Dean watches the boy's hand loosen on his own before his eyes dart back up to his face. Even in the dark, he's easier to see up close, and he thinks the light suits him better than the shadows.

"I know a hunter when I see one." Dean snaps, "He should have considered that before he left. He's mine. And he stays."

He does though, reluctantly, drop his hand from that fragile throat, "You need to go."

For all he's detached from humanity anymore, it's obvious this one isn't a killer. "And know that anyone you send back here won't have as lenient a fate."