Naomi looked both thoughtful and confused. Her eyes were peering down at the floor as if there might be some kind of answer there.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean challenged.
When she didn't answer, Dean spoke again, his voice more firm, his tone accusing. "Whose, Naomi?" he barked. "Whose memories are inside my freakin' head? What the hell did you do to us?" He spat the words venomously, expression furious.
Naomi's attention was turned away. She acted like she didn't hear him. "I don't understand," she said to herself.
Dean worked furiously at his restraints, aching to be free.
Then quickly, Naomi turned to Dean. The hunter let his hands fall limply, stopping his struggle, glaring at her. Naomi surveyed him curiously as if the answer might present itself to her. She leaned over the hunter, her eyes scanning him intently. Suddenly, her gaze halted. She peered at Dean's shoulder through his shirt, eyebrows raising. Dean's heartbeat increased, as his breath sped up. She slowly reached a hand up to him, fingers finding the hem of his sleeve.
Dean leaned away, agitated, pulling furiously at his restraints, his wrists beginning to bleed from the friction against the rough material. "What are you doing?" he shouted, frantically. "Don't!"
But Naomi pulled at the fabric revealing the red scar tissue of Cas's hand print. Dean squirmed in the chair, but Naomi didn't seem to notice.
"Oh my. . ." she whispered, lifting her hand to place it over the print, turning it to match the outline. Dean felt his skin crawl as he watched her reach towards him, her gaze intense.
But, before she could touch his skin, Dean spit on her face, stopping her. Surprised, Naomi pulled her hand back, slowly wiping off Dean's saliva. She furrowed her brows, seemingly analyzing their curious exchange, and Dean's hostile response. She waited for a moment, before smiling slightly.
"I apologize," she said lightly, pulling Dean's sleeve back down over his scar. She made no further move to touch him, or question him. Instead, unexpectedly, she removed Dean's restraints, allowing him to get up in the chair.
Tentatively, he sat up and rubbed at his raw and bruising wrists, eyeing Naomi cautiously. She smiled wider, her gaze consuming. "Come with me, Dean," she stated. "Cas will be here soon."