He stiffened yet again at the contact. Blood staining his white shirt and face, Sam glared off at her and opened his mouth to speak. He quickly clamped it shut, however, when she began to heal his wounds. This was the second time he had seen his injuries heal up like that. The first was with Peter, now with her. Oh! And, of course, there was that one time when Jake had completely torn through his spinal cord and had killed him. He woke up hours later with nothing more than a scar on his back. This was different though. His wounds were healing right before his very eyes.
When she finished, Sam stared her down for a moment before he turned his back to her and took a few steps forward. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a side of him that he hadn't seen in a very long time pushed at him.
She helped you. She can't be so bad.
Yeah, right. He wanted to ignore it. The Sam that he was before. Always so willing to second guess things. That was his job. Dean was the action taker. Sam was the one who thought twice before he made a move himself.
Or at least he used to be.
Stopping in his tracks, Sam said, "There's another store a few blocks from here. I'll drive." He didn't even bother looking back at her as he walked back toward the 67 impala. If she wanted to come, this was her chance. Otherwise he was heading out. Sam didn't feel like sticking around long enough for the cops to show.