"We'll get t-shirts," Dean answered lightly, though it was hard to really get the humour into his tone. He wouldn't quite be able to joke around for a couple more hours at least.
Dean was still bitter about being left to die in Purgatory, especially considering Castiel had forced him to leave alone, with just his poor vampire friend hitching a ride in his arm, but he had told himself not to push it anymore. He didn't have the right to. Sam had been distraught, frightened, and he ran. It was typical Sam. After all, Sam's flight part of his fight or flight instinct had always been strongest.
Spotting a sign for a motel a few miles ahead, Dean relaxed a bit. "We'll pull off at the next motel."