She listens, just that, letting him talk and purge, nodding and making soft noises when appropriate. It's a harder life than she's had, even with her parents gone, even with her uncle gone and her auntie going on more and more hunts before dying herself.

Merlan listens and asks no questions, save perhaps about Men of Letters and angels. When he's done, she tells him of her own life, and about the angel Micah, how he taught her as much about angels as she did about humanity, how they changed each other, and how he must have died in the Fall in her universe. Being an angel now eases some of the loss but it's still a loss of a best friend.

Or whatever they were.

Pieces of each other at the end.

But her expression is one of understanding, of getting it and knowing as much about hunting and lore as maybe Sam's Bobby - getting close at least. She'd been high tech, they'd been low tech, she'd been rich, they'd been scraping by but she gets it. The pains and agonies, they joys. The hunting, but not Heaven or Hell. She understands and she places a hand over Sam's and just squeezes once before taking a drink of her own beer.

"Lotta shit, but also sounds like you've done an amazing amount of good," she finally says. "Hard to let go of mistakes but the good outweighs the bad from where I'm sitting, Sam."