Cas: I think that we—

Sam: Time to destroy this thing.

Dean: Where’s the salt?

Dean: Why should I care, Cas is a grown angel he can take care of—

Sam: Do I need to go get the hat?

Dean: No.

Sam: That’s not even a difficult choice.

Sam: Not rea—

Sam: Yes. I’m definitely less sure about—

Sam: I thought you said we should get rid of this hat?

Dean: I figured it might come in handy.

Dean: Uh, you know… he’s like family… and he’s useful—

Dean: I care about him as deeply as I do any of my family and I don’t function right without him— dammit, Sam!!

Dean: …we’re definitely getting rid of this thing!

Dean: Huh, what’s the old men keeping a hat locked up for…

Dean: Sam, look, cool huh?

Sam: I’m not sure you should be playing around with the stuff we find here… You never know why the Men of Letters kept is around.

Dean: C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen. If Jessica hadn’t died I’d totally have seduced her.

Sam: …what.

Dean: Why did I say that, I didn’t mean to say that. Your hair looks stupid.

Meg: Fleshy.

Ruby: Meaty.

Crazy!Cas: Constricting.

Dean: Hey, bitch, get your ass over here!

Sam: What?

Dean: Happy Birthday!

Sam: What the hell is this?

Sam: God, Dean, you’re such a jerk!

Ruby: Nah, not really…

Meg: It’s not about colour, it’s about what you do with it.