It's not hard to remember what he said - he can remember everything with near perfect detail these days. Dean doesn't want to, though, because it wasn't a good memory. The last time they'd talked had been a mess, and he'd rather leave that whole set of memories alone, so he shoves that back, and grimaces a little.

Cas is up in his personal space but Dean doesn't step back; it's normal, hell, it's more normal than anything else, to be honest. Dean smooths his hand down the front of Castiel's jacket, tugging with a crooked smile. "Dunno why you'd wanna dredge that up. Shit memories, Cas." Because he'd done everything but bare his soul at the angel, and it'd done nothing. Cas left, and Sam was gone soon after and the sting of it still ached years later.