Riding high, feeling strong, going to take down those evil sons of bitches, the ones who took Dean, took Dad, took Mom, took Jessica, TAKE TAKE TAKE. That's all they ever did was take from him. Well, they did give him one thing. They gave him this curse. This curse that he was learning how to control, how to manipulate and get what he wanted: Revenge for those who had suffered at the hands of these demons. Dean didn't want him doing it, Dean didn't like that it was demonic in origin. But it was saving lives, it saved Dean's life when Alistair was trying to choke Dean's soul right back out of his body. That was unacceptable, Sam couldn't be unprepared like that again. He couldn't allow another demon to get their jollies hurting his brother, taking him from him again. Dean was his. No one got to keep his brother. No one.

So, it started that night, the night he destroyed Dean's tormenter. That was the night it became regular. Regular for him to take from demons, take the blood to make him stronger, so he could take on more demons, so he could destroy those who would destroy him. Once a week, had given to twice, to three, and before he knew it, every night he would meet Ruby and "practice" make sure he didn't get to "flabby", make sure his body and mind were prepared to take on anything that came his way. Best part of it all, was that he was able to do this with no lasting repercussions. He wasn't becoming Ava, or Jake. He had control over this. He was the master, not the blood. Dean had stopped commenting weeks ago on his late night activities. Therefore, secretly Dean must be in agreement. Dean must have seen the worth and value of these powers when he saved him from Alistiar. Dean must be proud of him for doing this, for taking control of something that he had been unable to do, for protecting him when he couldn't protect himself, for doing what was right, despite all nay sayers.

He wiped his mouth as he left the hotel in which Ruby was staying. He got into the Impala and he could feel the blood overtaking, could feel it strengthening his powers, his mind, his body. Sam would be able to protect those he loved, no one was going to get in his way this time. No demon, no anything. He would save Dean. He would keep Dean whole, and unharmed. This power, this strength would keep his brother safe.

Taking a deep and calming breath, he put the car in park, and headed into the motel room. Dean was sitting at the computer, pinching his bottom lip with his fingers, reading something intently.

"Ruby good?" Dean asked off handedly. Sam couldn't tell if it was meant to be reproach or a simple question. Sam decided that it was no use lying to Dean anymore. He knew what he was capable of and wasn't complaining, he stopped holding him back, and just let Sam do his thing. Dean didn't have any intentions of stopping him anymore, so what was the point in lying.

"Fine." He said. He threw the keys on the table and took off his coat and sat down behind his brother.

"So, there is this haunting in Denver. Sounds like a pretty easy gig. Give us time to do something while we are waiting to figure out what the demons are doing, or at least until Cass can give us something useful to do."

"Yeah. Denver?"

"Yeah. Denver. Guess we should get some shut eye. Gonna be a long drive." Sam nodded and Dean stood up and turned. Sam looked up and Dean froze. His face a mask of fear.

"What? What is it Dean?" he stood up and reached out to his brother.

"What the hell happened to your eyes?"

"Nothing, what are you talking about?"

"They are dark."

"Dean, my eyes have always been darker than yours."

"No, you have hazel eyes. Your eyes are demon dark, demon black."

"I'm not a demon." Sam tried to laugh it off.

"What the hell did you do?" Dean asked quietly and angrily.

"Nothing. What? Come on Dean. Ruby and I were just practicing." Dean grabbed his brother's shirt, never taking his eyes from his brother's

"What did you do?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing. Just worked on getting a lead on Lilith." He lied. Dean shook Sam.

"I asked what in the hell did you do?"

"Nothing Dean. Get off of me."

"No. What did you do?"

"Get off Dean."

"Sam."

"I said get off!" Sam said and with a flick of his wrist he threw Dean off of him, and into the wall. Sam's eyes went wide.

"Oh God Dean, oh God. What did I do? I'm sorry." He lightly patted Dean's face. "Dean Dean, come on man, you okay?" His hands were beginning to shake. "Dean!" he yelled. He checked for breath, and he checked for pulse, both were good, but Dean was out cold. He checked the back of Dean's head and came away with blood. "Oh my God Dean. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I just lost control." He stood up and went to the bathroom and got a wash cloth. Wet it and looked up, and was greeted by a demon in the mirror. Pitch black eyes smiling with mirth in the middle of a scared and helpless boy, a boy who thought he was doing the right thing, a boy who thought he was helping, a boy who just threw his brother into a wall with a flick of his wrist and a thought. The boy who his brother had spent his entire life protecting. There was a demon in the mirror. Sam stepped back until his body connected with the wall, mouth open, and slid down, hand entangled in his hair.

"Oh God. What have I done?" he whispered.