Warnings: Graphic violence, language
Timeline: Season 4
Disclaimer: Based on the Series Supernatural. Copyright infringement not intended.
Status: Complete

Notes: This story switched back and forth between realities alot. If you like movies like 12 monkeys, you will probably like this.

CHAPTER ONE
Lying Safe In Bed

Sam Winchester rolled over in bed, the bright glow of morning slightly stung his eyes. He shut them tight as he attempted to block out the day. A small groan escaped his lips. He wondered what time it was. Lately Dean would wake him up before dawn. Dean kept them constantly chasing after hunts. Perhaps Dean had finally managed to rest. 'Good,' Sam thought. It was about time Dean had a good night's sleep. Sam his best to sit up quietly, so not to wake his brother. He wearily rubbed his blurry eyes as he slowly opened them. His eyes blinked, they adjusted to the light. He looked around; his eyes filled with confusion as they surveyed the room.

This wasn't the motel he and Dean had checked into. This room had a plain sterile appearance. He sat there on the uncomfortable bed and examined his surroundings. The walls were stark white. The floors were covered in cold linoleum. A set of pale pastel curtains hung by a rail from the ceiling; they were drawn closed on one side diving the room in half. Across the room a set of partially open vertical blinds covered the only window. A simple white cotton blanket was draped across the young man's legs.

Where was he?

Sam tried to make sense of where he was. He thought a moment... This had to be a hospital. Had Dean taken him to a hospital? He racked his brain to remember the night before. He couldn't remember going to bed. He couldn't even remember them getting back to the motel. "What was the last thing that happened?" He whispered softly to himself as his mind raced.

Jumbled memories flashed in his mind; fragmented like a broken movie reel. They had been helping Bobby with a hunt. Another hunter had been killed. Sam searched his mind for more details but they eluded him. He couldn't remember even simple things; like what city they had been in.

Why was he here?

More broken images. He forced himself to focus. He recalled, they had split up. Sam and Dean had gone to check on one lead while Bobby had gone to track down another. That was when he and Dean had managed to find the thing they were hunting. He tried to piece the scattered memories together. There were too many gaps, like a puzzle with missing pieces.

He slid his legs over the edge of the bed then starred out at the room around him. He had to focus if he was going to make sense of anything. His mind felt like it was spinning a hundred miles an hour as it finally replayed the events from the night before.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Sam! Behind you!" Dean shouted, unfortunately his words were too late. He could only watch as his brother was flung across the room head first into a glass partition. The glass shattered, as hundreds of shards scattered everywhere. Sam landed with a sickening thud.

He felt the warm sticky blood ooze from his forehead. The thick red fluid slid gently down his face mixed with his sweat. The sting from the wound made it clear he had a large gash above his brow. He looked down through the thick blood, he could see that it had already formed a small puddle. He began to feel light headed. His vision blurred and doubled. He had to stop the bleeding. He pressed his hand to the wound and attempted to apply pressure However, it was in vain, he could feel his mind fog from the pain. His head throbbed so badly it felt like it was on fire.

He heard more scuffling from the background. 'Dean, needs my help,' he thought as he compelled himself to focus. He tried to push himself up, to command himself to rise, but the blood loss from the blow to his head was taking it's toll. He felt dizzy and the strong urge to throw up.. He barely managed to force himself to his feet. He teetered and staggered as he struggled to get his footing. He turned his attention to the conflict across the room. Sam's vision so blurred that he could barely make out his brother being slammed into a wall. Sam took a step toward the fight and found himself overcome. Then fell forward his eyes rolling back in his head as he scummed to the wound and passed out.

* * * * * * * * * *

Had Dean driven him to the hospital after the fight? Sam couldn't remember. In fact, he couldn't remember anything that had happened after he had passed out. Sam raised his hand to his face, he gently felt his forehead for signs of the wound. However, there were no bandages. No stitches. Sam shook his head. None of this made any sense. He continued to survey the room. There was no medical equipment in sight. No IV. No monitors. Nothing. The room was virtually empty from with the exception of his bed, a bureau that stood against one wall, and a table with two chairs over by the window. Through the curtain to his left he could make out the silhouette of a second bed and someone asleep.

