Whether the touch was lingering or comradely, Sam didn't care. He needed it just then, even if it was small. He needed, right then, some little human reminder, to be a shoulder to lean on and someone to be helped. Even if he didn't need the help standing up.

"God, let there be vodka," Sam groaned, tilting his gaze upwards momentarily. Not that anyone was listening, but he could have used something hard right then. "I'd trade not going back for some vodka."