Sam was silent for a moment. When he opened his mouth, he pulled in a breath. His hands flexed and curled into a fist that was meant to steady himself.
"I don't know. I hadn't thought that far ahead. I just...I just wanted it to stop. Your potions help, but they wear off too quickly, and I'm just so tired, Keleios. I'm so tired of jumping at every shadow. I haven't slept without the potions for I don't know how long, and that's never going to change. I thought, I thought I could, I thought this would make it stop once and for all. I didn't know what else to do."
Sam's voice was thick with emotion. His eyes were bright with it. He felt guilt and shame, all his hope dashed and thrown on the ground. He knew in that moment he had to make a choice. The possibility of peace, which meant he was doing little more than actively, purposely grooming himself for Lucifer to once again claim his vessel, or friendship.
The choice was at once simple and so complicated he didn't know how to put it into words. "I'm...Dean will know what to do. He'll help keep me secure until it's out of my system."