( His lips press into an unhappy line, and he shoots a look between Cas and Sam — clearly less than stoked about something. Shutting and locking the door is a good excuse to break eye contact and stall for a tragically short second.

He huffs out a sound. )

He tried. We did the whole... sit down and join hands, Kumbaya thing. I just couldn't-

( Be alone with his own thoughts for more than five minutes without the PTSD kicking in. )

I shot blanks. Couldn't do it. So. Apparently you're the guru.

( And hell, maybe having Cas there will help. Some weird... subconscious thing, since he spent all that time in Purgatory hunting the bastard down. Maybe it'll lessen the impulse to keep memory-searching or something.

What the hell does he know about psychology? Jack squat, is what. )