And then Castiel felt as though he could breathe again, letting out an unneeded sigh as he moved forward, making himself known.
Dean was not going to die. He was not going to let it.
"Claire," he spoke quietly, reaching out to rest his hand on hers, pausing the knife. "I can take it from here." As much as he knew how her power worked, he did not like the idea of her shedding any more blood than she needed to. Not when he could help.
His other hand went to Ruby's shoulder, just for a moment. She was here and she was helping, even potentially putting her life into the hands of people who loathed her to do it. The brief look he gave her spoke as to how much that meant to him.
But any further talk would have to wait. Dean was bleeding out rapidly. His hand moved down Ruby's arm to where she was pressing against the wound, gently easing her hand away. "I can take it from here," he repeated gently before looking to Claire. "Claire, you've done enough, conserve your own strength."
He shifted his gaze to look at Dean. "You're going to be alright Dean, do you hear me?" As he spoke he gently pushed with power, healing the wounds one by one.