So he had done something to him.

Sam rounded on his brother, torn between betrayal and fury. The one thing he’d balked against his entire life was being controlled. He fought against their Dad’s dictates his entire life, fought every decision that had been made for him, without his input. And knowing that, knowing how much Sam hated that, Dean still went and did.. whatever he’d done.

He dropped the canvas bag at his feet , turning his back on Dean. He had to calm down. He’d burned through too much of his power already dealing with the demon and without more blood.. things were going to get bad for him very soon.

“You’re as bad as he was,” he grated out.

Sleep. Maybe he could get some rest before the headaches and tremors set in. Because right now he sure as hell can’t deal with his brother. Can’t even look at him.