Family?

3.

"I didn't drag you," Dean says in a quiet voice. "

"Whatever," Sam mutters.

"Okay, okay assbutts, concentrate," Castiel scolds.

Dean pulls out his gun to break the lock of the library door.

"Wait," Sam says, pulling out a pin from his pocket.

A bobby pin.

"More convineint," he explains.

"Bitch" Dean mutters under his breath, earning a slap on the head from Castiel.

"Look at him, he carries bobby pins in his pocket! Bobby pins?! Seriously!" Dean rubs his hand on his head.

The lock clicks open and Sam raises an eyebrow at Dean as if to say 'see, jerk.'

They softly pad into the room and Sam starts rummaging through the books on the shelves right away while Dean makes himself comfortable and sits on the librarian's seat with his legs on the desk.

Castiel keeps an eye on both of them, just so they don't start fighting again.
After about an hour, Sam emerges from the maze of shelves with a stack of books in his hands.

"Finally! Took you long enough!" Dean says, putting his legs down and standing up.

"There's another pile so I guess you should help," Sam says without making eye contact.

Castiel is waiting for them outside when the two walk out of the library. Sam places the stack of books in the backseat and turns back.

"Where are you going?" Dean asks curiously.

"Locking the door..." Sam mumbles.

"Quick Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes, we don't want to get caught," Dean directs at him.

"Jerk," Sam says, getting into the car.

"Bitch," Dean counters.

"So Castiel, where are we going now?" Sam asks, ignoring Dean.

"To our apartment," Castiel replies.

"You guys don't go to your lair?" Sam asks.

"Yes we do, but we can't take you there for security reasons," Castiel explains.

"I'm a vampire, you guys are vampires, we are all the same right?" Sam.

"We are sorting this mark thing and then we go our separate ways. So why can't you keep your goddamn nose to yourself?!" Dean thunders, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Dean..." Castiel whispers. "He's alright. No need to be so over-protective," he says in a low voice.

"Okay, okay..." Dean sighs.

The environment is silent, except for the sound of the wheels of the car brushing on the asphalt. Dean concentrates on the road. Castiel is looking at the road ahead, but his mind is in a world beyond normal imagination.

He knows that he has seen a mark like the one on Sam and Dean's hand before, but doesn't remember where or when.

He racks his brains, thinking hard. His expression is something one can't decipher by looking, unless he's psychic.

His deep thinking is interrupted by the sound of soft snores coming from the backseat.

Both Dean and Castiel jerk their heads behind together, to see a very peaceful-looking Sam sleeping soundly, with his mouth open.

His condition is an expected one, he was too tired.

Dean looks at Castiel and smirks. "I'm going to try something."

They have reached their apartment building, so Dean parks the vehicle in its usual place.

He rumages through the dashboard drawer for a few seconds, and pulls out a small spoon. It truly hurts him to use that particular spoon; it's the spoon he uses to eat what he calls 'unexpected pie'; but he wants to get back at Sam.

He puts the spoon in Sam's mouth, and clicks a picture on his iPhone. Fortunately, Sam doesn't wake up.

"Sam... Wake up..." Dean says, shaking him lightly.

Sam rubs his eyes and gets out of the car. Something about his sleepy state makes Dean smile. Sam leans in to get the books out but Dean stops him.

"We'll get them in the morning," he says and Sam nods.

Castiel leads the way and the two follow. Reaching the apartment, Castiel offers to take the couch as there are only two beds in there.

Sam falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Dean steals his phone from his pocket and takes a seat on the couch. He unlocks the phone, which, to his surprise has no password. He goes through his social media accounts; he has a Facebook, an Instagram and a Twitter.

Dean calls himself from Sam's phone, so as to save his number. He sends the picture he clicked to Sam's phone. Then he uploads the picture on Sam's social media accounts and smiles victoriously.

"Tada! I'm done," he says to no one in particular. But then he catches Castiel looking forlorn.

"Cas?" He tries to grab his attention.

No answer.

He walks over to Castiel and shakes him a bit.

"What?" Castiel asks.

"What were you thinking about?" Dean asks.

"Nothing," Castiel lies.

"Oh, come on! Just throw up!" Dean says angrily.

"He's sleeping Dean. Be quiet," Castiel says, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah! And I give a damn!" Dean shouts, louder than before.

"Okay, okay!" Castiel gives up. "I think I know what that mark is. I mean, I've seen it somewhere, but I can't remember."

"Rack your brains then," Dean says, as if it's easy to remember something about so long ago.

"It's not that simple, Dean," Castiel replies. "And yeah, Sam's a psychic. He was really good at hiding his thoughts at first. But then, either he forgot to cover up, or he was really tired."

"I think it's the second one," Dean says, glancing at a sleeping Sam.

"Me too. But I know he's alright. He's not planning anything," Castiel informs.

"I think we should call it a day now," Dean says, walking over to his bed. He removes his leather jacket and kicks off his shoes before climbing into the bed and pulling over the covers.

"And Cas?" He calls.

"Hmm?" Castiel replies, putting the extra pillows on the couch, attempting to make it comfortable.

"Think about where you know the mark from, yeah?" Dean says.

"I will do that," Castiel assures and switches the lights off. He takes off his trench coat and hangs it on its stand. Then, he too drifts off to sleep on the not-so-comfortable couch.