Cas was tempted to say something about how Sheehan couldn't help them at all but he knew, if he was serious about getting help, that wasn't gonna help.
Cas went for the easy chair, making a stab at a casual attitude but missing the mark. He subbed his palms on his pants, feeling sweat run down his palms. He was desperate. He was there because his best efforts were getting no one anywhere. He wanted to be anywhere else but he cleared his throat, made himself speak.
"Need... something else," he said. "I don't think I can do this on my own."