Dean shut the door of his room behind him. The salt line was still there, untouched. He was thinking about better ways of warding things off than advertising that people who knew salt wasn't just a condiment were living inside the room he'd just come out of. There was a devil's trap under the welcome mat, of course. That might be enough.
He looked up when he heard the 'hey,' and saw Molly. Muscles worked on his jaw line, underneath his skin. He looked away from her, quickly, not eager to have another run-in like he'd had with Harry.