Dean kicked open the motel door, shotgun at the ready. With one sweeping glance he noticed Sam was alone. At the sight of his brother, Sam's hazel eyes transformed into solid black abysses. He looked pale and beyond him, Dean spotted what appeared to be bottles of blood. Demon blood. Dean slowly registered.

Before Dean could say a word, Sam's arm shot out and Dean was suddenly flying backwards, slamming hard into the motel wall. With another wave of his brother's hand, Dean's shotgun was ripped away by the invisible force and the motel door slammed shut.

"Sammy…" Dean said breathlessly as he tried to get his bearings. He attempted to move but he was pinned painfully against the wall, the force holding him heavy and oppressive.

"You shouldn't have come," Sam said wearily. He looked sickly, sweat beading on his brow. "You're just going to get in the way."

"Sam…" Dean tried again. "What's wrong, Sammy? What's going on?"

"I…" Sam began and then stopped abruptly to look off in the direction of the bed. "Stop! I know that!" He shouted at nothing. Dean felt his blood run cold. This was much worse than he expected.

"There's nobody there. Look at me, man." Sam turned back towards Dean. "It would be a lot easier to talk if you let me down," Dean panted, the pressure of the force making it hard to take in deep breaths. "It's just me."

"You don't understand!" Sam sounded unhinged. He was shaking and large bags hung under his eyes.

"You're right, I don't understand. Why don't you let me down and explain it to me?" Dean urged carefully, trying again to wiggle his arms and legs with no success. "I'm not mad about the demon blood. We can fix this."

"This is because of Asmodeus. I have to get to Asmodeus. He can fix this. You don't under—" Sam suddenly gasped in surprise and fell to his knees, grabbing his head.

The force holding Dean instantly released and Dean landed on his feet. "Sam!" He rushed over to his brother who was now hunched over on the floor with his head buried in his hands.

Sam looked up at Dean, his eyes back to their normal brown. "I'm sorry," He wheezed, his face scrunched in pain. "I messed up."

"It's alright, Sammy, it's alright." Dean crouched in front of his brother and rubbed Sam's back as he desperately tried to think. Sam was clearly in severe pain and Dean had no idea how to stop it.

"I should have told you. I can feel it...I can feel Asmodeus's blood in me," Sam nearly sobbed.

Dean gripped his brother's shoulders. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You're going to be alright."

"You have to get out of here before I lose control again," Sam pleaded. "You have to—" Sam suddenly pulled away from Dean and gave an agonizing scream, blood falling from his nose. He fell back, unconscious on the floor.

"Sam? Sammy!" Dean roughly shook his brother who made no response. His mind was racing.

His first instinct was to get Sam back to the bunker where it was safe. Then he could figure out what to do.

Dean pulled his brother over his shoulder and carried him quickly to the Impala.

Sam felt the familiar rumble of the Impala and the sound of Dean's voice as he slowly came to.

"…Yes, it's really freakin' bad. Like he threw me against the wall with his powers bad…yeah, I'm pretty sure this is Asmodeus. He must have done something to him when I wasn't looking…"

Sam attempted to open his eyes and instantly winced at the bright, searing sunlight outside of the window. He tried to move his hands and found them restrained by a pair of warded handcuffs tight against his wrists and affixed to the Impala's door handle.

"…I gotta go, he's waking up…should be there in about 5 hours…ok thanks, Cass."

Dean put his phone down and glanced away from the road to look at Sam. "Sammy, how are you feeling?"

"God, your brother and his stupid questions, am I right?" Lucifer called from the back seat. "You tell him you need to see Asmodeus and he ties you up like some kind of animal."

Sam felt his blood start to boil as he pulled on the cuffs. Lucifer was right. How dare Dean try to stop him? His head throbbed, the pressure building to an excruciating level.

"Sam?"

Sam pulled on the cuffs hard, a cold sweat breaking out across his body. He glanced in the rearview mirror to see Lucifer and his own solid black eyes staring back.

"Let me out, Dean," Sam panted, yanking on the cuffs again. "Let me out!"

Dean glanced over at Sam and his eyes looked somber. "I'm sorry, Sammy, I can't do that right now. You're not well, okay? I have to get you home."

"I'm not going back to the panic room. I'm not going to be locked up!" Sam heard Lucifer laughing as he continued to jerk on the cuffs and door handle. Blood began blossoming from under the handcuffs where the metal cut into his wrists with every yank. "I need to see Asmodeus. Let me go!"

