[ The look lingers, because Sam's done this his whole life, hanging around people that don't acknowledge their own weakness until it's too late. Castiel's made of much stronger stuff than either of them, but he's not wrong: Dean is who they're here for, and that urgency is kicking up again. ]

Yeah, he just took off without a word. [ Sighing a bit in relief, Sam puts his game face back on and edges in front of the angel, what traffic there is inside the bar parting before Sam's imposing figure. ] I don't have a problem with talking to Dean alone, but he's really in a funk. He's not going to ask for any help, so we gotta give it to him, you know?