"I'll go get it, just stay in the van in case you need to bolt," Sam says without pause, moving to get the container in the back. "I'll yell if I need you, but if it's too much, you can always take off and leave me." Not that he thinks Dean needs the reminder, and that hurts as much as everything else, but he accepts it. This world is his punishment; a Dean that doesn't give a fuck about him is his personal Hell, and he has to take the pain and punishment and be something better than before.

He grabs the container and leaves wordlessly. It's very quiet, which is always good, and there are a number of cars left around the place. For the most part, they're nearly empty; even between five or six cars, there's little but a few inches of gas. Barely that. However, he disappears behind the store for a long moment — there's the muffled sound of something growling and screaming. The screaming doesn't last long, though.

Dean should probably be more concerned with the headlights down the road, in his rearview mirror. Sam, meanwhile, wanders back out from behind the gas station, the container full of gas, and swishes it around to offer to Dean. His stare trails back toward the headlights, too.

Never a dull moment.