She didn't say anything at first, though she'd heard his graveled reassurance loud and clear. Dean said it with confidence she wanted to trust- desperately- but the same could be said for pretty much every conversation the pair of them had. He had a cool head when the pressure was on- like Sam did, like Hansel did, like she did when Hansel didn't.
That was the problem with being cripplingly co-dependent. Hansel was her cornerstone and she was his. She imagined, wherever he was, he was giving Hotel fucking hell. That was the thought that actually got her to speak, albeit through a sigh.
"I hope you're right." For their sakes- that was implied.