Sam kept his hand on his gun, but he wasn't holding it in a threat. He could have it cocked and ready in a matter of seconds, sure. But his brother was the shoot first, ask questions later sort. Sam was a little less trigger happy, even when he was spooked.
He drew a breath, eyes focusing on the man who spoke to him. He recognised something in the man's posture. A fellow Hunter, perhaps. Whatever it was, the guy had seen some shit. Probably been through it, done some things too. Sam felt a kinship to that.
He sighed, his own posture relaxing a slight bit. Not much, but enough to hopefully convey he didn't mean to harm or cause any trouble. He was in the middle of a freak out, though. Because, hello. This is not where he was supposed to be. Not where he wanted to be.
"Where am I?" he asked, the look in his eye and the tone of his voice saying he wasn't quite willing to believe he'd been yanked out of his own world and transplanted to a new one even though that's what all the signs pointed to.