Sam nodded at the explanation. It was a little different than anything he’d ever used himself but the principle was familiar. He’d seen shelves full of objects in the men of letters bunker that could easily be used for what John was describing now. And he was certainly no stranger to the power that could be lent by Enochian script. The sigils carved into his ribs by Castiel to keep him hidden from angels were a testament to that.
His eyes widened a little as John worked the incantation to power the container. Sam had always held a bit of a fascination for magic, even more so since being with Gretel. There was a very palpable twinge in his chest at the memory of her performing a ritual not unlike this one and he reached across the bar for the nearest bottle before he really knew what he was doing. He dispensed with the formality of his glass and took a slug from the half empty bottle.
“Think there’s really much call for that here?” He asked. “I haven’t seen any signs of demonic activity since I arrived.” Not to mention the fact that he trusted Dean would have told him if there was anything he needed to be aware of, or anything that needed taken care of.