He decided to get up and see what was on the other side of the veil that divided the room. He stood, his bare feet tingled as they touched the hard cold floor. He inched his way at first since he expected to be sore and have pain from the previous battle. But there was nothing. No pain. No aches. He felt fine. He knew he should have had a migraine from hitting his head. He should have felt the sharp sting of bruised ribs from the blows he had endured, or at the very least the ache of a pulled muscle. But there was nothing. Why would Dean have brought him here? Sam clearly wasn't injured.

He quietly walked around the room, he didn't want to wake whoever was resting in the other bed. He pulled back the curtain cautiously. He made and attempt to get a look at the other individual's face. However, they laid on their stomach and had their blanket almost covered their head entirely, which made it impossible.

As he continued to investigate he noticed two doors. He opened the first one, and found a bathroom. There was a simple shower no curtain or even shower rod. It was just partially walled off from the rest of the small room. Then there was a public style toilet and a small sink without a counter. Above the sink was a semi reflective material. It was clearly supposed to serve as a mirror even though it wasn't made of glass. He gazed at his reflection. Not a scratch on him. Even many of his old scars seemed lessened of gone all together. He pondered to himself, "How long was I out?" Sam began to worry that he had been here for a great deal of time.

Sam felt a sense of dread set in. He needed answers. Something felt very wrong about this place. He had to find Dean. He became determined to find a nurse, someone or anyone who might know what was going on. He hastily headed for the other door. He could see parts of the empty hall through the small window in the door. He jiggled the handle and discovered it was locked. "What the..." he muttered.

Why would the room be locked? What the hell was going on? He looked around the room once more. This didn't make sense; hospitals don't lock their patients in their rooms. He swiftly headed towards the window he hoped to find some clue about where he was, or possibly a way out. As he pulled the blinds open wide, he found bars on the windows.

He felt his heart pound against his chest. "Where am I?" He whispered to himself as the severity of his situation began to sink in.

* * * * * * * * * *

The sound of foot steps echoed in the hall, followed closely by the rattle of keys in the door. Sam turned instinctively as an orderly entered the room. Sam noted the man's name tag read: Carl.

"You're up early today Sam," slight surprise in Carl's voice, "You sleep ok last night?" He asked as he turned and pulled a small cart into the room. It was nearly covered by rows of tiny paper cups, some filled with water and others with pills of various sizes, shapes and colors.

Sam instantly felt uneasy. He ignored the man's question. Right now Sam had too many questions of his own. "What's going on?" His voice was shakier then he had intended.

"Med time just like always," he answered with a slight shrug. Then Carl picked up two of the small paper cups and extended them to Sam, "Usually I have to drag both of you out of bed in the morning for meds." the orderly smiled briefly, "At least one of you is awake on time this morning."

Sam shook his head, pushing the tiny cups away. "No...." he began, then paused and took a deep breath. He needed to stay calm. He had to figure this out. Things were getting weirder by the second, "I mean where am I and why am I here? What's going on?" He spoke slowly trying his best to make himself clear to the other man.

The orderly gazed at the young man with slight bewilderment, "You're at Langley Porter Psychiatric Hospital." He paused, as he lowered his hands, a concerned expression on his face, "don't you remember Sam?"

"No. I don't." Sam took a deep breath. This was becoming far too disturbing. What was he doing in a mental hospital? This wasn't right. None of it. His mind flooded with more questions then he could begin to express. He could feel his heart pounded rapidly as the stress within him swelled. "Look I don't belong here," the young man insisted. "I... I gotta get out of here."

"You know I can't do that Sam," the orderly explained, his voice trembling slightly. He could tell Sam was getting upset. That was never a good thing. Carl admittedly was a bit apprehensive of the young man, and for very good reason. Sam tendency for violent outbursts was legendary among the staff.

The Truth was no one wanted to be on shift when Sam was in the middle of one of his episodes. Sam had on more then one occasion accused staff members of being demons, ghosts, or various types of monsters. Once he had even held down a nurse and attempted an exorcise her. The event had left the poor woman so traumatized she resigned shortly after. Carl could tell Sam agitated which made it clear that today was going to be one of his bad days.

Sam attempted to push the majority of his questions aside. There was only one that mattered right now. Where was Dean? He took a deep breath and spoke, "listen I need to see my brother. Is he around?" Sam noticed the man's quizzical expression. So he clarified, "My brother, Dean." Sam's couldn't help the mixture of fear, frustration and confusion which filled his voice. He just wanted to know what was going on. He just wanted to talk to his brother. He wanted to know why he was here. And what had happened the night before. "Where's Dean?" He repeated his voice sounded angry this time.

