It's not Sam. The sound of his voice is enough to show Faye that much, not quite as worn or deep, and certainly bearing a softer tone than she can remember Sam ever using with her. The two of them aren't especially close, in spite of Faye dating Dean— or perhaps that's the very reason for their inability to communicate easily, each making too concerted of an effort towards the other for Dean's sake.

"We need to get out of here," she insists, the back of her hand rubbing ineffectually against her eyes, hoping to brush the gold away. "Those marbles aren't safe; they carry this, this virus, and..." Breathing, Faye squints through the light.

"You don't feel strange?"