The library was one of the few places the ghosts didn't chatter at Sam. Since he couldn't answer without speaking aloud, and Illyana didn't care for noise in the library, they'd learned not to try to follow him in there.

Relieved to have some time to himself but less than interested in his own thoughts, he went to get another cup of coffee and to dig around for anything to complement the Enochian teleportation sigils he'd been working on.

He found a text he hadn't seen in several months--which meant one of the sorceresses or wizards had been at it--and drew it out to take to his usual table. So lost in his thoughts about witches, wizards, sorceresses, and whatever he was now, Sam didn't see Percy until he'd already pulled out a chair. And when he did, there was something awkward about how he was holding his arms.

"Hey Percy," he said quietly. "What's wrong with your--oh." He blinked, his eyes widening when he released the straps around his chest weren't bandages but a baby. Dean would be next, he couldn't help thinking, before he remembered to smile and offer, "Congratulations. How's Vex doing?" You were supposed to ask after the mother when a child was born, right?