Guilt came on, hard and fast, when Dean really listened to Claire's words. It was true, he often turned to alcohol to deal with his problems. That was no real shock. It wasn't something he was proud of, and certainly nothing he had planned on, but what started as a drink when he was a teenager in what could only be described as an impossible situation turned to more and more to the point where he might have drank himself to death in the wake of his memories of hell had things gone just a little bit differently. There was no danger of that for Claire, of course, but with the magical liquor, nothing was certain.
It wasn't fear of her dying that caused him to react so strongly, though, it was the fear that she was pushing them all away, one by one. Though Claire had never demanded that he leave her alone when she was in the middle of drinking, she wasn't really there herself. He loved her, so fully, so completely that the thought of her being pissed and thinking he was the world's biggest hypocrit was ok, just as long as she was alive to think it. He needed her there to be pissed at him, not locked up in a drunken haze in her mind somewhere.
He didn't move from his spot in the doorway, he just extended a hand down to her so that she could use it to pull herself up, if she chose to trust him with that. "No, you didn't." He said, bending down just a little to bring his hand closer to her. "But I want better for you, Claire Winchester."