[ there's a glare, poisonous and without hesitation cast cas' way. one hand comes to curls around cas' arm, the one pinning down harder on his neck. he can't draw breath as easily now, lips parted slightly as he gasps again. such a reverse from seconds earlier, yet dean's anger is shifting into something else, something equally dangerous but less apparent.

it's turning, directing itself back at himself rather than cas. ]

You don't think I know I was the one who drove Sam into saying yes? [ he does, he does, and he hates himself for it. ]

I don't need a fucking reminder-- I don't need you rubbing it in my face.

[ because every time he does, it breaks something further in him, something dean has no idea how to begin fixing. ]