"I don't believe you," Sam replied. "I don't. I can't." She was a demon. She couldn't be trusted. Even if she didn't seem all that dangerous, Sam had to listen to what he knew. If he was actually stupid enough to fall for whatever it was that Trance was trying to convince him of, then everything that Dean had sacrificed himself for would have gone straight out the window. Sam didn't want his brother to have died for nothing. Even if he already felt as though it already was for nothing.
"I don't know why you're wasting your time," Sam said angrily. "If you're good? That's great. Go do some good. Stop trying to convince me of what side you're on. There are people out there that need saving."
That said, Sam began to move back toward the car, but a passing figure managed to draw in his attention.
Henry Marshal. The man who was supposed to be prison.Or at least it appeared to be him. Sam hastily shoved his knife away and reached into the trunk of the impala, pulled out his Taurus 9mm, and slammed the trunk shut. "Speaking of which," he muttered under his breath as he stepped past Trance. He kept his gun out of sight as he walked, eyes resting entirely on the creature that was headed into the convenience store as he followed suit.