"I don't want to!" Sam said childishly. He gave the wheelchair a petulant kick.

"It's the best way to get us out of here," Dean said. "Dr. Dickhead here is gonna wheel you out. If anyone questions us, he'll take care of it. Right, Dickhead?"

Eyes on Dean's big gun, the frightened man nodded his head vigorously.

Sam eyed the chair. Lower lip stuck out a mile, he wobbled over to Dean and cuddled against him. "Want the 'pala," he whispered plaintively.

"She's parked right outside, Sammy." Hiding a grin, Dean patted Sam's arm. "Come on, kiddo, let's go home."