Sam was still recovering from the fact that one of those half-assed attempts at Soulfire had hit him.

It was less the actual fire, though, than the fact that it hadn't actually hurt. Or touched him, as near as he could tell.

Sam patted himself down, finally catching up with the conversation enough to be able to follow Dean's line of sight. He paused, glancing to Dean and back again before a smile spread across his face. "Oh yeah. I don't think I could think of a more prefect vessel, actually." And yes, he chose the wording specifically.

Sam looked at the trident, then back at Daimon. "Do you need help moving that?" The tattoo seemed to have helped the entire time they'd been dealing with the Darksoul. And if Sam couldn't be harmed by the Soulfire...

At least that little bit of immunity was still coming in handy.