Sam jumped when he heard the door open to the room. He quickly rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then shifted his attention to the sheet of paper where he had been working on the translations. Sam didn't know when he had dozed off or for how long but he realized he had done only a little bit of work before that.
"You okay?" Dean asked.
Sam yawned and stretched his arms over his head. "Just took a cat-nap," he said as if it were nothing. "What did you find out?"
Dean eyed Sam suspiciously before pulling out a chair and sitting down. He took off his jacket and glanced at what Sam had been working on. After the last talk he and Sam had and then after talking with Emerson for himself, Dean wondered about his brother's well being. "Looks like it was more than a cat-nap, Sammy," he said, pointing to the paper. He could tell Sam hadn't gotten much done since he left.
Sam rolled his eyes a bit and turned in his chair to face Dean. "Let's not argue about this," he said. "Not when we're so close."
Dean sighed and nodded. "Well, she told me she thinks she remembers the guy her mom might have worked with on those papers. He was Scottish and a little weird but a decent enough guy."
"Doesn't sound like anyone Dad ever worked with."
Dean nodded, still watching Sam carefully. "She might have been running in different circles than Dad did," he agreed. "Anyway, Emerson doesn't think this guy took the book but I guess her mom had a different idea."
"Another dead-end," Sam muttered. He looked at the paper and pushed it towards Dean. All of the Latin writing was put together neatly and Sam had begun going through different possibilities for translations but in all honesty, he was stuck.
Dean looked at the page and sighed. "Sam, I think she's right," he softly said.
His little brother looked up at him, confused. "What are you talking about?"
"I think we need to leave here soon," he continued. "I'm going to stop by the garage tomorrow to see if the car's ready. If it is, I'm sorry, Sam, but we're leaving."
Sam scoffed and shook his head. "We can't. We're too close. We've got this, Dean."
"That's the problem, Sam. We're too close. You're too close. You don't normally take naps in the middle of investigations. I come back and find you've been sleeping. I could hardly wake you up this morning. It's not normal, man."
Sam shook his head, running the fingers of both of his hands through his dark hair and scratching his head. He locked his fingers behind his head and sighed, closing his eyes. He didn't want to consider the possibility that something was happening to him. "You can't be serious."
"I am, Sam. We're leaving as soon as the car is ready. I'm not going to have you end up in a coma or something because of this."
Sam turned his attention back to the translation. The words seemed to be a blur and he could feel himself wanting nothing more than to climb into bed and sleep. He rubbed his eyes, hoping to rid himself of the feeling but it wouldn't go away. "I'm not leaving here until we figure this out."
"I'm not going to lose you because of something this stupid," Dean replied. He was raising his voice now, frustrated with his brother's stubbornness. "Damn it, Sammy. For once don't be so stubborn about something like this. She's got this. When we're gone, she'll take care of it."
Sam eyed Dean now. "What are you talking about?"
"I told her a little bit about what we found out," he explained. "She wants to destroy this thing more than we do."
"But she said ..."
Dean shrugged. That had been his first thought as well, but the look in Emerson's eyes had told Dean not to argue. There was no way he could convey that to Sam but he knew how his brother felt. "I don't want to have to leave this to her either, Sam, but we can't help her any more than we already have. You can't help her. This thing is targeting you now. If we try going up against it, it might kill you."