Sleeping

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural and I'm not making any money from this fic

Summary: Set during season 6. The wall holds... apart from when Sam sleeps

Warning(s): Spoilers for season six of Supernatural; violence and torture; very slight slashy overtones


Pain sliced through Sam and he screamed – screamed until his throat tore and bled from the pain. And still the knife sliced through his chest, moving with agonising slowness. It didn't take long for the pain to all merge together; and Sam couldn't feel where the knife was anymore.

His whole world was pain now. What new tortures could the demented angel come up with for the human who had forced him back into the pit? Sam couldn't remember life before the pit. All he wanted was to die... but he was already in hell. Could someone die after they were already dead? What about the ones killed with the knife... killed with the Colt?

Sam was no longer held against the wall and he slid down, landing on his bleeding chest. He gasped at the new, intense agony and tried to push himself up – but the floor was too slippery; and each attempt only hurt him worse.

When Michael knelt in front of him, Sam knew that the other angel would see the pure hatred in his eyes. And when Michael reached out to touch Sam's chest, the human flinched back – not wanting to be healed, since all that would do was give a new excuse for the torture to begin again. "No..." he tried to say. The problem was, his lips formed the words... but no sound came out.

Michael just looked at Sam. And when the arch angel reached for him again, the chains clinked, reminding Sam of just how much power Lucifer held inside the cage. Enough to enslave his own brother... but at least Michael wasn't being tortured.

Something wet fell onto Sam's face as the angel reached for him. Sam blinked, not knowing where the water was coming from. Was it raining? Hardly a torturous experience... unless it was acid rain; and the lack of burning indicated that it wasn't.

"Sam... I'm sorry." Gentle hands touched Sam, bringing him up so that Michael could lightly touch his chest.

Sam closed his eyes as he was healed, unable to push the angel away even though he didn't want this. It wouldn't be long before Lucifer returned to continue the tortures. Michael had managed to push Adam into stasis – but it had been right after that when Lucifer had forced the chains on the angel and trapped him without powers – apart from the ability to heal Sam only for Sam to begin suffering all over again.

Michael leaned in close to begin whispering to Sam. All Sam wanted was to push the angel away. He didn't want to listen to the words. He didn't want the angel to tell him – to promise him – that his brother would never give up on him. Michael didn't know that Sam had begged Dean to forget about him... and that Dean always listened to his brother.

Hope was a lie.


When Sam opened his eyes, he found that his cheeks were wet. He touched them, not sure why he'd been crying, and then glanced towards his brother. Dean had been watching Sam since Sam had woken up in the panic room. Sam knew that Dean wanted to make sure that the wall wasn't going to crumble.

"Nightmare?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam blinked a few times. "I don't remember." He didn't want to remember. He closed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair, wondering at the pit inside his stomach. Why did he have the feeling that something was still badly wrong? Because he knew what he'd done without his soul... it must be that weighing on his mind.

"Sam. You'd better not be poking at that wall."

Sam blinked at his brother and quickly shook his head. "No. Dean, I promise. I'm not going to lose it on you."

"Good." Dean stood up and walked over towards the window, then turned back to look at his brother. "You don't need those memories. You're screwed up enough already."

"If I'm screwed up, you are too," Sam replied automatically. He sighed, putting his hands to his forehead. "I need to make up for what I did..." He looked at his brother. "Dean, I... I'm sorry."

"Sam, it's fine. Seriously. You need to stop beating yourself up about it, okay?" Dean stepped over to the bed. "I'm just glad I've got my brother back."

Sam looked away briefly and sighed. He could apologise over and over again, but it would never be enough. He needed to do whatever he could to make amends for whatever he'd done without his soul. That was the only important thing right now.

And maybe then his sleep wouldn't be troubled...