A little further down the hall, Sam would hear a familiar voice, "Ow! Son of a--get back here, you glowing space pihrana!" One of the glowing creatures sped down the hall and disappeared from sight with Dean in tow. When the older Winchester spotted Sam and his entourage, his run slowed until he stopped a few feet from his brother.

"Don't piss 'em off, Sammy." He cradled the bleeding, glowing wound just below his MID on his wrist. He needed a weapon. Hell, he'd happily take a tennis racket at this point. Sam was surrounded. "Thought they might be fairies or souls at first, but souls should've bolted by now and from what I can tell, everyone can see them, so that rules out fairies."

As Dean spoke, he was moving very slowly and carefully around the bitey, glowing entities to get to Sam. He held his hands up slightly, palms out, in the most disarming way he could muster so he didn't provoke them further.