"'ur my f'en'," Cas said as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world. His voice was a little scratchy, and there were a couple of purplish splotches around his eyes and the bridge of his nose where capillaries had ruptured.

"Def's 'ice," he added helpfully (and a bit sleepily,) his head resting trustingly on Dean's shoulder. "Us 'ent into da s'iny bildin' wif da sk'ishy t'in's an' peng'ins." He yawned, and settled comfortably against his friend's familiar leather jacket, drowsing.