As much as Dean had wanted to avoid it they ultimately had no choice but to stay in the bunker. Thankfully, there had been a rumor of Michael's whereabouts the previous day and all of the apocalypse worlders were either out on that search or on separate hunts of their own. Knowing that the infirmary itself would not be secure enough, they had moved a bed and some other supplies into the dungeon. The more Dean had thought about it over the years, the more it sickened him that they had locked Sam in the panic room with nothing, with barely enough food and water, and made him suffer through the detox alone. It was going to be different this time.

They still had to restrain him, both for his safety and for theirs, but Dean had decided that there would be someone in the room with him at all times. They would take it in shifts. One person would sit with Sam, one person would scour the bunker for anywhere that Sam may have stashed demon blood, and one person would do their best to distract Jack and stop him from asking too many questions.

Once he was locked down, Sam begged them to not tell Jack what was going on. Dean and Cas had agreed, not only for Sam's sake but for Jack's as well. Jack looked up to, depended on, and respected Sam. No one wanted to jeopardize the bond between them. They hadn't, however, found a good way to get Jack out of the bunker. He wasn't ready to hunt on his own or to go out on a mission against Michael, and there wasn't anything else that would keep him out of the bunker without being too suspicious. So, instead, Mary took the first shift in trying to stall him.

The questions came as soon as Jack's mouth could form the words. "what is going on? Why can't I see him?"

"Jack, Sam is not feeling well right now and you are going to need to leave him alone until he is better. Okay?" That was the best lie Mary wanted to come up with.

"But… is he okay? Cas is with him. Isn't there anything I can do to help?"

"Jack, Sam is… like I said, Sam isn't well right now and he isn't himself. He doesn't want you to see him like that and we need to respect his decision okay?"

Jack still didn't seem satisfied with that answer but he didn't push any further at the moment.

Meanwhile, Cas was taking the first shift in staying in the dungeon with Sam. They hadn't been able to convince Sam that he needed to detox so Cas had knocked him out for a few minutes, just long enough to get him cuffed to the bed. But now he was awake, lying tied down to a bed, while the early symptoms of withdrawal began. For now, Sam was merely starting to feel uncomfortable. He was squirming as much as the restraints would allow. Cas looked on, disgusted with his friend.

"Sam, what happened? Why would you start doing this to yourself again? I know you remember how painful it was last time, not only for you but for your family that had to watch as you barely survived it. Why would you do this?"

At this point, Sam knew he wouldn't be able to avoid the question. They would keep pressing until he explained. "It wasn't like that." He said. "I didn't just… When we had to rescue you in Detroit we would have all gotten killed by those demons… mom… and Jack… I couldn't let the demons kill them and there were too many. There was only one way to stop them Cas."

Cas didn't respond to that as he contemplated it. He wasn't sure if Sam was trying to guilt him with that comment, but he did believe that that was when Sam started again. They had been seconds away from being totally overrun by demons. If there was ever a time that Sam thought he could justify needing his powers again, that would have been it.

Neither Cas nor Sam said anything after that, but it wasn't long before some of the more severe symptoms set in.

By the time Sam started screaming, it was Dean's shift to stay with Jack. As soon as he heard it Jack took off toward the dungeon and Dean barely caught him in time to stop him from going in.

"Dean, what are you doing? He… I can hear him he needs help. Why-"

"Jack listen to me. I know how this seems but we cannot go in there right now. Mom is with him right now; he is going to be fine." He actually wasn't sure if that was true. Sam had barely survived the detox last time and Dean was all too aware of the fact that there was a chance he wouldn't survive this time. But telling Jack that bit of information wasn't going to help anything. "You cannot go in there no matter what you hear. This whole process is going to take a few days and you might hear some bad stuff, but you have to promise me that you will not go in that room."

"But I… Why won't you tell me what is going on? And don't tell me he is sick, I can hear him screaming, he is in pain. What is going on?" Jack was clearly angry. And he was also smart. He wasn't going to accept any lie or cover they came up with and he knew there was something more going on. But Dean wasn't going to cave. If Sam decided he wanted to tell Jack he could do so himself when this whole ordeal was over.

"Jack please listen. You are going to have to trust us okay? Sam will get better in a few days, but until then I need you to promise me that you won't go in there."

Defeated, Jack promised not to go into the dungeon but he persisted with his questions. "Fine, I won't go in I promise, but why can't you tell me why? If it is so bad I should help. Can't I do something?"

"Jack, if there is anything you can do I promise I will let you know. Look I know you're smart, so I know you know that Sam isn't just sick. Something else is going on but please don't ask me what it is, because it isn't my place to tell you. When this is over, you are going to have to ask Sam about it." Dean paused for a second and looked at Jack to make sure his message sank in. He had another thought. "You know what? There is something you can help with. Sam is going to need to eat, and with the state he is in right now we are probably going to want to stick to soup. How about you come help me make some in the kitchen okay?"

