Raph worked quickly, patting Dean down for more guns. For lots of guns. There were way too many guns. And clips. And guns.

(And who carried around a grenade? What the heck?!)

"You, sir, are one sick cookie," he muttered to the unconscious Dean as he reached into a little pouch at his belt and took out some zip ties, using them to tie Dean's feet together and to fasten his hands behind his back.

Then he pulled out the snow globe from the pouch, muttered, "The Pole" into it, looked at the image of Santa's Workshop shimmering into view, and threw it.

As the portal opened up, he looked over at Dean, prone on the forest floor, and looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he looked at the shrapnel in his arm and looked more thoughtful. Then he looked back at Dean, walked over, and kicked him sharply in the side. Once. Not hard enough to break anything but hard enough he'd be feeling it when he woke up.

Satisfied, he hefted the man up with his uninjured arm and tossed him over his shoulder - not an easy task despite his strength since the man was ridiculously tall in comparison to Raph.

"You are so lucky I'm not leaving you here to get eaten, you jerk," he said to the unconscious man, walking through the portal.