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It’s a collection of photographs, very National Geographic. But Dean’s never seen stars like this before, not even on the clearest nights, when he and Sam lean against the hood of the Impala, 600 miles from anywhere, the air filled with the sound of crickets. Those are nothing compared to this. Sure, he went to middle school, he understands that stars are really just giant balls of gas floating up in space. He’s known that for years. But these aren’t just stars.

