He gets needing others. Sam and Bobby. Ellen and Jo. But Castiel's expression of desperation is looking less like a simple desire and more like a suggestion that Dean doesn't quite make the cut. He doesn't fit the mold. To someone with a low an opinion of himself as Dean Winchester, the look on Castiel's face is like a neon sign saying You're not good enough.

"Really."

Arms folded across his chest, brow furrowed, Dean stares at him. He doesn't understand any better than Cas (probably worse, actually, which is pretty pathetic), and the idea that the event is screwing with emotions has yet to cross his mind.

"Planning on branchin' out, huh?"