[ It's as obvious a trap as ever, still a bid to escape, except now Castiel's life is on the line. He watches Dean, and Dean's smugness at knowing he's been caught. Let Dean help him and risk being killed or refuse and risk dying.

God, help him.

Castiel drops his eyes to Dean's leg, and he doesn't respond. He doesn't get out his knife and cut Dean's hands free, though. He retrieves the tweezers and the first-aid kit, rips open one alcohol packet and then another and wipes the tweezers and Dean's thigh free of blood again. ]

I feel it's important to remind you that the decision to retrieve you wasn't mine. I'm something of... a bee from a hive. If you do decide to kill me, more will follow. There is nowhere you'll be able to hide. If you decide to keep running and killing those who find you, you'll be standing atop a mountain of corpses before long.

[ He holds the tweezers above Dean's thigh but pauses to look up at him, to gauge by Dean's expression how comfortable he is with the idea. Obviously Dean carries a gun and the knowledge of treating bullet wounds along with a very long criminal record. He's not unfamiliar with killing, but perhaps not on the scale Castiel is implying. ]