"Dean, what is wrong with you?"

Dean's green eyes pulled focus. "Huh? Nothing."

"Come on," Sam sat on his shitty hotel room bed and faced his brother. "You've been acting weird for days."

"Jesus, Sammy, I'm fine." Dean shot back. "We're done with this conversation." He slouched into his leather jacket. "God, it's cold in this friggin' room."

Sam shook his head ruefully. "That demon did something to you." He stated it as a fact. A certainty.

Dean felt his hackles rise. "Oh my god, are you deaf?" He stood up.

"Talk to me," Sam said patiently.

Dean sighed in defeat and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Look Sam, I woke up. I was tied on the floor."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And what?" Dean shrugged.

"She didn't talk to you? She didn't lay a finger on you? Nothing?" Sam's tone grew annoyed.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say she didn't touch me."

Sam looked confused. "Yes you did."

"I said she didn't hurt me."

His younger brother blinked, wrinkled his nose. "Huh?"

"She touched me plenty. And she talked a lot. Bullshit. Typical manipulative whore bullshit. That's the worst thing about demons. You can't shut them up."

Sam's mouth fell open and the apprehension that lit his face was almost comical. "Dean, she didn't... you know?"

"Huh?" It took Dean a moment to register what his brother was thinking and suddenly his anxious expression made sense. "God, No! Jesus, Sam."

"Men can be raped too, you know."

Dean tried on a cocky smile. "Can't rape the willing."

"That's... not... funny."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Why do you have to turn this creepy?"

"Because it is creepy! Tied down, being sexually assaulted by a demon-"

"I wasn't assaulted. Groped a little."

"Groped?" Sam threw up his hands. "Were you a willing participant in this?"

Dean shrugged, pursed his lips. "No, not really."

"What you're describing is sexual assault, Dean."

"Oh my God, Sam!" Dean leaned down toward his brother and met his eyes with an unwavering glare. "Look, I've got a lot of problems in my life. Being touched by a hot chick is not one of 'em."

Sam shook his head. "You're so broken. I can't even..."

"Oh, I'm broken?" Dean's ire was up "I'm supposed to be crying to a therapist that some banging chick grabbed my ass?"

Sam snorted. "It's not about just that... It's about context." His expression turned earnest. "She's messing with you. Forcing you to participate in something you normally love but making sure you're helpless and relinquishing your power. Making you feel torn about it. It's clearly bothering you."

"Whatever, Dr. Ruth." Dean rolled his eyes.

"I can't even talk to you. Why are you like this? Why won't you let anyone help you?" Sam stood up.

"I don't know...maybe it's faults in my foundation." Dean shot back.

"What?"

"Apparently I'm so broken- you figure it out. You seem to be the authority on ways I suck."

Sam shook his head and squared his shoulders towards the shorter man. "That's not fair."

Their eyes locked together for a moment.

"I never said you suck, Dean." Sam said stepping forward, hands on his hips in a silent gesture of challenge.

"Oh right. Broken. Yeah, that's better."

Sam made a frustrated grunt and ran his fingers through his shaggy brown hair. "See? This is what I mean." His brows knitted together. "I can't fix you. I can't help you-"

Dean turned on him suddenly. "Maybe I don't need to be fixed, Sammy!" The yell was vehement, as if he'd been holding back something for a long time. "Maybe this is me! My heart! My soul!" He tapped his chest. "Maybe I'm not broken it all, huh? Maybe this is just my personality. How I relate! Maybe it's what I gotta do to survive." His voice broke and he turned his head.

Sam took a physical step back from the intensity of Dean's tirade. His bafflement at the angry onslaught quickly gave way to compassion. "Dean," he said quietly. "Man... you hold everything in. I just want to help... I... god, man, I love you."

Dean looked at Sam's earnest expression. Uncertain about why his anger was being met with gentleness. It threw him off balance, made him feel oddly vulnerable. "Why, Sammy?"

Bafflement crossed Sam's handsome features again. "Are you kidding me?" His heart hurt for his brother. "Dean," he shook his head. Tears gathered in his eyes but didn't spill over. "You're my big brother."

Somehow the emotion in Sam caused Dean to reign in his own. His face became stoic, the green eyes more dispassionate. He swallowed hard and gave a small almost imperceptible nod. "I'm okay," he said. " 'M fine, Sam."

"It's not your fault, Dean."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

"Whatever happened to you. Whatever she did to you...said to you- it's not your fault."

Dean smirked a little. "Course it is. Handsome guy like me... I mean what dark succubus is gonna resist, you know?"

Sam closed his eyes defeatedly. "Right," he muttered, squeezing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Of course." He dropped his hands to his side and looked at Dean. "Okay, well-"

"Hey," Dean squared his shoulders. "I'm sorry. I know you're trying to help. Me being vague probably is making you think things are worse than they are... I jus-... she told me I was defective and you saying I'm broken set me off."

"They lie. Demons lie-"

"But it's the truth."

Sam looked hurt. "No..."

Dean held out a hand. "Shut up, Sammy."

Sam snapped his mouth shut and stood blinking at his older brother.

"She told me some stuff about myself and, uh, it's just been bothering me a little."

"That's why she said it," Sam replied. "It's all bullshit."

"You see though," Dean ducked his head and smiled slightly. The smile did not touch his eyes. "It's not." He snorted. "It was true and I just didn't want it to be."

He sounded defeated.

"You're not broken, Dean. You're the strongest person I know."

Dean looked at him warily, but said nothing.

"Do you want to tell me anything else? I'm here to listen. I don't know if I can help you but I can listen."

Dean shrugged noncommittally. "Nah."

Sam caught his eye. "I'm sorry it had to happen to you."

"I told you it's fine."

"I'm still sorry." Sam's expression was so honest. So understanding. So utterly genuine that Dean felt a shadow of pain swell in him at the intimacy of the moment.

"Yeah." Dean's gaze turned inward. "I'm sorry too." He walked to the bathroom and closed the door.