Title: You have Got to Believe Me.

Author: Moody Writer.

Summary: Tag to 5x14 My Bloody Valentine. My alternative version of what should have happened and how Dean should have reacted when Sam told him he was hungry for demon blood. Mean!Dean. One-shot.

Warnings: None.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the plot. No profit is being made out of this story. I just wrote it for fun and that's all.

A/N: I'm in a mood for writing these days. lol I kinda like it when Dean is harsh with Sam so I had to write this one. By the way, this story is not beta-ed so all the errors are mine. Feel free to point out any slightest mistake, whatever it was. Constructive criticism's always appreciated. Enjoy!

"I think it got to me, Dean," Sam said, "I think I'm hungry for it."

"Hungry for what?"

"You know what."

A moment of realization. "Demon blood?" Dean said through clenched teeth, in a low, deadly voice.

Sam hung his head low, studying the floor, ashamed. He kind of expected Dean to give him the disgusted, angry look that he was giving him right now, and yet it hurt to see.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Dean exclaimed incredulously.

The last thing he wished was for his brother to go back to drink freaking demon blood. He paced around the room impatiently, trying to fully absorb what he had just heard. He felt boiling inside with anger. All the awful and poignant images of Ruby and his baby brother joining her to do their dirty job flashed back in his memory, running vividly against his wish. The room went dead silent. The only sounds heard were of Dean's mad footsteps banging on the floor beneath and the sound of the uncontrolled, fierce breaths escaping his lips.

Sam didn't know what to say. He felt ashamed as hell for not being able to control this, for wanting to drink demon blood, for still having the desire, somewhere deep inside him, to drink demon blood. He thought this was already tucked in the layers of the past, he thought he had gotten rid of it for good, but apparently, he was wrong.

Castiel stood there emotionless, watching every reaction written on Dean's features. He knew Dean was very angry at the moment so he thought it would be better to remain quiet and give Dean some time to calm down first before he said anything.

"Of course you would be hungry for demon blood," Dean blurted out of nowhere, "You've wanted it all along, haven't you, Sam? You still want to suck those sons of bitches' filthy blood," he said fervently.

Sam drifted his gaze up, hurt and shocked to hear Dean say that. He knew Dean was right, knew that Dean's harsh words held some truth, nevertheless; he didn't expect Dean to say that out loud. Sam swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I did not want this, Dean." Dean shot Sam a warning glare. "I mean, yes, part of me wanted to drink demon blood, but, believe me, greater part of me didn't."

Dean paced farther away from the two men, his face taking on a slight shade of red. He rubbed his face with his hand vehemently.

"You still wanted it so it doesn't make any difference. Have you been drinking behind my back?" Dean asked roughly.

Sam stared at him in astonishment. "What? Dean, no." Sam meant for his answer to sound strong, but it came out weak and shaky.

Dean kept glaring at his brother, scrutinizing Sam's eyes and searching for some truth behind them, but was too angry to find any.

"No, Dean, I haven't!" Sam exclaimed desperately. All this felt like a nightmare to him. He did not want to go over trust issue again. Dean obviously still didn't trust him and being refreshed by the painful fact, it stabbed his heart like if someone had plunged a dagger into his heart. It wasn't like Sam didn't know that Dean didn't trust him, but it had been a while since Dean had questioned his loyalty, a fairly long period of time that Sam kind of let his subconscious believe otherwise, believe that he had gained Dean's trust back starting from the moment of their reunion after spending some time apart.

"You have got to believe me," Sam emphasized each word intensively as if his life was dependant on by doing this. He stared right in Dean's eyes.

Dean scoffed. "I've seen the result of that, so I'd rather not fall into the same mistake twice." and turned his back to Sam.

Sam felt sore inside, completely torn apart. His face fell and he blinked a couple of times to force the damn tears back.

"I would never lie to you again, Dean," Sam said in a small voice, "I swore not to do that again."

Dean pursed his lips together. A low grunt coming from the deep of his throat.

"It's not his fault, Dean," Castiel intruded for the first time.

Dean spun around to face the angel. "Cas, stay out of this, would you?" Dean wasn't yelling, but his voice was still intense and sharp.

"It's not his fault, Dean," Castiel repeated in his usual, steady voice, "He's only human and humans are bound to make mistakes. You have to learn to be more forgiving."

"Why don't you teach him some ethics, huh?" Dean pointed a finger at Sam.

Castiel turned his blue eyes to Sam, who was fidgeting in his place and flipping the washcloth between his hands in nervousness and misery, studying the floor the whole time.

"We need to focus on the problem, Dean. It would do you no good to cry over the past now. You need to help your brother before it's too late." Castiel reasoned calmly.

Dean took a moment to think and then rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"OK. But there's one thing I need to do first." Dean turned around and went to his duffle bag that rested on his bed. He dug through its contents and pulled out handcuffs. He marched toward Sam, grabbed his right wrist tightly and pulled him roughly inside the bathroom. Sam winced lightly in response. He was confused, but followed anyway.

When they were near the sink, where Dean wanted Sam to be, he ordered his little brother to sit on the cold floor.

Realization finally dawning on him, Sam questioned, "You are going to lock me down, aren't you?"

"Damn right I am, unless you have a better idea." Dean waited a few seconds, locking his eyes with Sam's. Sam wondered if his big brother felt sorry for having to do this to him, but he couldn't tell because all he saw there was cold, steal-like expression. Sam sighed in defeat.

"That's what I thought," Dean said.

Sam crawled down and held his arms up. Dean cuffed Sam's hands securely to the cold metal and stood up to leave.

"Dean!"

Dean turned to face his little brother, the cold expression still on.

"I'm sorry," Sam began softly, "Didn't mean to upset you. Cut that bastard's finger off, but please, hurry."

It was then when Dean felt a twinge of guilt inside him. His expression softened a little, and then he nodded once. He hesitated at the door, but then went toward Sam again, crouched down in front of him and held Sam's right shoulder.

"You hold on tight, buddy, OK?" Sam nodded. "You are stronger than this. You can do it, Sammy," Dean encouraged, squeezing Sam's shoulder.

Sam smiled and nodded again. He felt a little relieved and happier after hearing those familiar words. That was what he needed right now to help him get through this torture. He would keep replaying the words in his head again and again until all this was over.

Dean squeezed one more time before heading outside and closing the door behind him.

The End

A/N: So, what do you think?