Dean manages to reach with one of the arms trapped over his head, grabbing aimlessly for Castiel. He sounds angry, and he's speaking nonsense about a goat, and he's probably got ink on him from his angry letter campaign. Dean wants to rub on him, too. "He's so furry," he drawls out, grinning against the fabric of his shirt. "You should pet him. Where did my pie go?"

His arm stretches further, seeking the ground from an impossible angle. "Noah, save my pie."