[ Not human. It's up there, but not the weirdest thing he’s heard in the last twenty-four hours. After waking up in some kind of alternate dimension, there isn't a whole lot that could shock him. His eyes drift toward the van, now back on semi-solid ground, smeared in mud but intact, and he exhales like he’s letting go of a held breath he didn’t know he was holding. The tension in his jaw starts to loosen just a little. ]

Woke up in a med tent in a world I’ve never seen before with busted ribs I don’t remember earning and now I got trench coat Jesus draggin’ my van out of a ditch with his bare hands. Totally normal day.

[ He scoffs out a laugh at the absurdity of it all, then rubs his face again, half in disbelief and half in exhaustion. The adrenaline’s fading now, leaving behind a hollow kind of ache in his ribs and a sharp reminder that he hasn’t eaten since he got here. His stomach turns, but he ignores it. He watches Castiel watching the van, calm and still like this is just a Tuesday for him. Jesse doesn’t know what to do with that kind of peace, so he defaults to sarcasm, the closest thing he has to armor. But the humor fades fast. Jesse scratches the back of his neck and shifts on his feet. ]

Seriously, though...I uh, I owe you one... [ He furrows his brows when he realizes he doesn't know the guy's name. ] What's your name, man? I'm Jesse. [ He offers a tattooed hand in greeting, which Castiel can shake or not, glancing down the road as the other guy asks about the city. ]

Yeah. Heard about it from some dude back at the scrapyard. Panorama. Look, I know you got your own wheels you probably don't wanna leave behind, but maybe we could like...caravan it? Y'know...follow? I mean. Safety in numbers, right?