（ he figures it out about a half second before dean announces it. breathing. something distant. reminds him of being a boy, coming across his grandfather curled up as an old gray-muzzled grizzly. breathing. in, out.

deep.

big. the negative pressure of the inhalation ruffles his shirt collar.

sam shifts where he's standing, just a little. putting himself more squarely between the back of the cave and the civvies. ）

Okay.

（ he scratches a nail along his browbone. triage. no panic, just a steady calm. ）

Take the injured one and the shield, head back to the Basecamp. Grab another team and something with a little more oomph than a pea shooter. I'll babysit.