"Oh, Cas. Finally man I've been praying for a week. What do you mean I'm not dying? What's wrong with me?" Dean asks once he has a chance to process what Cas said. He certainly felt like he was dying. He couldn't keep anything down, he couldn't sleep, he was weak, he was tired. He looked like hell and wose he knew he looked like hell.

"Can you fix it with your angel mojo or something?"