Dean stood by the door with his shotgun, keeping an eye on the hallway, and on Sam and Chloe as they sifted through documents looking for clues as to where the asylum inmates were buried. He didn’t want the spirit to show up behind their backs, and he also didn’t mind having the chance to study Chloe, whose back was currently facing him as she bent over a steel box, sorting through the papers inside.  He had been surprised by her acceptance of his innocence, that she believed him over the FBI, when any sane person would have picked up the phone and had a SWAT team on his ass within minutes. He was still suspicious of her intentions, and he did not think that she had just “happened” to come across them scaling the fence around the asylum. Clearly, she had spent time researching him since their dinner in Lincoln, (and despite knowing what she had found, the fact that she hadn’t just forgot about him made him smirk a bit, stroking his bruised ego) and somehow managed to track them to Pueblo. However, despite his suspicions, he appreciated what he could tell was her honest belief in him. He’d never told Sam, but he hated that there were people out there whose only knowledge of him was the belief that he had killed their loved ones.