He huffs a laugh, mirthless and bitter. "Operative word being 'try', there. It didn't work because I came here before it could." Or rather, because Dean managed to pull him from that tenuous brink, but he's not going into that here and now. No way in literal Hell.

Sam rakes a tired hand through his hair, pushing sweaty strands from his face.

"I'm with you there," he admits. "Getting out's definitely number one on my list of things to do. Number two being find out who did this, and ideally make them regret it." Never mind that Sam doesn't look like he could go two rounds with a wet paper towel, let alone take on some weirdly powerful entity capable of snatching people from all over, apparently, the universe.