RAAAWWWR! "Eeeeeeeeeeeee! You know, I just never get tired of that! You could put that in front of me on an endless loop for days and days and days, and I'd still keep shrieking every single time I saw it!" This does not surprise me as much as you might think it should, Raoul.
Molly plunges headlong through the woods, racing away from the grizzled and grisly old coot in the hunting cabin, and manages to reach the rural highway just as a couple of familiar-looking headlights appear in the distance. She charges out in front of the approaching car, waving her arms around in the air while frantically pleading for the car's occupants to stop. El Deano stomps on the brakes with a startled and pissed, "Holy [shit]!" and the Impala skids across the road's rain-slicked surface for a bit before squealing to a halt with its front bumper mere inches from Molly's legs. Molly hitches her breath a couple of times as her eyes almost glaze over in a stunned stupor before she finds her voice again and pleads directly into the camera, "You've got to help me!" The shot cuts away from her face to rear up behind the Impala as she skitters around to the passenger's side door to bat her hands against the window. Riding shotgun, of course, a gape-mouthed Sam repeats, "All right!" a couple of times as he shakily rolls the window down. "Calm down!" he instructs before asking Molly to tell them what happened.
Mere moments later, it's begun to rain again as the boys plus Molly stand around the now-silent Impala so Molly might fill them in on recent events. Molly's about to describe her grisly coot of a pursuer when Dean interrupts her narrative to ask, "Did he look like he lost a fight with a lawnmower?" Sam, who'd been offering the still-panicky and somewhat grief-stricken Molly the full Super-Special Puppy-Dog Eyes treatment, drops that schtick immediately at this to glare at his insensitive jackass of a brother. Hee. That never gets old. In any event, Molly responds by murmuring, "How did you know that?" Dean noticeably blanks at this and flounders around for an appropriate response before flashing his blinding smile and shrugging, "Lucky guess." Sam glares at Dean once more before he slips easily into that Captain Empathy attire of his to offer "Molly McNamara" a ride back into town to sort everything out. "I can't," Molly protests, "I have to find David -- he might have gone back to the car!" "We should get you somewhere safe first," Sam gently suggests, "and then Dean and I'll come back here, we'll look for your husband..." "No!" Molly insists. "I'm not leaving here without him!" Sam and Dean shoot each other alternately befuddled and exasperated looks as Molly whimpers, "Would you just take me back to my car, please?" A moment passes before Sam chooses to sigh, "Of course," and as Dean crawls in behind the wheel, Darling Sammy rather gallantly opens the back door for their unexpected guest.