"That's not going to happen," Dean said calmly. He kept his eyes on the road as Sam continued to shout. Eventually, Dean stopped responding altogether, making a clear effort to ignore Sam.

Sam wasn't sure how much time passed before he relented, but night had fallen and a light rain was tapping on the car. His energy continued to fade as the crushing pressure in his head intensified and he began to shake, sweat soaking through his shirt.

Dean was saying something but his words seemed far away and muted. Where were they going? Sam tried to remember but another wave of agony overwhelmed him and Sam cried out, the pain worsening with every passing moment.

He felt the Impala slow and stop. His door was opened and Dean was there, gingerly unlocking his cuffs. They appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. It was pitch black and a drizzle was still falling.

"Sammy? Talk to me, man." Sam started shivering harder against the night breeze and he felt the weight of Dean's leather jacket placed on his shoulders.

"Dean…" Sam tried, but was distracted by a surge of nausea that suddenly hit him. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Okay, no problem, Sammy," Dean said gently and helped Sam out of the car. Sam's knees immediately buckled and he began to vomit into the damp grass. He felt Dean by his side, rubbing circles on his back, and tried to focus on his words. "It's okay, I'm right here. It will be okay. Just take deep breaths."

Sam continued to puke until he was just dry heaving. When he was done, he fell back to sit against the Impala, exhausted.

Dean was still there, now crouched in front of him, emerald eyes blazing with worry.

"Sammy? How are you feeling?"

Sam tried to hold Dean's gaze but he started to feel uncomfortably hot. He shrugged off Dean's jacket and began to remove his shirt when Dean's strong hands stopped him.

"Hot," Sam murmured weakly.

"I know, Sammy, but it's cold out. You can't take your clothes off. You're running a fever." Dean's hand rested on Sam's forehead and lightly brushed back his wet hair.

Sam moaned as another stab spilt through his head. Warm blood fell from his nose and Dean lightly mopped it up with a handkerchief.

"Listen, we are almost home. I just need you to hold out a little longer, okay?"

Dean helped Sam back into the car and this time left the cuffs off. The Impala began to move again and Sam felt himself slipping away, back into the cage, back into hell with Lucifer. Lucifer had him trapped in the cage, demons and hellfire dancing around them. The Devil wielded a long, pointed dagger that he aimed at the center of Sam's forehead and began to push in. Sam screamed, the searing pain unbearable as the dagger entered into his skull.

Sam came to in the Impala, his door was open again and Dean was kneeling next to him. "Sam? Sammy?!"

"Dean," Sam mumbled, trying to focus on his brother's face.

"Thank god," Dean breathed, "Sammy, are you with me? We are here, we are back home. We just need to get you inside."

Sam tried to nod. Cass came up beside Dean.

"Dean…he doesn't look well."

"No kidding," Dean growled at the angel as he helped Sam out of the car.

Sam attempted to take a step but the ground was sinking and spinning beneath him.

"Whoa, whoa, I got you." Dean pulled one of Sam's arms over his shoulder, bearing the majority of Sam's weight. They started walking towards the bunker when Sam's body started to feel impossibly heavy. The sensation of falling overwhelmed him and he was suddenly back in hell with the Devil.

Dean carefully rested his unconscious brother on the bed and ran a hand over his face.

"How was he in the car?" Cass asked, surveying Sam.

"Not good. He was fighting me there for a while and then he just kind of…" Dean trailed off. His brother seemed to be having a nightmare, taking short irregular breaths and groaning quietly. "It seems different from the other withdrawals he's had."

"Prince of Hell blood is very strong, Dean. Any normal human would have been poisoned by its potency. But your brother…"

"Yeah, he's different. I know," Dean sighed and grabbed a thermometer from the supplies Cass had put in the bedroom. Dean was about to take his brother's temperature when Sam suddenly shuddered and cried out, eyes flying open.

"Sammy? It's alright, I'm right here," Dean tried to soothe.

"Dean," Sam gasped, "I—" Sam yelled out again, arching off the bed and grabbing his head.

"Sammy!" Dean called, but Sam didn't seem able to hear him. Dean looked desperately at Cass. "Tell me you found something."

Cass nodded. "I found a strong cleansing spell that should work. I have everything set up in the other room."

