Disclaimer: Supernaturalcharacters and storyline are property of Eric Kripke and associated publishers/licensers.

Turning around to face Sam, he watched his brother pierce his skin with a sowing needle.

'You almost done?' asked Dean hopefully.

'I'm going as fast as I can,' retorted Sam in a breathless voice.

'Good cause you know I've got a dislocated shoulder over here.'

Dean takes a mouthful of whiskey to dull the pain of his throbbing arm. Sammy's response was lost to him with the sound of the liquid hitting the back of his throat. Passing the bottle, Dean watched as Sam poured the alcohol onto his stitches, biting his lips in pain.

Dean tried not to think too much about his Sammy being in pain and quickly tried to take his mind off it.

'So you lost the magic knife did you?'

'Yeah, saving your ass.' snapped back Sam. Sighing in frustation Sam looked at Dean expectantly, 'Who was that demon?'

'No one good' answered Dean trying to dodge the question. His heart was pounding from the searching look on Sam's face. He was dizzy with pain and couldn't think clearly. Now was not the time for Sam to be delving into the situation. Dean had to figure out something to tell him yet, something other than the truth.

'Alright, come on,' groaned Sam as he lifted himself from the bed and moved behind Dean. They position themselves to pop Dean's shoulder back in.

Dean's stomach tightened with anticipation. This was not going to be fun.

'On three, one…'

Without warning Sam snapped Dean's shoulder back into place. Pain shot up through Dean and into his brain causing him to wrap his arms around his head for a moment as he stumbled back into the bathroom.

Sam's penetrating eyes followed Dean. He could tell when Dean was hiding something. He saw it in the flicker of Dean's eyes when he mentioned the demon from the church and the way he quickly brought the topic back to Sam loosing the knife. Something wasn't right with this situation and Sam wasn't going to be fobbed off so easily, not when it involved his brother. Sam was tired of not being in control, tired of Dean taking charge, making decisions without consulting him, even if was just avoiding a question. If this demon knew of Dean then Sam had to protect him. It was obvious that the demon from the church was one mean son of a bitch. Sam was sure he even heard Dean name the demon in recognition while fighting it. They had then jumped out of the window and he hadn't had a chance to think about it since. Now alone in the dingy motel room they had rented he had his chance to confront Dean. No amount of vague answers where going to get Dean out of discussing this.

'Dean, about that demon,' started Sam uncertainly. 'Who was he really because I know you know'. Sam kept his voice to a concerned whisper. He didn't want to put Dean on the defensive. He just wanted to be part of what was going on with his brother. The months spent apart had nearly been too much for him.

Dean's head snapped up and Sam could see his eyes go a little wild. Like he was searching for an escape route. Pity swelled inside his chest for his older brother. This was obviously something Dean didnt want to talk about and Sam knew how hard it was for his brother to confront emotions. He resisted the urge to embrace his brother and tell him everything was going to be okay. Dean Winchester does not do chick flick moments and Sam would only end up feeling mortified.

'Come on man, just spit it out. I'm not going to accept your vague answers this time'

Dean could see the stubborn look on Sam's face. The kind of look a dog gets when it won't drop the bone. Suddenly his headache came back in full force. Dean chugged back the whiskey trying to numb any and all feeling in him. He couldn't talk about hell just now. Not to Sammy. Dean met Sam's eyes for the first time all evening. Worry creases outlined them and made his brother look older. Dean knew he didnt stand a chance against Sam's persistant questioning and he groaned in defeat.

'Okay Sammy, but I don't think you want to hear this.'

Rolling his eyes, Sam gave Dean a pointed stare 'Try me'

Not sure what he was even going to say or admit to, Dean took a shallow breath and started talking, his voice sounding brittle.

'Alistair is a demon who knows me from hell...'

Suddenly Sam wasn't so sure whether he was prepared to hear the story Dean had been hiding.