Rescue vs. Minions/Victims
Dean struggled against Sam. Pulling himself from his brother's grip. One priority taking over the other; the need to protect the key over not ever hurting Sam. His hand balled into another fist but before he could raise it, to clock his own brother, something happened.
He blinked and shook his head as the spell took affect. It was as if the jumbled, shifting, buzzing had just stopped. Things were rearranged and slow and carefully put together, and with a click all was right again. Mostly. "I hope to God, you were just making the crazy person feel better, Sam, or I might reconsider punching you." The words were lame even to his own ears, as he tried hard to infuse some humor in them.
Rubbing his hand over his face, Dean's eyes took in his brother, and answered before Sam could even ask. "Yeah. I'm sane again. Or as sane as I ever been." His eyes cut to Ruby, involuntarily, and it was a visual struggle for a moment. However, at that instant he was too tired to care. All of barriers weren't back up and he was just raw. Which was why it was eaiser now than it ever would have been for him to say, "Sorry."
An apology that would likely never happen again. He didn't give any thanks because that was pushing it. And he hadn't asked her to stand his way. He was damn sure that had been Sam. However, she'd done it. He didn't delude himself into thinking that she'd done it for him; not even in his previous state would he have been able to consider that. Still. She'd watched out for him and he'd ... hit her. It was good. He wasn't going to lie about that and if he could get away with it again, he'd do it. His apology was more for harming her when she'd been trying to help, than the actual act of hitting her. Five letters more complicated than they should have been, but he had the feeling she'd understand.