He swallows a few advil from where he's standing in front of the sink and mirror, and doesn't bother to look immediately at Dean until he's finished.

"Look. I can do the whole....chopping off vampire things. And the whole witch hexes, and other freaky shit. But, Dean. He has my face. Why the hell does he have my face?"

And he can hear the petulant whine on the bed and he rolls his eyes. "What are you gonna do with it?"