While Claire prided herself on how well she knew Dean in so many ways, him stepping in to the shower and pinning her against the wall of it surprised her, shocking her into momentary stillness. He wasn't hurting her, he hadn't hurt her by his action, and if she'd kept struggling she wouldn't have been hurt – and she knew that, because she knew him. Knew him and needed him, even if she was furious, and even needed this right now, whether she was able to understand that or not. When she was herself again, she would remember this, what her husband had done for her, and once more marvel at and be grateful for this man who was so much more than most people would ever give him credit for being.
In the quieting of her struggles, she listened to what he was saying. In those few moments it wasn't full clarity, entirely, as that would have meant the fog finally receding to leave her stone-cold sober. However, there was a brief clearness in which the entire situation just came crashing right down. It was insane, both of them in a cold shower with their clothes on. It wasn't the first time they'd tumbled into water with their clothes on, but that had been playful, sexy time. This was cold and miserable and they were both cold and miserable now. He was making points and saying things that duress had lead him to speak so openly and she was behaving in a way she wouldn't if she had half a brain about her right now.
She started to cry, not small and soundless, but harsh, wracking sobs that came off faintly gurgled every few inhales because of the water still streaming down.
"No." One simple word in answer to his question, but the answer was far from simple just the same. "But I don't want to remembering I'm hurting now," she said between sobs, the words hoarsely choked out with a mixture of pain and that anger at so many things.