Sam pulled the knife down his hand, cutting into the skin just enough to start a thin trickle of blood. Thunder echoed outside and inside his head as the sounds around him grew louder and softer all at the same time. He could hear the tears dripping down Crowley's face and the sound of rain ten miles away. He began muttering the words to the exorcism. His voice grew to a yell as he could barely hear himself over the cacophony in his mind.

"Sammy!" Sam wondered for a minute if the sound of his brother's voice was in his head, scrambled with all the other memories and sounds that ran around in his brain like chickens with their heads chopped off. But a pounding on the heavy wooden told him otherwise.

The Trials had often screwed with Sam's idea of time to the point where hours seemed like minutes and days like years. The one second between the time Dean yelled his name and the time he opened the doors stretched on for forever. Sam's hand hovered over Crowley dripping blood onto his expensive suit. Sam heard the blood as if they were drops of water falling from a kitchen sink. He heard nothing else. For a moment he wondered if he should hesitate; to wait for Dean to come in, to stop him. They could go back to the way things were. The two of them against the world, fighting ghosts and demons alike. Sam glanced at Crowley. Even this SOB had no chance against the Winchesters. But then again, what would it be like without having to wake up every day knowing danger was just around the corner?

The clock began again and, as if trying to make up for the missing time, the seconds became milliseconds and Sam's decision was made. As the doors swung open, Sam slapped his bloody hand over Crowley's mouth and shouted the last word of the exorcism three or four times. Dean watched him as Crowley screamed and a strange light escaped his eyes and mouth. The noise faded and Sam felt himself falling. He grabbed onto the chair and put his hand out, stopping Dean who had started towards his brother.

"I have to finish this," Sam murmured. He fumbled around in his pockets before finally finding the piece of paper with the last words of the Trials written on it. It took him a moment to read the words. The world resonating around him blurred his vision and screamed in his ears. When he could finally make the out, he yelled as loud as he could and waited. Again the second seemed like years. Sam looked at Dean. And screamed. It was as if the memories, sights and sounds of everyone in the world were inside of Sam, as if he were the earth and everything lived in his brain.

"Sammy!" Dean's voice sounded far away; outside of the world Sam contained in his head.

"Sammy!" And then it was all Sam could hear. The past, present and future called his name and Sam fell. He couldn't feel the church floor colliding with his body or even the torn wooden boards poking into his side. His body was on fire and drenched in cold water, drowning and burning all at the same time. Then a shriek echoed from his head and tore through his whole body. His sight had completely left him but if he could see he would've noticed a bright light explode from somewhere inside him, knocking Dean, who had rushed to his side, onto the floor.

Anyone who stood near a possessed human would've heard a bloodcurdling shriek and seen a cloud of black smoke burst from the body of the person possessed. Each wisp of smoke gathered into one large billowing cloud over a group of pentagram shaped train tracks. Then, like a tornado, they funneled down into a sort of mausoleum, sucked into hell. The door slammed shut forever.

And Sam felt nothing.

He woke up on the floor in the back of the Impala. He sat up and saw his body lying on the back seat above him.

Shit, he thought, I'm a ghost.