Dean looked away as Sam and Fred had a moment. He tried not to think of the woman who'd just gone through the ...rift? He didn't know what it was, but he knew he wanted to end something.
"I can." Dean lifted his Colt, having reloaded it; the cherished handgun had taken well to the new ammunition. The older Winchester had been a little concerned about the new ordinances moving through his weapons, but everything seemed to work just fine.
"On my count. To three." He was ready, watching as one of the dinosaurs decided it was going to attack, not just one. Great. He had to work the math, the timing.
"One..two..." He was relying on Sam to do the job, and he knew that Sam could do it. "Three!"