[ Geralt is quiet, patient. They've been friends long enough that Geralt is aware of Sam's thoughts. He never needed Sam to spare him them, and he never spared Sam his in return. But it says something, too, that he knows Sam will not turn him away on the basis of conflicting principles alone. Because this is not about Sam or what Sam wants. It is about Geralt, about his family.

Perhaps that's where the foundation of their trust lies.

He's not yet faced Dean. If the demon were to exhibit some remnant of his friend...he isn't certain. The thought weighs heavy. Eskel had not been completely consumed, either. He wishes more than anything he could have saved him. But he couldn't, didn't, and he's prepared for the same outcome with Dean. ]

Not a fucking clue. [ The demon may not even be on this side of the continent. The shoreline between that island and the landmass runs miles. ] But leave that to me. I'm told he should succumb to safeguards for demons on their sphere. Holy water and—

[ Geralt grabs a parchment and a pen, sketching the sigil that Dean once showed him. He never bought it as protection against all demons—that term varies wildly from sphere to sphere—but for something born directly of Dean's realm? It may work. ]

I don't know what abilities he holds in this form. So be careful.