"Okay, let's move fast," Dean said as he gently pulled his brother off the bed and Cass grabbed Sam's other side. They made their way to the room Cass prepared and laid Sam on a long table that sat in the middle of the room, a circle of symbols painted on the floor beneath. Dean noticed built-in restraints on the table and rose an eyebrow. "This necessary?"

"Yes, I believe it is."

Dean nodded gravely and the pair secured the restraints around Sam's wrists and ankles.

Cass hurried over to a small dais that was lit by candles and began mixing ingredients Dean didn't recognize in a small metal bowl.

Sam bellowed in pain again, the restraints holding him tight while he thrashed. "Let's hurry up!" Dean called over to Cass.

Dean anxiously watched his brother as Cass started to recite the spell, his voice echoing loudly in the room. After a moment, Sam became still and his eyes opened to reveal solid black voids. He looked over at Dean and Cass and let out a booming, demonic laugh.

"What's happening?!" Dean shouted above the laughter. Cass looked at Dean, flustered, and then back at the spell book. "It's not working, Cass!"

"I think the blood is too powerful. He has too much in him. I think we have to…"

Sam gave another roaring laugh.

"Have to what?!"

"I think we have to get some of the blood out of him."

"What, like bleed him out? Are you kidding me?" Dean looked at Sam, his eyes empty black holes, his face contorted in laugher. He hated the idea of causing any more harm to his brother but knew they were out of options.

"Yes, Dean, hurry!" Cass went back to chanting and Dean rushed over to Sam, pulling out his dagger.

"I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean said as he quickly slit long gashes across both of Sam's wrists. Blood started to flow freely and puddled on the floor. After a moment, Sam stopped laughing and his eyes turned back to their normal soft brown. He looked at Dean, confused.

"Dean…what's happening?" Sam asked weakly. Dean's heart hammered as he helplessly watched his brother bleed and listened to Cass continue the spell.

"It's okay, Sammy, you'll be okay," Dean tried to say calmly but his voice shook. They had certainly been through their fair share of close calls, but this was far worse than Dean could have imagined.

Cass shouted the last sentence of the spell and Sam screamed in agony, black smoke rising from him in great clouds. The smoke shot up through the ceiling in a billowing mass and then was gone as quickly as it had appeared. Sam fell back onto the table, limp and unmoving.

"Help me!" Dean called frantically over to Cass, not wanting to lose a second of time. "Get the medical supplies!"

Dean unfastened the restraints and pulled Sam's arms up over his head to slow the bleeding.

Cass returned a moment later with the supplies and Dean hurriedly wrapped tight bandages around both wrists. Dean sat on the table and shook his brother's shoulders roughly. "Wake up, Sammy. Wake up!" Sam's skin was pale and clammy, and Dean felt a rising horror at the thought that his brother lost too much blood and that Dean, not Asmodeus, was ultimately the one who killed him.

But finally, Sam shivered and moaned, and Dean was greeted with a flood of relief when his brother's eyes opened.

"Dea'…what happened…" Sam looked disoriented but Dean was relieved to see no evidence of pain taking hold of his brother. He pulled Sam into a hug and held him tightly.

"Sammy," Dean breathed. He felt Sam relax into his embrace. "You're okay. Does anything hurt?"

"No," Sam muttered, face pressed into his brother's shirt as he tried to take in slow, deep breaths. "I just feel so…"

"I know, I'm sorry, Sammy. We had to bleed you out like a stuck pig."

He heard Sam give a small snort of amusement. After he was sure his brother wouldn't lose consciousness again, Dean helped Sam off the table and shouldered most of Sam's weight as they made their way back to Dean's room. Once on the bed, Sam collapsed into the pillows, exhausted.

"Dean…thank you," Sam said wearily.

"You don't thank your family," Dean said while he adjusted the covers around Sam. "I'll always have your back."

"I'm so sorry, Dean," Sam began, his voice heavy with fatigue.

"Stop, Sammy, just relax. It's over." Dean settled next to his brother and propped himself against the headboard of the bed. "You're alright now."

Sam nodded and sighed tiredly, moving closer to his brother. Dean brushed Sam's hair back from his face, thinking absently of all the times he had done this same gesture when they were kids and Sam had woken from a nightmare. Sleep took Sam quickly and Dean was relieved to see no signs of pain or nightmares this time.

END