Sam's head hurt. It took him a while to sort out where he was, but he soon realized he was still in the driver's seat of the truck, but with a medkit beeping away and Snow peering at him in concern. He groaned as memories started slipping into place. Rather than looking out at the road, for fear of what he'd see, he turned to his teammate. "If you're taking the time to patch me up, it must mean nothing's trying to kill us. Not right now, at least. Right?"