Sam
He paused for a moment, watching Dean gently settle Anna into the backseat of the Impala; the once powerful and self assured hunter shaking in fear, grey eyes wide and staring at some danger only she could see. She was mumbling a string of unintelligible words, that sounded familiar; but Sam couldn't identify why. He ached inside for his friend, for the person she used to be.
Dean was so gentle as he carefully buckled Anna into her seat, making sure the belt didn't ruck up her shirt, carefully tucking long hair behind her ears. His brother made it seem so easy, to say no. To push away the burning rage he felt more and more frequently. But it wasn't as simple as pushing it away. Sam had tried that already. But he knew he would follow Dean, always.
Sam sighed and got into the car, but quickly twisting his body around to check on Anna when the backseat went silent. Her posture had gone ramrod straight, and her general countenance seemed to mirror that of a prisoner going to their execution. Rigid back, stoney face, slight tremors of fear racking her body. Dean started up the car, the Impala's engine turning over with its familiar roar. Sam relaxed instantly at the sound; the familiarity of the ritual calming him. Oddly enough, it seemed to do the same for Anna. Suddenly, a thought struck him.
"Dean?" Sam asked his brother urgently. Dean glanced over at him as he pulled the car out onto the highway.
"What are we going to say to Bobby?"