[ Dean knows he's being an ornery, cantankerous bastard, but he's so full of rage and anger and frustration, he's having trouble containing himself. It's either draw on the fury or cry, and he will not cry. ]

I didn't fling actual shit. [ Dean counters, a smile tugging at his lips because listening to Mister Holier Than Thou say 'shit' is pretty damn funny. ] I didn't want their food that was probably drugged - [ because let's be real, it probably was, ] I didn't ask to be here, didn't ask to be shot. So, forgive me if I'm kinda mad about it. And you don't have to do what you're doing.

[ Dean doesn't yank his hands away, but he does tip his head and give Castiel a curious look, because it isn't necessary, Cas could easily leave the bucket down here and Dean could just stick his head in drown himself in petty, righteous rage.

...Ah, come to think of it...that's probably why Castiel hasn't left him alone. ]