A sleepy yawn escapes Dean’s lips as he shuffles out of his bedroom and down the long bunker hallway, his bare feet padding along the cool linoleum floor, following the familiar and rousing smell of coffee and Sam’s cooking. Sam is ALWAYS up before he is. He swears his not so little brother is crazy for willingly getting up so god damn early.

Sniffling and bringing his hand up to rub some sleep from one of his bleary green eyes, he steps past the doorway to the library and war room, hearing a thump coming from within the room, but he continues walking for a second, not registering the noise in his half asleep daze. But after a few seconds, he pauses in his tracks, his hand falling from his eye and his brows slowly furrowing. He listens for a moment, picking up on the sound of Sam’s stupid humming he always does while he cooks, so the noise wasn't Sam because Sam’s in the kitchen... and Castiel is out doing god knows what. So who the hell was that?

He slowly and quietly takes a few steps back towards the room, his brows furrowing further as he studies the room from the doorway, searching for any signs of something being off or out of place. After listening for a moment and hearing nothing, he decides he wants to be safer than sorry.

So he creeps into the library, quietly grabbing the hidden gun from under one of the long study tables, holding it up and ready to shoot any possible intruder. He continues to slowly make his way into the large room, his eyes scanning every corner and crevice he can see, and then his eyes land on your dazed form slumped over behind a bookcase, and within seconds he raises the gun and growls. “Who the hell are you? How’d you get in here?” When you don't immediately respond, Dean yells out. “SAM! Get your ass in here!”