You were naive in thinking this way. You only realized that after a full three hours of locking yourself in Dean's room. Naive in being so nervous.

Your gut clenched anxiously, worried and hopeful all at the same time.

You wondered how Cas was doing, how Dean and Sam were taking what just happened. Maybe they thought you were dangerous.

Once again you reminded yourself of how bad your thoughts were. Doubting them like this wasn't something you should do, you needed to trust them- and trust yourself.

You decided that staying in this room alone with your thoughts wasn't going to stop that mentality. Instead, you got to your feet, clutching your pillow to you chest and stopping at the door.

When you did open the door, the metal hinges creaked- echoing through the halls painfully loud against the silence.

You needed to find them, talk to them both about what just happened.

Sam came to mind first- he was softer and easier to talk to, but then again, Dean was harsher- he was realer with you- told you the truth even if it hurt. Sometimes you needed the straight truth.

You needed to talk to both of them- together.

"Sam? Dean?" Your voice called out.

"Yeah?" Sam's voice echoed from farther down the hall. You followed after his call, meandering down the hall before calling out again.

"We're in your room!" He shouted, the clunking sound of books and papers fluttering after he spoke.

Waddling your way down to your old room, you heard several along with more clunks of books, even Dean's confused tone of voice.

Cracking the door open, you peeked inside- making eye contact with both Sam and Dean before fully entering.

You stood by the door for a few seconds, unsure about how to approach them.

Sam had cleaned a good portion of the room, enough to make a pathway to the bookshelf. Dean on the other hand was lazing on your pillowless and blanketless bed- one of your favorite books in hand.

You moseyed over to your mattress, chucking your pillow at Dean's face before ruthlessly throwing your back onto Dean's legs.

He flinched, but refused to give up his laying space- simply pushing your pillow off his face and subtly shifting his legs.

Sam kept sorting through books, and Dean tossed your book on the floor and settled on giving you a stare.

"Aye- that's like my favorite book- pick it up." You glared at him, slapping his stomach and sitting up off his legs to look at the book.

Sam snapped his head in your direction in confusion, as did Dean.

Reluctantly you flickered your gaze between them, "What?" You scratched your cheek, "...What's wrong?"

Sam looked between you and the book, quickly stretching down to snatch the book off the ground.

"This book is your favorite?"

You almost snorted at how much of a big deal they were making. "Yes. Haha- you know- it doesn't look it, but it's actually very interesting."

Dean's eyebrow rose the same times Sam's did and you let out another laugh- both at their weird sibling suspicion thing- and that they questioned your choice of book.

"Guys- it's a book- stop being weird." You rose your own eyebrow as they both continued to stare at you.

Sam looked at the book, flipping through a couple pages before shutting it again.

"What's it about?" Sam questioned- suspicious tone of voice so obvious that you gave him another weird look.

Dean also looked ready for your answer- just as suspicious as his brother, if even more so.

It was an easy answer- really. All you had to do was read like the first page and you'd get what it was about. You didn't even know why you had to explain this to them. Why you had to explain what this nice book was about.

Lifting a finger in the air, you parted your lips to start explaining what happens in it- but with an astounding moment of breathing in air through an empty mouth, you realized. You had no idea what that book was about.

Your eyes went wide as you looked at them, finger still held aloft in the air.

Oh god. What was that book about. You loved that book- and you read it...

When did you even read it?

Your finger slowly fell down with the rest of your fingers, hand stuck in the air out of sheer nervousness. Your mouth shut itself as well, and you looked up at Sam with an anxious smile.

"I- uh. I don't know what its about."

Sam made a disgruntled face. Dean made a 'done with this shit' face and continued to lounge on the bed.

"You don't at all know what this book is about?" Sam pressed lifting the book in the air.

You shook your head no- accepting the book when he held it out to you.

"What about the language it's written in? Does it look familiar?"

You could only stare in shock at the strange symbols carved onto the cover. Rubbing your thumb on the old leather bound book, you took a moment to take it in before flipping to the first page.

All of it looked like scribbles to you. Meaningless chicken scratch that did nothing to jog any memories about them. All you could think about was the strangest feeling of nostalgia that lingered on each and every page of foreign letters.

You shook your head no at Sam. None of it was recognizable.

Sam squinted, "Do you know where you got them from? Did you buy them?"

Again, you shrugged, too focused on the book to look at him, "I've always just lugged them around with me..."

"What about your other books?"

Finally, you looked up, watching as he gestured to the many books lining your cluttered bookshelf of knickknacks and papers.

"Oooh- I love all of those! They-" you choked your own smile off your face as you once again couldn't recall anything about any of them.

Sam gave you an incredulous look, before turning his expression towards Dean.

The older brother groaned immediately, "Oh god- smite me already- I'm done with weird psychedelic bullshit today." He proceeded to throw his arms over his eyes mouth pulled taut in a frown.

Sam took a moment to look back at the books lining the bookshelf. A long stare he gave them, eyes reflecting the many thoughts swirling around inside his head. You could almost see him trying to work out problems.

"Yeah." He started, "We were wondering why you had such weird books in your room. Who'd have guessed that its just another strange thing connected to the even stranger mystery that is you." Sam sounded sarcastic- which was rare, but most definitely called for. Even you felt fed up with just how excessive everything was.

"Can we burn these books?" Was the first question you asked.

Dean spit out a, "Yes. Absolutely." before Sam sighed in an exasperated manner and ran a hand down his face,

"No Dean. We need to study this stuff."

You and Dean huffed, but didnt object any further.

How you didn't notice that the bookshelf of books you lugged around with you were strange foreign texts, you had no idea.

"Funny- I didn't even come here to talk about books. I came here to talk about what happened out there with Cas."

Sam continued to sort through books, but the glance he threw you said he was listening.

"Do you guys know what's up with him?"

Dean just huffed out an estranged laugh at your question, "No clue- He said something about how you made him super happy. After that he spaced out. On both missions."

Sam chuckled lightheartedly, "Sounds like puppy love."

"Puppy love my ass- he ignored me despite wasting a good ten minutes doing nothing inside of a car." You threw yourself back onto the bed- and consequently Dean's legs.

Dean smirked and spoke in a teasing manner giving you a few good pokes, "Puppy love- Puppy love!" His incessant poking at your sides was both ticklish and annoying, so you smacked his hands off of you.

"Shut it big guy."

Sam grinned, "Puppy looovveee~"

You glared, "Shut it even bigger guy...!"

They gave a good hardy laugh at your efforts to dissuade them differently, and from the way they didn't stop smiling you knew their thoughts were already set in stone.

Eventually Sam went back to sifting through library books, while Dean, on the other hand, continued to relax on your bed. Even if sitting on his legs was kind of uncomfortable- the domesticity of the atmosphere was much more pleasant then the tenser atmospheres that had been recently occurring.

Much calmer- and much warmer feeling.

The white noise of clunking books and shuffling papers matched with the comfy air of the room was more then enough to lull you to sleep.