This one's an alternate version of "When the Levee Breaks"

25. Restraints

Dean and Bobby held Sam down as he thrashed through a seizure or whatever the hell was happening to his brother. Whatever it was, Dean was terrified. They'd come down to the panic room to find Sam being flung around by nothing while in the throws of whatever the demon blood was doing to him.

Bobby ripped off his belt and forced it between Sam's teeth so he couldn't bite his tongue off. "We're gonna have to tie him down. For his own safety," the older hunter said grimly. "Dean?"

Dean watched his brother, feeling helpless. He always knew what to do for his brother, but he had no freaking clue how to fix…this. He'd known quitting the demon blood cold turkey wouldn't be pleasant, but he hadn't expected the violent seizures and the hallucinations Dean had been listening to his brother suffer through the last few agonizing hours.

"Dean! You hearing me? Before he has another fit!"

Dean finally snapped out of his stupor, and swallowed hard, nodding.

"Yeah, yeah, let's just get it over with," he said, still struggling to keep Sam pinned to the ground. Tying him up was the last thing he wanted to do, but he knew it was only to keep Sam safe. Still, he didn't think it would do the kid any favors with all the hallucinations he was going through.

The fit finally eased up, so that Sam was just shuddering but at least not flailing and flying around the room anymore. Dean and Bobby took that opportunity to move Sam onto the small army cot. Dean stayed by his brother's side, a hand pressed firmly to his chest to keep him there, as Bobby went to grab the cuffs.

Dean felt sick to his stomach as Bobby attached the cuffs to the rails of the cot.

"Wait," he said, before they locked Sam's wrists in. He reached for a cloth on the workbench and ripped it in two, wrapping the pieces around Sam's wrists before Bobby fixed the handcuffs around them. It would ease the strain a little when Sam struggled and Dean knew it was too much to hope that he wouldn't be doing any of that.

Bobby locked his ankles down too and stood staring down at Sam with a grim expression. Dean glanced up at him from where he still knelt beside the cot.

"What are we gonna do?" he asked helplessly.

Bobby shook his head, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair. "Hell if I know. I don't have a clue what do to with this. About all we can do is let it burn itself out."

"And if it burns Sam out with it?" Dean demanded.

Bobby shrugged, just as helpless as Dean. "We'll hope for the best, but you know we can't give him anymore blood, Dean. That's not an option."

"I know," Dean grunted and stood to pull a chair over to the cot. "I'm gonna stay with him though."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"He's chained to a freaking bed, Bobby," Dean snapped. "Even if he goes into another fit, he's not gonna do anything to me. Besides, he shouldn't be alone right now."

Bobby nodded. "Okay, well, let me know if you need anything." He left the room and the heavy iron door shut behind him.

Dean watched Sam for a long time, monitored his breathing, which sometimes came in sharp bursts as if he were dreaming, his eyes sliding frantically beneath his eyelids. But he wasn't screaming anymore, so that was good at least. Sam still twitched and whimpered, though, looking he looked like he was in pain. Dean thought the demon blood must have been burning through him. He got up eventually and wet a cloth to press against Sam's sweat-slicked forehead. It may have done little to no good, but it made Dean feel better to have something to do.

Eventually Sam stirred and his eyes flickered open. He came awake groggily and tried to move his arms. It was then he noticed the restraints and his eyes flew wide. He tried to sit up, yanking on them frantically.

Dean leaned forward and grabbed his shoulder only to have Sam flinch away from him with a cut off cry.

"Sammy, it's me, you're okay," Dean tried.

"Let me go!" Sam cried, obviously not seeing Dean as he focused on yanking on the restraints.

"Sam, we had to," Dean tried to reason with him. "The demon blood was flinging you all around the room."

"You're not real," Sam moaned, yanking more forcefully against his chains. "These aren't either. It's just the demon blood messing with my head."

Dean leaned over and gripped Sam's wrist. "Sammy, they are real. So am I. You're not hallucinating right now, okay?"

Sam slumped back on the bed, closing his eyes. "Doesn't matter anyway," he murmured softly. "Dean thinks I'm a freak."

The words stabbed Dean right in the heart. He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "No, I don't, Sammy. I just…I'm worried. About you, about…this." He gestured to Sam lying on the cot. "I know you thought you had to do this, to defeat Lilith, but it's not the answer. You don't have to do this alone, Sam. We'll do it together."

But Sam shook his head again. "No we can't. You're not strong enough. Not anymore. Not after Hell."

Dean felt his stomach twist at his brother's words. Was he right? Maybe he was. He swallowed hard. "No, maybe I'm not, but look at you, Sammy. You really think you're strong enough to defeat her?"

A tear leaked from Sam's eye, and he yanked viciously at his cuffs, undoubtedly bruising his wrists despite the padding. "I have to! Let me out!"

Dean leaned forward and pressed his hands against Sam's shoulders, trying to get him to stop struggling. "Sammy, listen to me, I'm going to get you through this, and we're going to stop this thing together, okay? You don't need the demon blood to be strong."

Sam let out a sound of pain, writhing against Dean's hold. "It doesn't matter! You're not real! Just stop talking! Leave me alone!"

He turned his head aside and Dean swallowed hard, reaching out and gripping Sam's hand tightly. "Sammy, it's really me. I'm not gonna leave you, little brother. We're gonna get through this together."

More tears slid down Sam's face but he finally turned back around, eyes meeting Dean's for the first time.

"Dean? It's really you?" he asked shakily as if Dean would suddenly disappear.

Dean squeezed his hand hard enough to feel Sam's bones shift, but his brother needed the reassurance that he was there. "It's really me."

A multitude of emotions washed over Sam's face before he tentatively squeezed back, then held onto Dean's hand with a death grip. He tried to reach out with his other hand too, but the cuff stopped him.

"Can you take these off?" he pleaded. "Please, I don't…"

Dean bit his lip but shook his head. "Let's keep them on for a little longer, in case you have another fit, okay? It's to keep you from hurting yourself." Dean squeezed his hand again as Sam started to get a panicked look in his eye. "But I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna stay right here with you. And whatever you see, it's just crazy crap that the demon blood wants you to see, okay? It's not gonna hurt you. Especially with me here."

Sam finally relaxed again, and slumped against the cot, looking exhausted. He jerked his head in a nod. "Okay."

Dean smiled at him and reached out with his free hand to smooth the hair from Sam's sweaty forehead. "Just rest, Sammy. When you wake up we'll figure this out. Together."

Sam nodded again, his eyes drooping. Dean knew it wouldn't really be that easy. They had to save the freaking world, after all, but if they could at least reconcile their differences, then maybe, just maybe, they really would have a chance.