Dean looked at the mansion. He had waited until midnight and now he was going to sneak in and find Sam. He crept through the door. He was surprised that there didn't seem to be any guards around. Why hadn't Sam escaped. Dean was afraid that Castiel hadn't left any guards because Sam was too weak to escape. With that thought, Dean rushed to the nearest door and opened it.

"Dean?" Sam asked. He had been trying to get to sleep, but all he could think was that he wanted blood and that he wasn't going to get any more.

"Is Castiel still here?" he asked. He had only used his full name since he had found out the truth about him. Cas had been a name for a friend.

"I don't think so," Sam said as he struggled to sit up.

Dean rushed over to him and helped him stand. "We need to get out of here."

"I can't."

"Why not?" If Sam wanted to stay so he could drink tons of demon blood, Dean was going to kill him.

"The place is rigged so that nobody with demon blood can get in or out. Believe me, I've tried," Sam said.

"What happens when you try?" Dean asked. He had never really understood how devil's traps and salt lines worked, he just knew they did. This was probably the same idea.

"I'm thrown back, like something is pushing me and I get this burning sensation all along my skin," Sam shuddered, remembering the last time he had tried. He had passed out and Castiel had laughed at him when he gotten back with his "breakfast."

"Maybe if I push you through?" Dean asked. He didn't want to hurt Sam, but they had to get out.

"I guess it's worth a try," Sam agreed. If he couldn't get out, he was screwed anyway. Then he realized he was screwed either way. He was going to be just as much of an addict on the outside and he knew that he had consumed too much. If his eyes had gone black when he had killed Lillith, they probably would now, too. He wouldn't be surprised if he had typical demon reactions to salt and was trapped by devil's traps, even though he never had been before.

Dean was leading him to the door. "Wait," Sam said, when they got there.

"What?" Dean asked.

Sam took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He took another breath. "OK," he said. He just needed to feel like he was taking control of the situation. He had been a prisoner for so long. He realized he didn't know for how long. "Wait, how long has it been?" he asked.

"Six weeks."

Sam nodded. Somehow that seemed about right. Dean pushed at Sam, but the minute he hit the edge he was thrown back, shoving Dean down as he went. He moaned at the burning. Dean had broken his fall, though, so that was helpful.

"Sorry," he said.

"Crap, how are we going to get you out of here?"

"You're not," Castiel said, as they heard his telltale fluttering of wings.

"I thought you were my friend," Dean growled.

"Well, that's what you get for thinking. I've heard it's not your strong suit."

"By the way, Castiel, I borrowed something from a mutual friend of ours." Dean pulled out a sword and plunged it into Castiel before he had time to react. White light flooded from his eyes and he collapsed onto a black set of wings on the floor. "Gabriel says 'hi.'"

"Still can't get out," Sam said.

"Sure you can," Gabriel said as he popped in.

"Why couldn't you just kill him yourself?" Dean asked.

"I could have, but he's been messing with you for over a year and look at what he's done to your brother. Just figured you would want the pleasure."

"Good point," Dean responded.

Gabriel laid his hands on Sam and cleaned the demon blood out of him. "There's still some in him, but the rest of the detox shouldn't be too bad. I'll zap him to Bobby's for you."

"You can do that? I didn't think he could get out of here?"

"Only with angelic assistance. Ready, Sam?"

Sam nodded. The next thing he knew, he was in the panic room.

"Thanks," Dean said to Gabriel.

"Don't mention it. I hate it when rogue angels give us a bad name. Want me to zap you, too."

"Naw, my car's outside."

SSS

Two days later

Dean arrived back at Bobby's and ran in the house. "Is Sam OK?"

"How the hell would I know? I've heard him yelling, but I can't exactly get down there," Bobby pointed out.

"Crap, I didn't even think of that." He ran down to make sure Sam was OK.

"Are you OK?"

"I'm hungry and thirsty," Sam said. "Other than that, I think I'm good. I don't want blood at all. But the last couple of days were kind of rough."

Dean was majorly pissed at himself for putting the car before Sam. "Well, come on out," he said and opened the door. Sam leaned on him as Dean helped him up the stairs. Sam's weight felt just right to Dean and Dean's support felt just right to Sam.

The End