Not exactly the information he was hoping for, but he already knows that whatever fun new issues Sam has with him are secondary. To everything, right now. He follows Sam inside, hand close to his knife. Because right now, he doesn't trust anything.

Except his own instincts. Which he should have been trusting this whole time.

"You sure you wanna know all the details? He was chained to the wall at the time." But he doesn't wait for an answer before pushing ahead. "Look, we've been... doing shit. At Obsidian. He said it helped him. Except the last couple weeks it's been different. Been saying lately that nothing I did to him hurt him the way it used to. But tonight he was..." His mouth twists. This is embarrassing. He should have kept better control. If nothing else, it was a violation of trust. "He was pushing me. Talking shit. He never does that. I got the sense he wanted me to seriously hurt him."

He steps over toward the window, facing away from Sam. It's not like he doesn't want to meet his eyes. It's that it's easier to think when he doesn't have to. "So I stopped everything. Except he was telling me I couldn't let him loose, he was fucking frantic. Then... Eyes, wall, a bunch of shit about Hell."