“Yes I do,” there’s a sharpness to his voice as he pushed himself up. If there’s one thing that rankled Sam the most, it was being discounted like that. Second guessed. He’d put up with it for most of his childhood and over the years it had sparked most, if not all of the arguments between him and their father.

“I know exactly what I’m saying and it’s my fault. All of it. I knew she was playing me but.. I wanted to matter. I wanted to do something good with this demon blood in me.”

Wearily he scrubbed at his face. God. His head was still pounding and his mouth felt like an ashtray. “I didn’t mean it Dean. Any of it.”