My Sanity Gone

Chapter 1

Three months, maybe not considered a long amount to time to some but for Sam Winchester, it has been a lifetime. When Dean was gunned down in the parking lot of that motel, Sam felt like his heart had been ripped out. He tried so hard to keep Dean safe. To be there for him. Ever since childhood, Sam had looked up to Dean. He always wanted to be like him. Not unusual of course. Little brothers usually idolized their big brothers. However, life for Sam and Dean Winchester was never like the others. They never knew normalcy. Sam was trained by his father John Winchester once he was old enough to understand that his mother had died when he was just a baby. If it weren't for pictures, Sam would have never known what his mother looked like. The yellow eyed demon had killed her in his nursery when he was six months old.

Because of this, Sam was raised to become a warrior. And he has.

Before Dean was murdered, Sam had been trying to save him from something else. Dean made a deal to bring Sam back from the dead. But the consequences of that deal meant that Dean would have to go to Hell. He only got one year to live. And it didn't give Sam much time to find a way out for his brother. It also gave the trickster, a god who could alter time and change things how they please, a chance to make Sam's worst nightmare come true. For over a hundred Tuesdays, Sam watched Dean die over and over again. The day never changed and Sam was sentenced to watch this punishment. He eventually figured out the trickster was behind it and the son of a bitch finally made it Wednesday. Sam thought it was over. That Dean was safe, at least for now.

That's when he heard the gunshot. He ran out to the parking lot and saw Dean lying on the pavement. He only saw the man's back that shot him for a second as he ran away from the sight. Sam tried desperately to wake up but his fate was sealed, he wasn't going to this time.

Since then, Sam became obsessed. Obsessed with finding the trickster. He needed too, it was the only way he could get his brother back. Sam kept coming to dead ends though. Every lead had turned cold. Until, that is, perhaps now.

Sam stood outside the warehouse. The sky above was cloudy and a dismal gray. It would most likely rain soon. Sam wore tattered jeans and a blue buttoned down flannel shirt, with a canvas coat over that. His nappy hair was disheveled. He carried a duffel bag over his arm. The Impala was parked on the right side of the warehouse. Sam first needed to get his tools from the trunk before he went inside. And in there, that's where he had the demon.

Sam pushed the door open and walked in. Right at dead center, a man was tied to a chair. He had bruises on his young face and blood on his cheek. Sam approached the man and held the duffel bag against his chest. On the floor underneath the chair, the Devil's Trap was painted in red. The demon possessing the young man was trapped. He wasn't going anywhere.

The demon opened his eyes and looked up at Sam, who glared at him with cold, dead eyes. This had been Sam's expression for the last three months.

The demon laughed "what are you going to do? Cut me some more? You know that's not going to make me talk".

Sam didn't respond, he opened the bag and lowered it down.

"No, but this will" He then said, his voice monotone.

Sam dropped the duffel down and in his right hand, he held a flask of Holy water. The demon's eyes narrowed as he looked at it. A slow grin spread on his lips.

"You're kidding right? You think that scares me? I've done things you could never imagine! It doesn't matter what you do to me!". The demon then chuckled "You're so pathetic Sam, poor little lost boy, aw do you miss your big brother? Well he's dead and screaming in Hell! And unlike daddy, he's never going to get out".

Sam gritted his teeth and pulled the young man's head back by his hair. He dumped some of the Holy water over his face. The demon screamed. His skin sizzling as the water burned into his flesh. Sam then smacked him across the face.

"You want to talk now?!"

The demon sucked in a breath and opened his eyes "go blow yourself".

Sam doused more water on him, and the demon screamed again.

"Where is the trickster?!"

The man leaned his head back as he panted "screwing your mother".

A rage filled Sam's eyes. He grabbed the man's crotch, and squeezed his testicles. He brought his face close to his. Demons made him sick. He wanted to kill them all. And he would. But this one knew where the trickster was, and he'd find out, even if he had to kill the innocent man inside to do it.

"You're going to tell me where the trickster is or I'm going to send you back to the hole you came from"

Sam twisted his grip on the man's dick, and he swelled.

"You mean…the hole…where Dean is burning…?" The demon asked in between breaths. He raised his eyes and looked into Sam's empty ones. And then, he spit, right in his face.

Sam reared his head back. He wiped the spit off his face and released his lethal grip on the man's balls. He stepped away and stared down at the demon.

"Spritius mondus, glorum sundum noam, humilaries coonem…"

As Sam continued in Latin, the demon's head jerked right and left. The chair skidded across the floor but stayed inside the Devil's Trap.

"Glorum boneas, eenus noam…"

"Wait!" the demon screamed. Sam raised his eyebrows and stopped the chant.

"Yeah? Got something to say scumbag?" he asked.

The demon leaned his head down "I…I don't know where the trickster is…I swear…"

Sam leaned down, a sneer on his face "you're lying".

"No I'm not! Please…"

"You're begging?" Sam laughed "Wow, that's a new one, I've never seen a demon beg"

The man looked up at Sam "I'm telling the truth".

Sam crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at the demon. Maybe it wasn't lying, and if that was the case, Sam was at another dead end.

"Look…" the demon started to say "I just said I knew where the trickster was to get a rile out of you but I swear, I don't know where he is".

Sam shifted his eyes to the side. He thought for a long moment.

"Doesn't matter" he finally said.

"What?" the demon asked, obviously weakened.

"You're going back".

"You bastard.."

Sam started the chant up again. The demon screamed, so much it's lungs could explode out of the man's chest. The room started to shake and the chair slid over the floor again. The man's head snapped back and forth.

"Mondus glorum, spiritus gome!"

The demon lurched back with another pitch. Black smoke came out of his mouth and trailed up into the ceiling. It then disappeared through the floor, and the demon was on it's way back to Hell.

The young man lay limp in the chair. Sam leaned in closer to look at him. He moaned slightly and Sam's eyes widened in surprise. The man was still alive.

Sam untied the ropes around his wrists and felt for a pulse. His heartbeat was light and barely there. Sam moved away as the man fell out of the chair. He opened his eyes slightly, his vision blurred as he looked up at Sam.

"Please.." he said and reached for his hand.

Sam made no motion to help the man. He only watched as the man's hand lowered slowly back to the floor.

"Hospital.."

Sam looked on as the man died. Then as he still wore that cold expression, he turned his back to the corpse and picked up the duffel bag. He put the flask of Holy water back in and left the warehouse.

Sam walked back to the Impala and fished the keys out of his jeans pocket. He opened the trunk and tossed the duffel bag inside. Followed with a hard push, he slammed it close.

For a long time Sam stared out at the fields that surrounded the warehouse. He forced back tears as he thought about Dean. He wished so much that his brother were here with him. And his obsession was only to going to get worse. But Sam was going to stop at nothing until he found the trickster.

A beeping sounded from his coat pocket. Sam looked down and took his cell phone out. He opened it up and put the cell to his ear.

"Sam? This is Bobby, heard about that demon thing you took care of in Death Valley, nice job. Been about three months since we talked though, be nice to hear your voice. Give a call, I'm here."

Sam turned the phone off. Another message from Bobby. He had no intention of calling him back. It would only distract him from his mission.

Sam got into the Impala and the door squeaked as he slammed it shut. He started the vehicle up and the engine roared as it came to life. Then he drove away, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.