It's a Saturday night, and instead of a million other more enjoyable Saturday night pastimes, the Winchester brothers are up to their eyeballs in research.
Dean can't even see Sam around the stack of books on the table in their hotel room. He's wedged between the wall and the bathroom door, reading yet another ancient text on the Great and Demonic What's-His-Nuts, and they've been researching for three and a half hours now, and Sam has been awfully quiet for the last one.
"Sammy, you awake over there?"
He tries to lean around the books at the edge of the table to where Sam is sitting and ends up with his face inches from Castiel's.
"Your brother left forty-five minutes ago."
Dean startles, knocking volumes and loose papers to the floor as he flails backward.
"Dammit, Cas! You almost gave me a freakin' heart attack."
"Sorry." Castiel picks up a few of the books and puts them back on the table in a tidy stack.
"Where the hell did Sam go?" Dean rubs at his blurry eyes. He's really not cut