There it was, he had asked for Dean. Sam always asked for Dean when he was having a bad day. This was because Sam believed that Dean was his big brother, even though Sam didn't have any siblings. Most of his stories consisted of the two of them traveling around the country stopping in small towns to fight the forces of evil and save the world.

It was quite sad to see the deterioration of what had once been a nice young man. To see him retreat into a fantasy world in order to escape the memories of his past which confronted him here. It was ironic that for Sam the fantasy was a safe haven considering the violent nature of his delusions.

Carl took a deep breath, he had to be on his guard with Sam in this sort of mood. "Sam," he spoke slowly, keeping his voice level and as calm as possible, "you do remember that Dean isn't real? Don't you?"

"What?" Sam asked incredulously, he was completely floored by what the other man had just said. "Of course he's real;" his voice shook with anger and fear, "he's my brother." What in the hell was this guy saying? "What in the hell is going on?"

Carl took a step back, "listen, I'll go get Doctor Miller."

"I don't need a doctor," Sam's voice raised, his anger toward the orderly's patronizing manner growing steadily. "I need to find my brother," his teeth clinched a bit as he spoke, "I need to find Dean." He felt the frustration well up inside him and could no longer fight the urge; he rushed at the shorter man. Sam grabbed hold of Carl's shoulders tightly. Sam's anger just took over as he shook the man violently.

"Get off of me!" The orderly yelled, as he managed to push Sam away. Carl quickly pushed the cart between himself and the deranged patient. He used the obstacle as an opportunity to reach the door. "I need some help in here," he called out, getting the attention of several other staff members. Within seconds several other orderlies and nurses filled the room.

The commotion woke the man in the other bed. He turned over noting the struggle, shrugged and then rolled back over in bed covering his head with his pillow and blanket.

One of the larger men grabbed Sam by the arm; Sam struggled against the tight grasp. He did all he could to break the man grip. However, the orderly was far too strong and Sam's efforts were wasted, as the man manged to grappled Sam's other arm as well.

Sam refused to give in so easily. In retaliation he raised his knee to connect with the man's midsection. This blindsided the man, and caused him to release his hold. He doubled over as the air was forced from his lungs.

Sam took advantage of the momentary distraction. The large orderly looked genuinely shocked as Sam's fist connected with his jaw. The resulting flash of red was followed by black for the orderly, as he fell to the floor. Sam launched himself towards the door. He pushed past two of the young women who stood between him and the exit. He was desperate to escape this nightmare, and didn't care who he had to go through to get free. The staff however, weren't about to let him go so easily.

Carl quickly stepped between Sam and the door, providing enough of an obstacle for the other staff to get a hold of Sam again. This time around they gripped him tighter. One of the men locked his arms around the young man's torso. He lifted Sam up into the air. As Sam kicked his legs out furiously another orderly took hold of Sam's legs. The patient struggled to free himself from the strong grasp of the orderlies. Then Carl grappled Sam's legs as well, the two men kept Sam from kicking himself free. Then he felt the grasp of two of the nurses as they locked on to his arms. He squirmed and struggled as the group carried him over to the bed. They held him down another nurse began to strap him in.

"Get off of me!" Sam shouted as he tried once more to kick free. "Dean!" It was no use. They had his arms strapped to the bed now and were in the process of strapping his legs down. Why was this happening? Where was Dean? He shouted out for his brother again, "Dean!"

It took every ounce of the group's strength to hold the young man down as he struggled, "Calm down Sam," one of them urged, as nervous glances were exchanged between each staff member. Sam was losing it today.

"He's going to need to be sedated," one of the men stated, as he finally managed to strap down the final leg.

"Quick 10 milligrams of madazapam," one of the nurses ordered, as another nurse rushed from the room. She returned seconds later with a syringe.

"Let me go!" Sam demanded as he felt the needle pierced his skin. "No... Let me go..." he pleaded. The cool rush of the medication flow through his veins. Seconds later he could feel his mind began to cloud, as the room began to blurr. His mind felt like it was swimming as the medication began to take full effect. "What are you doing?" He struggled against the dizziness. "Dean..." He felt groggy and disoriented, "Dean, where are...." he trailed off as he drifted into unconsciousness.

* * * * * * * * * *