Dean couldn't take it any more. He was sick of the whole damn mess sick of hearing Sam's screams, sick of the furtive little glances Bobby and Cas kept shooting at him, sick of feeling helpless and scared and lost.
Finally, after Bobby asked him if he was OK for the fifth time in as many minutes, Dean snapped, slamming his beer down onto the counter.
"I'm fine, goddammit! Stop asking if I'm freaking OK, I'm OK!"
The silence that followed this outburst was somehow even worse than the unspoken tension which had filled the room before. Bobby stared back at him reproachfully, and Dean immediately regretted his words but he was damned if