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?
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.
Dean: Why did I say that, I didn’t mean to say that. Your hair looks stupid.
Dean: Hey, bitch, get your ass over here!
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.