[Castiel rolls his eyes in response. Fine, he thinks. If Dean wants honesty, Dean will get honesty.]

Okay. I think you look like shit, actually. I was trying to be nice about it, but since you asked...

[He pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn't mean for so much sarcasm to seep into his tone, but he feels on edge, as brittle as a twig iced over by a winter storm; like he could break at any given moment. He busies himself by arranging and rearranging the paper towels, finding even more convenient spots for them every few minutes or so.]

Yes, as far as I'm aware. My Grace might have limitations here, but it does seem to be intact.

[He considers Dean a moment, in between finding a new placement for the forks.]

I could use my Grace on you, if you feel as bad as you look.