His mouth curved to add to the bored air he jokingly mustered. This was something - although a commonly maddening part of the product that was Sam – that he habitually neglected: the way College Boy would echo his processes, create an invisible flow chart of piling ideas, higher and higher until it reached a conclusion or dead end. Frankly, Dean didn't possess material considered worthy enough to pop his brother's thought bubbles, so he kept cool and sighed, nodding as he heeded identical reflections of his first thoughts on the Institute. The guy needed to think aloud, for fear that his face exploded from suppression.

A hint that external contribution was required.

"What?"