( Glad to see that realization hit him on its own so Dean doesn't have to explain. They're exchanging quiet words, but all the same he doesn't want someone to overhear it.

Despite their friction, his hesitance with the plan has nothing to do with worrying about leaving Sam alone with them. It's just against his instincts to abandon someone during a situation like this. Walking in the opposite direction of the threat is completely counterintuitive to his gut.

But there's no better play here. Not that he can think of. )

Alright. Don't wake the neighbors.

( The concession's light, and while it's technically a joke there isn't a scrap of real humor to be found in there.

The other two don't voice their feelings when he heads over to start hauling the injured guy up. Even a civilian knows on some innate level that the guy with the broken leg's gonna get carried out first, they don't argue it, but there's a restlessness and an envy underneath the surface that's completely natural for a human being a little afraid for their lives. )

Alright, buddy. Come on.

( But my bag-- )

Don't worry about that right now, you just worry about holding this up while we hobble our asses back to camp, alright? Come on.

( Easy, steady, calm. The kind of reassuring that comes less from outright empathy and more from the sense that this somehow seems routine to him. Like it's no big deal.

One arm over Dean's shoulders, one hand on the rain shield, he lifts--

And the guy doesn't have nearly enough experience with leg injuries to know not to even bother trying to put his foot down. The second it hits the ground he cries out sharply, a guttural pained noise that carries down the passageway.

Dean freezes in place, eyes shooting to Sam, breath held. Something in his expression keeps the other two silent, too. )