"Yeah," he said to Rose and Dean. "Slept great. I've always preferred a firm mattress." He head a groan from Sam's way and gave a little wave when he looked up. "Welcome to the party."
Watching Sam poke at his cuffs, made John take a look at his. One on his left arm and one around his right ankle, inside his boot. That's what he got, he supposed, for the half-assed lacing job he always did. He picked at the one on his wrist for a moment, trying to find some way to release it, but the material was weirdly smooth and unbroken.
Pushing to his feet, hiding the wince when his body protested, he went immediately for the pickaxes and hefted one. It was heavy and solid.
"Now, why would they want to arm us like this?" he asked the room in general, giving the axe a swing.