Sam picked at his jeans, bit at his cuticles and fidgeted against the gun tucked into the back of his pants. He hadn't carried his piece in a long time, but when it came down to protecting his family? He took no chances.
Dean looked like he might puke. Sam felt the same way. He knew that they both probably were skeptical about this, but that didn't mean they weren't going to go get her.
"Dude, you're carrying, right?" Sam ripped off a hangnail and spat.