Enochian is in bold.

Dean slammed the backpack onto the table, shoving aside paper and pencils. Sam raised his eyebrows at this gesture, but said nothing about it. Dean leaned forward on the table, his face etched with concentration.

"So far we've got nothing, except a stupid book with a language only angels can read. Oh, wait. Angels can't read it, because they're not supposed to. Because some guy said so. Great. What the hell are we supposed to do with it?"

Sam rolled his eyes, and gestured around the area. Shelves crammed full of books all shapes and sizes lined the walls. Some were fairly new, others had loose pages and had been there for a long time. Plenty of information, probably dating back a couple centuries.

"Dean, we could translate it, even if it is in Enochian. It's not completely hopeless. We have a lot of resources."

A sigh. "Whatever. Let's try and figure this out, then."

Dean pulled the backpack over to him, and unzipped it. He gently slid the book out of the front pocket, and flipped through the pages, eyes flickering over the unknown Enochian symbols. He squinted, bringing it closer to his face.

"Dude, I have no clue what this means. I mean, we could probably get a few symbols, but this whole thing? No way, man."

Sam frowned, leaning to look at the pages. "Let me see."

Dean scoffed. "See all you want, but I don't think that'll help."

Sam's eyebrows knit together as he scanned the Enochian symbols. "What do you mean? This is easy. Look here." He pointed to a lower section, containing a bunched up letters. "It means something. Something important, I think."

He handed the book to Dean, and placed it in front of him. Tapping that area, he said, "Can't you tell?"

Dean raised his eyebrows, and scanned that section of the paper. "Dude, no. All I see is a ton of messy letters that I can't even understand."

Sam frowned, taking the book into his hands. "Really? I could swear...yeah, see? I'll read it." He cleared his throat. "And the Seraph of Thursday will fall, but in his eyes it will be so far from that. In his eyes it will be freedom. Allied with those who have saved countless others from perishing. they will stop our doom."

He squinted. "Wait, but then there's another. It sort of relates to the prophecy, though. It's like this guy had no idea what he was doing. He just sketched out bits of Enochian without an understanding of what he was writing."

Meanwhile, Dean had been standing there, eyes wide open the whole time. He blinked. "Uh, Sammy? When did you learn to speak Enochian?"

He snorted, setting the book down on the table. "What do you mean, speak Enochian?"

"Really? You just did. Like, right now."

"Dean, I don't know what you're talking about, but-" His eyes glazed over.

"Sam? You okay?"

He was leaning against the table, his arms shaking. Memories from his time in the cage were flooding back, years and years of Enochian, and not a spoken word of English. Torture. Pain. Agony.

"Help me. Please. Someone. Anyone." He rasped out, Enochian pouring from mouth.

"Hey, Sammy. Come on, get out of it. I don't know what you're saying, but it's okay."

Sam stopped shaking and his eyes turn to look at Dean. Well, not really. It's like he was seeing through him. Seeing someone else. Dean grabs his arm, and Sam flinches away.

"Hey, it's okay. Okay?"

Sam blinks and gasps, looking around. "What? Where-"

Dean looks at him with a worried expression. "I think you got stuck in a cage memory of some sort. Because I've never heard you speak-"

"Enochian. Yeah, I know." Sam put his face in his hands. "I didn't know I could understand it. Not until now. Then...all the memories came back."

Dean clenched his jaw in anger. "Yeah, well, glad those assholes are gone. You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He still looked unsettled, but his skin color had mostly gone back to normal.

"So, do you know what that page said?" Dean said, turning the book open again. Sam didn't need to look at it again to know what it meant.

"I think it's a prophecy. A prophecy about us."