When Sam woke up he was tied to a chair over a Devil's Trap.
Fuck.
Dean was seated just outside the Devil's trap on a stool, holding a manilla envelope.
"What is this?" Sam asked.
Dean opened the manilla envelope and showed him the picture of a corpse. "Demon," he said. "Blood drained. Got anything you want to tell me?"
No. This couldn't be. He'd been off the blood for years. "Dean, it wasn't me. You have to believe me."
"You're a junkie Sam. Junkie's lie."
But it wasn't Sam. Which meant there someone else was out there draining demons.