The thing is, John started appearing to his ever-bewildered and slightly skeptical yet loyal son more and more often, and every time he became visible in front of Dean, every time he arrived for a conversation, he seemed to become angrier and angrier. His visits got shorter too; their conversations no longer consisted of a father helping his son with a hunt so much a father getting cantankerous with his son and snapping at him to clear up his own messes, finish cases alone. In addition, John always departed with a phrase along the lines of 'Don't forget to protect Sammy', those words becoming more forceful each time. At first, Dean simply obeyed his father's orders and chose to stay ignorant of his irritable attitude; however he was getting ticked off with John's undesirable tone. It was no way for a dad to talk to his boy, plus Dean thought maybe he could help his dad – if it was a tangible (or intangible) problem, then they could talk it out. Despite their now evident differences, the young hunter was always 'here to help', and, after all, family always comes first. Therefore, one day in mid-April, Dean decided to confront John. However, as he prepared a summoning spell in the middle of an abandoned warehouse while Sam was sleeping in a motel room, his father beat him to it, materialising a few feet away before he had the chance to even begin pronouncing the first word of his Latin incantation. The relatives had long ago gotten past the point of debilitating greetings: John got right down to business.
"Dean. Did you really think I wouldn't find out?" The spirit was far more furious than usual, ugly antagonism mutilating his features. Profound terror and fear began flourishing deep within Dean as he caught the downright petrifying expression upon his father's face, even though he had no clue what had got John's pants in a twist.
"I… I don't understand- What are you talking about?"
"You know EXACTLY what I am talking about, son." John thundered, pallid lights sparking violently as he practically spat out the last word. Perceiving the look on Dean's face, he figured his son would be non-compliant if he didn't explain himself, therefore continued, his pure and distilled rage refusing to be quelled. "Sammy. The demon blood. He's completely addicted to the stuff and it's out of control! He's your brother, Dean. You're supposed to look out for him, which includes making sure he doesn't become a damn blood junkie!" More lights flickered and the obsolete ingredients of the summoning spell scattered across the room due to a strong wind whipping through the warehouse.
Despite the fact that Dean was well aware his dad's spirit was irrefutably livid, furthermore dangerous as hell, he couldn't just sit back and let himself be bossed about any longer. Sure, he was disappointed in himself for being unable to prevent his brother's downward spiral into almost inhumanity. Sure, he knew it was his job to keep watch over him. But his demanding father was the ultimate hypocrite for saying what he just said. And Dean couldn't keep quiet any longer.
"Yeah, I know full well that Sam is my responsibility. But you know what? You're our damn dad! So don't burden me with this whole stupid problem when you could be doing something about it too. You're a freaking spirit – surely you have more power than I do. Can't you just confront him and stop him from going down this… doomed path before he becomes completely screwed to hell instead of being the damn coward that you are?" The youngest Winchester in the room rapidly developed the desire to retract his words the second they leapt out of his mouth. He knew straight away that he had made a massive mistake by speaking to his father like that, especially with his ferocious undead temper. Utter silence smothered the two figures for a few moments, but it felt like eternity as they stared at each other so intensely, you'd have thought they'd have bored holes into each other's skulls. Eventually, John spoke up.
"Maybe you think of me as a coward." He began, his voice deadly calm. "But this is your mess to clear up, do you hear? Sammy is one hundred per cent your responsibility, so you will save him. There's still time yet. But if you can't… You still remember what I told you those couple years back just before I died, right?" Of course Dean remembered, but he chose to ignore his father's last comment, pushing the thought to the farthest, darkest corner of his mind and addressing another section of John's speech.
"I don't know how to do it, Dad." Probably the greatest hunter of his generation spoke in the voice of a small and desperately terrified child, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence. He coughed sharply and deliberately, clearing his throat and strengthening his tone for his next words. "I was gonna call Bobby, get him to help me lock Sam in the panic room as a detox kind of thing, but..."
"That old man can't help you." John interrupted in a harsh tone dripping with acid. The lost, hurt puppy look in his son's eyes caused him to continue his explanation. "You've got to understand, Bobby may be a half-decent hunter, but he's not family. You can't count on him like you can count on me and Sammy. That's why you've got to do this alone, Dean. This is your battle, so you will help your brother, and you will fight for him. Alone. I don't care how you do it, or what sacrifices you have to make, but you must save him. And I'm telling you now, son; there is no way I'm leaving until you get him back on the right track." The spirit's voice evolved from softer, to understanding, to threatening throughout his little soliloquy. After one more pointed look to strike fear into Dean's chest, John fizzled away, however the Winchester boy knew he was still watching. He would always be watching. Like John had said, he was not going to leave his son alone until he saved Sam and got him fully back to normal.