Dean knew the second Sam was gone and he felt like someone had just punched him so hard in the stomach he'd never catch his breath. Eyes stinging from the tears, Dean choked on a noise that he couldn't quite call a word, his arms tightening around his brother as he buried his face down against Sam's shoulder.
"Sam? Sammy!" His voice cracked a bit and he grit his teeth, trying not to cry anymore, but he hated every bit of this. His mind kept reeling on the idea of it's just a week, only a week but he couldn't believe it'd be that easy.
Taking a breath as he looked up at Red, his eyes as dead as Sam was, Dean nodded towards his gun and the bag. "Get those. I'll carry him out now. Wait for my word and hit the button on the detonator. These bastards are gonna burn for this."