[ Literally killing people for the privilege of a shower isn't the way to salvation, in Castiel's opinion. But then Dean is also apparently the one chosen by God, so what the fuck does he know.

Dean is right, though— or almost right. If he were alone, killing everyone might be his only escape. No one is coming for him, and even if one of his wayward family members were to try, they would have no idea where to look, and only a labyrinth of buried clues to follow. He isn't alone, though. No one is coming, because the only one coming for him is already here. ]

I need you to heal, and to stay alive in the best condition you're able to manage. Cooperation with my family would be optimal, but I won't get my hopes up.

[ Castiel tilts his head to look at Dean's lap and what's become of the injury to Dean's leg, but all he can make out is denim blackened with dried blood. ]

How bad are your injuries? Can you still feel your toes on that leg?