"Whoa, whoa--"

No, he can do this. He can shove it all down, push it all back and deal with it later, because his freaking out is freaking Cas out and he's not gonna do that to the angel right now. Dean swallows, even though it isn't necessary, and draws back, curling his hands in the lapels of Castiel's jacket, smoothing over them.

"Cas, relax. Slow down," he tries for soothing, voice low and a little more rough than he'd like. "It's fine. I'm out. We're good. Now we just gotta find Sammy and we're all good, business as normal, ish, yeah?"