“I can help,” Cas murmurs into Dean’s shoulder, trembling fingers buried deep within the creases of the hunter’s jacket. “Just – let me stay with you?”
It’s a question Dean’s surprised the guy has to ask.
“Come on Cas,” he breathes out, hauling the hysteric man to his feet before brushing off some of the muddy grass with the backs of his fingers.
“I can help,” Cas repeats, determined as Dean escorts him to the car and lifts him into the Impala. “I’m not useless, Dean – I can help.”
“I know, Cas,” the hunter sighs, “I believe you.”