Dean didn't go back, he couldn't face their dad like this, covered in blood and more questions than answers.

He just stared down at his brother who just looked back up at him. Despite everything Sam almost had a look of innocence to him that made Dean's chest tighten and made everything a lot worse.

He tried to think things through, tried to think logically with all the facts, regardless of how much it made him want to throw up.

Sam had been with the demon that destroyed their family for three months. Somehow during those three months Sams mind had been broken bad enough that he was speaking like a child and claiming the demon as his father.

And somewhere in between the demon had been making Sam drink his blood. He had no idea what to what it would do but stare at Sam who, not that he was paying attention, had a tremor going through his body, he had to admit that it was acting almost like a drug.

The tremor, Sam clawing at himself to get to his own blood; blood that was most likely also tinged with that same demon blood. Like he had just been trying to get to that bit, just that part that made it…

For fucks sake it was exactly like the demon blood was a drug.

Slowly, against his will, his mind started to paint a picture. The demons getting Sam hooked on demon blood, using his addiction to their advantage, using it to make him both vulnerable and malleable to their liking.

He didn't do drugs, the worst he had done was pot a few times when he's skip high school classes. That was stopped when Sam found out and that was it. He had no idea what long term exposure to drugs would do to a person.

But this wasn't just a drug, it was demon blood. That in itself was a completely different category.

He didn't know what to do.

He didn't know how to handle this.

Was there anything he could even do?

Swallowing hard Dean turned towards the door, wanting to go upstairs almost as much as anything. He wanted to get their dad, didn't want to think about this anymore.

Instead he remained sitting where he was, right next to Sam, watching over him. It was a mixture of not wanting to leave his brother and not trusting his brother o be left alone.

Dean let out a deep breath, feeling incredibly weighed down. He stared down at Sam who was turning his head from side to side, stopping when their eyes connected.

Dean didn't have the energy to argue or say anything just staring at Sam as his mind tiredly tried to figure something that he could do.

For now this he supposed, for now all he could do was stay here with his brother and watch over him. When Sam gave a small whimper he got up and went back to the sink, filling the glass with water again and then rewetting the cloth.

If demon blood was like a drug then that meant that Sam was going through withdrawal, craving more demon blood and willing to do anything to get more of it.

That just made another picture in his head about what the demons had done to him but he firmly tried to push that thought out of his mind. He went back to the cot and helped Sam bring his head up enough to drink some of the water.

"You need to eat." he told him roughly. "You don't eat things are gonna get a lot worse."

There was no answer, of course there wasn't, but Dean wasn't as bothered about it anymore. That's what he told himself anyway.

He reached over and took the plate he had brought down with him, bringing it to them. Banana and peanut butter was probably a bit too much for Sams stomach, soup would be better. But getting soup meant going upstairs and preparing it, something that Dean had no desire to do.

So he took the sandwich apart as best as he could, swiping the cut up banana into the peanut butter and holding it to Sams mouth, pressing it against his lips when Sam didn't eat.

"For fucks sake just eat Sam." he all but growled. He hated how Sam flinched at the sudden rush of anger in his voice but it got the job done, he opened his mouth slightly and ate.

Slowly Dean fed him the rest of the pieces, trying to get as much of the peanut butter as he could from the bread. When he was done he put the plate to the side, using the cloth to wipe at his fingers.

Sam looked up at him between his bangs, a little bit of color had returned to his face after he ate, and gave a small almost pitiful sound. When he saw that Dean was looking at him he tugged at the handcuffs around his wrist, an almost whimpering sound escaping him.

Dean couldn't help himself from reaching out and flicking Sams forehead, it was an automatic reaction to when his little brother was being a little shit.

"No." he told him. "I'm not even close to letting you out."

Sam gave another small, pained whimper as he continued to tug at the handcuffs, blinking his doe eyes at him pitifully.

Damn it that was the look that always got him the lucky charms.

Dean looked away, determined not to break this time. This time was different, before it was lucky charms, now Sam was a danger to both himself and everyone around him.

"You start talking and I'll start thinking about letting you get a bit of freedom." he muttered, standing up to go to the sink to wash his hands properly, freezing when he heard a raspy voice say,

"Dee."

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