"We didn't confront him; he beat us the hell down. Sam took him to the hole, and took Michael riding Adam with him. We didn't have chance; we just got lucky. A whole ass load of lucky." Dean turned to look at Cas, stopping to look at him again.
"You called Michael 'assbutt' and threw a holy Molotov cocktail at him. Didn't know you had it in you, but how could you not remember? Why would God, if he's really around, make you forget? He hasn't done much in the way of making me forget about all my deaths." Dean had had a few, enough that he'd upset the reapers and their boss with his constantly coming back. Winchesters and apparently those few who were allowed to be close to them had a habit of not staying dead.
"Yeah, why's a damn good question, but I don't have the answers. I don't even know where the hell we are. So, if you'd just take us home, that'd be awesome." Dean's smile was anything but genuine. He just wanted to go home.