Dean knew he shouldn't. It had already put Sam in danger and clearly made him uncomfortable, still. He should have made up some bullshit answer that wouldn't make Sam feel like he had to keep doing this.

He put the keys down slowly and stepped over to the bed. After a few seconds hesitation, he sat down beside his brother. "You don't have to do this, Sammy. I didn't say that to guilt trip you or whatever. I just don't want you to think I'm looking at you like some kind of buffet. It was never about food."