Dean pushed Sam aside as soon as the first leather strap was undone, hurrying to unrestrain himself the rest of the way. He all but lept up from the cot, putting his hands up and trying to take in his surroundings. One second he had been in a hell of his own mind, and now he was smack in the middle of the infirmary. The last time he had been conscious here, the world hurt a lot more and was spinning out of control.

The older hunter ran his hand over the splint, flexing his fingers, feeling no immediate pain. He didn't feel sick in the slightest. He felt a pull and next ran his fingers over the stitches in his shoulder. He looked up at Sam, questions running through his mind too fast to pick one. He hoped his brother would just pick up on his confusion and fill in the blanks.

"It's temporary." Was the only reassurance he was granted.

"What?"

Sam took a second, his mind seeming to skip in place like a record, not quite sure what to say to an increasingly unsettled Dean. "Cas and I… we did a spell…"

Dean looked sideways and noticed the unconscious seraph for the first time. "Cas?" He leaned over, checking Cas' breathing before Sam could reassure him it was fine. Dean didn't find any obvious signs of damage, but he could just barely bring forward a memory of the bloodied angel, and the blood stained cot did little to calm his concerns. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's asleep-"

"Angels don't sleep."

"It's the spell!" Sam was getting frustrated with Dean's insistence on interrupting him before he could explain the events in their entirety. "He did a spell that took your symptoms onto him. But he is supposed to sleep through it or something."

"Or something? What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. The spell was a little vague. But he's alright. He wanted to do this."

Dean ran his free hand over his face. He gestured his gimp hand. "Is this necessary then?"

"I think it's better to keep it stabilized. I think Cas took the pain, but I don't think those bones are steady."

"What the hell happened? Why did he take on my-" Dean started to pace, unable to stay still. "What the hell is wrong with me that you guys couldn't just cure, you had to-"

Sam swallowed. He wasn't prepared. He should have taken more time, rehearsed what he was supposed to say, what he was going to say. Or better yet, rehearsed a proper lie to tell his brother and put this whole mess off until Dean was laid up and couldn't punch him anymore. "The illness wasn't supernatural. We couldn't fix it."

"Wasn't supernatural?" Dean's expression hardened. "What the hell is it then."

Sam shakily set himself down into a chair, feeling his heart rate quicken. He was silent for a moment.

"Sam." Dean warned.

"Withdrawal." The reply was so soft Dean almost didn't hear it. And it took at least another minute for his brain to process the word and understand it.

"Withd-" Dean scrunched his eyebrows together. "What?"

"You um…" Sam was a small child again, too afraid to tell his big brother that he lost something, fearing the anger that was sure to follow. "You haven't had a drink in days."

"I haven't..." Dean stilled, turning to face his brother. He managed a defensive half laugh. "So?" His expression cooled as Sam avoided eye contact. "Sam, that's not-"

"Not what? You think you don't have a drinking problem?"

"Fuck you man. Of course I do. Every hunter has a drinking problem. You ever met a hunter who didn't?" Dean was doing his best not to raise his voice, but it was hard. He spread his arms out. "You're the only hunter I ever met who doesn't. But it's not like I drink enough to cause all this."

Sam managed to school his expression to be more neutral before he looked up at his brother. "The timeline fits. The symptoms fit. Cas and I researched every possible supernatural cause."

"Well you missed something!"

"Dean, I'm telling you, we didn't."

"Yeah well, you'll forgive me if I want to look for myself before you write me off as some piss poor drunkard." Dean snapped, heading out of the room.

"Dean wait-" Sam jumped up but he couldn't stop the older hunter before he had opened the door, striding into the map room with the intention, no doubt, of heading to the library.

Dean slid to a halt, freezing in place, arms instinctually raising slightly in some sort of defense. Dust swirled away from his boots, and he just stared in front of him.

The lights in the map room were still powered down in their red color. Beyond that a couple cracked wall lamps in the library cast an eerie hue over the rubble. The fires had burnt themselves out, but the ash and blackened pages were evidence of them having happened. Dean cautiously took a few steps forward, looking up and noting the cracks in the stone and tile walls, the splintered archway, the shattered concrete. The map table was pushed almost sideways, and he could see a clear smear of blood across it, and more blood on the ground right behind where he now stood.

In front of him was what once used to be such a beautiful room, and now was entirely in ruin. He took another cautious step forward, but even the slight shift caused another pile of rubble to cascade from the ceiling into the library in front of him, and the hunter jumped back.

Behind him, Sam ran into the room, catching up to Dean and putting a hand on his uninjured shoulder. Slight pressure coaxed the hunter to take another step backwards, and the pair retreated to the relative safety closer to the stairs and the entrance to the infirmary.

"Sam, what the hell happened…" He tried desperately to dig through his memories. He could almost see one… he was standing in the archway… Cas was in front of him… he had an angel banishing rune on the wall… it didn't make sense.

"You've been in and out of hallucinations for days." Sam admitted softly, his voice just above a whisper, trying to keep Dean calm. "We messed up. I went to call mom before Cas got back." He let out a long breath. "You left the infirmary… you thought. I think you thought Cas was Lucifer again…" He winced as Dean whipped around to face him, eyes wide. "I don't know… I came in, you already had the sigil drawn. He moved too fast, you reacted. I couldn't reach you in time."

Dean pressed his eyes shut, willing the memories to come back, or maybe willing the current events to be just another bad hallucination. "Cas… the blood."

Sam nodded. "He got hurt pretty bad. He hit the spell like a brick wall… all that energy was expelled…"

"I could have brought the whole fucking bunker down on us. On you."

"I'm okay. We're okay." Sam assured him.

"You hit your head…" Dean said softly, some of the puzzle pieces fitting together.

"It didn't even need stitches. You got a broken arm and a wood chip the size of a fist stuck in your shoulder. Pretty bad knock to the head too."

"And Cas?"

"He got bloodied up, but he healed. He couldn't patch us up quite yet, but he was getting there."

"And now he's going to what, go through everything I've been going through?" Dean felt his chest tighten, and he got that fight-or-flight feeling. He wanted to run, or hit something, or maybe just collapse where he was.

"We had to buy you time." Sam's voice was even softer if that was possible. "It's almost four more days until the lockdown lifts. This will buy you three. Then we can white knuckle it until we can reach a hospital."

"Or a bar." Dean muttered humorlessly. Medical rehab wasn't the only road out of this misery…

Sam pulled a face at Dean, but he wasn't ready to start a fight. "This level of withdrawal isn't safe without doctors and medicine. You already had multiple seizures, your fever was climbing, your heart rate never dipped below racing, not to mention the hallucinations..."

"Yeah, and now that shit is going to happen to Cas!"

"He's an angel, Dean." Sam snapped. "He can handle it! Better than you can anyway." He sighed, trying to get his tone under control. "Besides, he is only taking what is happening to you up until the spell was cast. It didn't kill you. Even if he was human, it wouldn't kill him."

"And that makes it okay?"

Sam dropped his hands to his side. "Cas insisted we do it. And I agree with him." He shifted, looking towards the door out of this room, away from this mess. "Please Dean… for now, just… let's just get you to eat something, and drink something. Build up your strength while you can. You haven't kept anything down in days."

Dean wanted to protest, but Sam started to lead him towards the kitchen without his response. He let himself be led, feeling a crushing weight settle into his chest as he desperately tried to be numb to his surroundings lest he drown in his own thoughts and guilt.

Sam clenched his jaw, grateful his brother was allowing him this at least. That had gone better than he thought it would, but he was sure it was far from over. Still. A small victory was better than nothing.

One step at a time.