This place is huge; oh christ, this place is huge. He stops in the middle of the room and looks at Dean anxiously from the safety of a table. He's panting and pale and his nerves are clearly shot already. "You're just — something John never hunted before. And a lot of people knew Bobby. He's special like that. Where's he at, if you know him so well, huh? Where's John? What'd you do with them?"

The panic flutters in his gut, and he's all fight n' flight.

"Where am I? Let me go — I, I won't even tell them. You don't want to have someone like me around, you got it? I'm bad news. You'll be dead by the end of the week." He's rambling now, something of a plead in his tone. Like he's a kidnapped person trying to bargain his life. Pretty much what he sees here.