this point because he wants to flip the damn table and he has a feeling that won't go down too well or be understood as to why. "He's your brother. Hell dimension and hellgod, or not."
Okay, so maybe he's about to start a rant. Batten down. The hatches. This built up aggression has go to go somewhere. "I mean, what the hell? Even in hell. Especially in hell. He's a hellgod? Why the hell is he tossing you to demons instead of making sure you're above them? You know, next to him? Where you should be because you're his brother? And not with an insignificant amout of power, by the sounds of things so even if he doesn't like you he could at least be making you useful. No, fuck that." He twists the cap off his beer. That thing's not a screw top, and he didn't use his ring to do it. "He's supposed to look the hell after you and make sure you're ok, not using you for twisted games like-" He can't quite bring himself to say the words. That's okay, hopefully you know what he means, because he's still in full swing regardless. "And. And he fucks with your food. I know I said I was gonna? But no. I wasn't. Because screw that. I never let Sam go hungry when I was bringing him up and like hell I am letting anyone else go hungry that I'm keeping an eye on while I can do anything about it. Family is the most important thing you're supposed to have. If he's a goddamned deity, then that goes fucking doubly so. Not having you sit here tell me any of this is acceptable just because 'Hell's not okay'. It might not be your hell, but I've seen it, done it and got the goddamned T-shirt and I did it for my brother. You're not going to convince me that literally anything about this is passable just because you're from hell. That's bullshit."
He's just gonna drain the god damned beer, and put the empty on the table. "Just so you know? If he ends up here? You get to him before me or there'll be nothing left to apologise to you for what he's done. I've killed more gods than you've got fingers, kid, and I'm damn resourceful. I'll find a way."
The waitress who's been stood meekly to the side from about halfway through the rant just quietly puts the food on the edge of the table and scurries away. Dean doesn't notice.
...He has some feeling on this.
"Do you really think that excuses any of it though?" He asks, still carefully keeping himself as gentle as possible. Mostly at this point because he wants to flip the damn table and he has a feeling that won't go down too well or be understood as to why. "He's your brother. Hell dimension and hellgod, or not."
Okay, so maybe he's about to start a rant. Batten down. The hatches. This built up aggression has go to go somewhere. "I mean, what the hell? Even in hell. Especially in hell. He's a hellgod? Why the hell is he tossing you to demons instead of making sure you're above them? You know, next to him? Where you should be because you're his brother? And not with an insignificant amout of power, by the sounds of things so even if he doesn't like you he could at least be making you useful. No, fuck that." He twists the cap off his beer. That thing's not a screw top, and he didn't use his ring to do it. "He's supposed to look the hell after you and make sure you're ok, not using you for twisted games like-" He can't quite bring himself to say the words. That's okay, hopefully you know what he means, because he's still in full swing regardless. "And. And he fucks with your food. I know I said I was gonna? But no. I wasn't. Because screw that. I never let Sam go hungry when I was bringing him up and like hell I am letting anyone else go hungry that I'm keeping an eye on while I can do anything about it. Family is the most important thing you're supposed to have. If he's a goddamned deity, then that goes fucking doubly so. Not having you sit here tell me any of this is acceptable just because 'Hell's not okay'. It might not be your hell, but I've seen it, done it and got the goddamned T-shirt and I did it for my brother. You're not going to convince me that literally anything about this is passable just because you're from hell. That's bullshit."
He's just gonna drain the god damned beer, and put the empty on the table. "Just so you know? If he ends up here? You get to him before me or there'll be nothing left to apologise to you for what he's done. I've killed more gods than you've got fingers, kid, and I'm damn resourceful. I'll find a way."
The waitress who's been stood meekly to the side from about halfway through the rant just quietly puts the food on the edge of the table and scurries away. Dean doesn't notice.