Dean's shoved back into the sink, hit lower back hitting with a thud, reminding him too closely of something else. Maybe this is his hell. He seethes, sucking through his teeth, gripping the edge behind him.

"Sammy," he says, placating.

He doesn't know what to say, how to convince Sam he's ten years older, how he's not Lucifer, this is not Sam's pit. Will it even work if his hell is an off his rocker Sam not believing him? Attacking him?

"It's me."