“Dean! Get the hell off me!”

“No, Sam!”

“Let me through!”

“You can’t go in there! You’re going to get yourself killed!” Dean was holding his brother back, purposely standing in his way.

“I don’t care!” Sam roared back. “Y/N is in there!” And then he said more quietly, as if he was trying not to break, “Y/N is in there.”

“I know,” Dean said, finally letting go of the front of Sam’s jacket. “I know. But we need a plan. You can’t just charge in there, guns blazing. Let’s be smart about this.”

Sam could only clench his jaw and concede to his brother’s demands.