[Bloody vengeance? No...no, what are you talking about? Dean isn't prone to 'bouts of violence. You must be mistaken. He clears his throat and nods.]

Yeah, that's...that's fine. Whatever I can do, y'know?

[Slaughtering people or not.

He casts his gaze around briefly, grabbing at the nearest chair and dragging it over to the bedside. Assuming that he might need to help with that "wake them up every half-hour" thing, Dean leans forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He hasn't seen Castiel - or Sammy, for that matter - for a couple of days, and peering into Phil's transmission to see that he's a wreck?

That makes him feel a little guilty.]

Lemme know if there's anything else I can help you with, doctor.