Jack still wasn't satisfied with the answers he was getting, but at least now he had something to do. He followed Dean into the kitchen.

Cas was searching for blood around the bunker. They had already searched Sam's room and had ridded it of 6 jars of blood. Dean had searched thoroughly, everything short of tearing down the walls. Confident that Sam's bedroom was cleared, Cas was now searching for demon blood in the lower storage rooms where they usually only kept spell ingredients. Upon searching through their stores, he realized he was going to have to check every jar that was labeled with any kind of blood. They kept stocks of virgin blood and blessed blood for spell work, lamb's blood for killing djinn, and so on.

Once Cas was sure he had gotten every jar that could possibly be blood he laid them out on the table. He decided the quickest way to test all the blood would be to taste them himself. As an angel, he was not susceptible to the effects of any supernatural blood, and he would be able to taste the difference with only a drop in his mouth. One by one, he opened the jars, dabbed his finger into the red liquids, and gave them each a quick taste. He was glad he had decided to test all of the jars. There were several labeled incorrectly. Sam, as Cas had assumed, must have thought he could hide stocks of his drug under the guise of a useful ingredient.

By the time he was finished, Cas was disgusted with how many jars of blood he had found in just this room, and he knew there were still several areas to search. Having completed this room, he went into the kitchen to dump the jars down the drain. He didn't know that Dean and Jack would be in there when he entered.

Dean looked up briefly from the pot on the stove when Castiel walked in holding all the jars he had found. "How much did you find?" He asked.

"There were eight jars in the lower stores. That's fourteen total so far. I'm not even sure how he could have gotten this much."

"Is that blood?" Jack interrupted.

Dean and Cas exchanged a quick glance. "Yes it is," Cas responded. Cas knew he wasn't a very good liar and he could come up with a way to divert Jack's question.

"Why do you have blood?"

"Because… Well, I am getting rid of it." With that, he walked over to the sink and began emptying the jars down the drain.

"Why?"

Dean interjected, "Jack, keep an eye on the soup. Don't let it boil over." The soup was indeed boiling dangerously close to the edge of the pot. Jack had been distracted by Castiel and the blood.

"Right. Sorry. But why are you getting rid of blood? Sam said he needed it to find Michael."

Neither Dean nor Cas was expecting that. They had figured Sam would have been more careful about letting Jack see him with the blood. They exchanged another quick glance. "What exactly did he say about the blood Jack?"

"Well, not a lot really. He was carrying a jar of it and I asked him what it was for. He said he needed it so he could find you. It's lamb's blood, isn't it? From the basement?"

"It isn't lamb's blood," Cas said before Dean had the chance to respond. Dean shot Cas an annoyed look before turning back toward Jack.

"Jack, from now on, if you ever see Sam carrying blood, in jars or in a flask or whatever, you need to come tell me or Cas about it. Okay?"

"…why?" Jack was suspicious and Dean couldn't blame him. He would be suspicious of them right now too. But it was important that Jack be aware of this.

"Because… look just… I can't really explain it. Just please come and tell us if you ever see him with blood."

"Okay. But I wish you guys would tell me what is going on."

"Let's just focus on the soup right now alright?" Dean was getting tired of answering the same questions and he did not enjoy keeping things from Jack. He needed to get them both re-focused on the task at hand.

Cas finished emptying and cleaning the jars and left the room to go continue his search.

It was over a day later and it was once again Dean's turn to stay in the dungeon with Sam. They were at the peak of the process and Sam had been hallucinating for the past few hours or so. At first, Dean wanted to decipher exactly what Sam was seeing but Sam's shouts and mumbles at shadows hadn't been coherent enough to get much information from.

Right now, it seemed he was being accused by… something. Or someone.

"No. I didn't… It wasn't like that. I didn't know it was real… I didn't know she would die."

Theoretically, there were a few people Sam could have been talking about, but Dean knew he meant Jessica. Deep down, Sam had never forgiven himself for what happened to her and Dean knew it.

He decided to intervene. "Sammy. What you're seeing isn't real. It's just me and you in here." Sam did not acknowledge Dean in the slightest. He tried again, this time putting his hand on his brother's wrist. "Sam look at me. It isn't real. And what happened to Jessica wasn't your fault."

Sam didn't say anything after that, but he didn't calm down at all either. He was still obviously agitated and nothing Dead did seemed to get through to him at all. After a few minutes, he gave up and decided to just sit with him quietly and wait it out.

Dean wanted to be angry with his little brother. He really did. How could Sam do this? How could he, after all these years, do this to himself again? But as much as Dean wanted to be angry, he found that it was trumped by sadness and fear. Every time his brother screamed through a hallucination all he felt was sad that his brother had to endure something so terrible and fear that he wouldn't survive it.

"I'm right here Sammy. It'll be okay."