( Funny how many notes Sam's hitting that match Dean's brother. He does the sympathy thing, the personable thing, tending to the vics so Dean can focus on the perimeter. It's not that he can't do it, it's just he's fallen into certain dynamics that he's grown to prefer. Standing vigil and scouting the situation is his half of the package.

His few ambling yards into the cave the first pass got the hair at the back of his neck standing up. He doesn't say a goddamn word about it. Won't do them any good to freak them out any more than they already are. Has to actively repress it as Sam ventures inward, something discontent pulling at his mouth and the muscles between neck and shoulder. )

Plenty, but not for that.

( He says grimly. )

One person every eight or nine hours. Nothing else I got's gonna do us any good here. And we got another problem.

( It's so easy to miss, so innocuous. Could just be the wind.

Except it's coming from the wrong direction. )