Sam stood outside of the bunker for several minutes after he arrived just staring at the place. He was having second thoughts about going inside now that he was standing so close, second thoughts about being so quick to jump the gun and go to see Dean. He wasn't even sure why it just seemed wrong not to see him and make sure with his own eyes that he was as okay as he seemed on the network. Even if he had threatened him. A few times. And with an archangel. How in the hell was he going to get an archangel, anyway? He wasn't any better though, he could admit that, after all, he had been listening when Dean had stressed empathy and all that other crap to him a few weeks ago.
Sam knew he had spoken too soon about Dean not being his Dean, too, but he had been very freshly arrived and trying to work things about all of this out. It was Dean. Older, but Dean. His head told him as much. Anyway, he was a lot calmer, and Dean seemed that way too, and he might be less likely to get another broken nose since they had waited while their tempers cooled. So... screw it. He was going in.
It was easy enough to find his way in, and he almost lifted his fist to pound out a knock on the steel door in front of him, but he tried it to find it unlocked instead. "Dean?" he called out as he started towards the stairs. He quickly made it about halfway down, his eyes focused on the room at his side, and the table and maps and globes and finally, his brother.