"Jesus," Dean mutters, but he comes forward, staring first at what may very well be a mad man, and then down the length of the hole. It's green down there past the funnel of dirt, the light warmer than the city outside Kisuke's window, and hell if it doesn't smell like spring.

"Okay," Dean exhales, and thinks Kisuke's not the only crazy man in the room after all. "After you."