Dean knew a little bit about you before hunting. You went to some obscure university, studied ancient history and theology, blah, blah, blah. It wasn't important to him. You never spoke about it, he never made you.

"You, girl-"

The demon sneers, stuck in a devil's trap Dean had drawn on the ceiling.

"Still nosing around in books you shouldn't be?"

Dean has no idea what it's talking about, but by the look on your face, it isn't good. He clenches his fist, hovering protectively in front of you.

"Sammy, start the exorcism."

Dean snaps at his brother, holding his arm against you as the demon laughs.

"You know who I am, whore. Remember? I was the one that took care of your roommate-"

The demon suddenly stops, as if choking on its own essence. Dean steps away, standing next to Sam, who hadn't started speaking Latin yet. You stood there, eyes screwed shut, whispering unintelligible words with desperation, a protection prayer. Dean watches you, his gaze intense and protective.

"Should I be worried this is kinda hot?"

Dean smirks softly, glancing at Sam.

"Dean-"

Sam sighs.

"What? I like smart girls who scare demons."