Every little piece they got from Sam just gave them even more questions that had answers they weren't able to get.

John had actually left the dungeon long enough to talk to Bobby to let him know of the progress, or lack thereof. Bobby was also going to look into those other kids that Sam had mentioned to find...something, he wasn't sure what and he didn't really care.

He sat on the ground, back against the wall, just staring at his brother on the cot. Sam stared back at him easily, seemingly not blinking.

So apparently, Azazel wanted a human kid with psychic powers to be the one to lead Hell, to lead the army of demons on a raze on earth and humanity.

Dean wanted to believe that no human would be willing to do that, to go so far as to throw themselves into Hell and turn their back on their own kind.

He just also knew not to have that much faith in people, plenty would jump at the chance to do so.

And Sam, where exactly did Sam fall into all of this? If Azazel had sent him out to test those other 'special children', wasn't Sam also considered that? Didn't he fall under the category of 'special children'? So why do what they did?

What was the point in breaking Sam like this?

"Sam." he said lowly, getting his brothers attention on him immediately. Sam narrowed his eyes but listened. "You're looking for the one to lead Hell."

Looking suspicious, Sam slowly nodded, not moving his gaze away from him.

"Well what about you, why aren't you the one to lead Hell?" he asked, hating the question but needing to get more answers from Sam.

Sam looked troubled at that, even turning his head away from Dean to stare at the wall instead. "Can't." he croaked out.

"Why not? You're a special kid, you got the mojo." Dean said, waving his hand. "Why can't you be the one to lead Hell?"

Sam shifted on the bed, the chains around him rattling as he moved. He had struck a nerve Dean realized, he had finally struck something else important and Sam didn't like it.

For once during this entire time he felt like he was a bit more control and Sam wasn't.

"Why can't you lead Hell Sam?" he repeated.

A small sound escaped Sam, it almost sounded like a whimper, and he shook his head, not looking at Dean at all.

There was one way that Sam responded now and as much as he hated it, Dean stood up and crossed the room to the cot. Sam tried to scramble back but the chains kept him in place so that Dean could reach out and gripped at his chin tightly.

He ignored the sounds that Sam made and forced his head up to look him in the eyes, not letting go of his brother no matter how much he tried to wiggle free.

"Why can't you lead Hell Sam?" he repeated once more, voice low and almost dangerous.

Sam whined and Dean could feel him shake in his grip. He wanted to comfort him but it would just end up breaking whatever progress he had made so far, so he pushed that instinct down.

"Bad." Sam finally whispered. "Bad. Can't lead."

"What's bad?" Dean sacked. "Leading Hell?"

Sam shook his head as best as he could in Deans grip, eyes lowering slightly. "Me. Bad." he whispered.

Dean felt himself soften slightly at that but tried to make sure that it didn't show. "What makes you bad?"

"Trick." Sam whispered. "Trick Father. Bad."

Dean wasn't sure what to make of what Sam had said until he managed to connect the dots, lips parted slightly in realization.

They had sent Sam with a fake Colt to trick the demons and knock them off of their track. They thought that Dean and John would be able to go after Azazel but the end result was that Sam was taken, the fake Colt was proven to be fake, and Azazel had disappeared.

And took Sam along with him.

"Sam, what did the demons do to you once you were bad?" Dean asked carefully, not wanting the answer.

Sam gave a full body shudder at that, closing his eyes tightly. Maybe it was his imagination but he could almost see the tears in his eyes that were squeezing past the closed lids.

Giving into instinct he finally let go of Sam's chin and wrapped his arms around him instead, holding him close. He could almost feel Sam's confusion at the gesture, as if he didn't remember what it was.

"You're not bad Sammy." he whispered. "You're good, really good. And you didn't deserve whatever the demons did to you."

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