Dean, Mary and Cas race to save Sam from Toni. Sam slowly starts to lose his mind due to the drug that he was injected with. Can they save him before its to late? Coda- 12X01 and 12X02
A/N: I will finish this before the episode 'Mamma Mia'. This is just slightly AU. Just a little! Lol this is gonna be how I want them to recue him! Be warned, crappy story _ haha Will be 2 or 3 chapters!
Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or Sam and Dean, other characters in the show, etc. But if I did, man the fun. Blah. Enjoy!
You know that feeling when you're dragged from the conscious awake to be thrown deep into a dark abyss of sleep, a blackness that swallows you, awareness lost as you're thrown in a dark pit and even then you just keep falling?
Even in that darkness you're not completely engulfed in it's confinement, even with your eyes closed and you're pulled into the deepest corners of unconsciousness, somehow, peace of mind doesn't always greet you. Instead, it could be much worse.
Your mind, rather than quiet, can become a gather of noises constantly flowing through your troubled thoughts like an echo, they seem to repeat louder and louder. It can produce memories, fragments of tormented images from a tainted past, sorrowful projection's replaying mercifully, nightmare's meant to destroy your soul with painful remembrance, reminding you of the things you wish you could forget, that, and to make your fear become a reality.
In Sam's case, it was both.
Right now, he felt that darkness drowning him in pain and despair, a feeling he's had on multiple occasions but right then was worse than any other time because all he saw was the times Dean died. He couldn't count how many times exactly it was that his brother managed to die before coming back to life, either to die again or be brought back by a supernatural force.
Mystery spot was the worse.
Each of those deaths were harder to witness because each time meant Sam had failed in saving Dean from an unfortunate and brutal death. He thought he knew pain, but when he had to watch Dean die over and over again a little piece of his soul went with him, torn by the sorrow that hit him as reality sunk in: Deans dead and he couldn't do a damn thing about it.
Dean! Dean, please...
Sam's broken pleas were unanswered, broken calls that went unheard as he held Dean's tattered body in his arms.
Then the scene changes,
The darkness, won't let him go.
He sees a scene unfolding before him.
Dean's face, his emerald eyes shinning with untold emotion, shoulders squared with tension but his expression remained stoic, staring at Mary's grave, swarms in front of him.
His brother could always hide his emotions, he was good at it, keeping up the brave facade, but his eyes, no matter how neutral or calm, could always reveal what Dean felt. To strangers, it was hidden, unseen, yet, Sam could always read them by a simple gaze, a locking of eyes and even then, as Dean's attention remained solid and unmoving on the head stone, he knew. The tears refused to fall but Dean's orbs were like a reflection of light, mirroring the stubborn tears that would not fall.
Dean was scared, his fear masked over with calmness.
"You don't have to do this," was what Sam said, his voice soft but shaken. He knew that it was a suicide mission, one that would end Dean's life permanently. Please don't do this...he begged silently, pleading subconsciously.
"I have to."
Just like that, the dam holding back Sam's fear burst into a million pieces and he was frozen in place. It was as if time froze along with him. He could feel his heart being squeezed with a pressure unknown, threatening to crush him with the weight of those words and their meaning. Dean's unspoken words.
It's the only way.
Dean's hand clasped his shoulder. A action of comfort and a silent goodbye before turning around, his hand dropping down as he walked over to Cas and the rest of them.
Sam couldn't move. Hell, he couldn't breath. Dean was going to die...again.
He see's Dean's battered face looking up at him with one eye swollen shut by Lucifer's, no, his hand. He watches Dean struggle to breath, his chest rising and falling with effort. Lucifer's hold over him broken by a single memory of the time him and Dean carved their initials under the dash board.
He hears Dean's words filled with love and devotion even though he had continued to punch him over and over again.
I'm here.
I'm right here, Sammy.
The images won't subside. They torture him without mercy, taunting him of the darker truths of a darkened past.
Dean was dead and he was never coming back and that was the darkest truth of all and it was Sam's worst fear turned reality.
He let the darkness take him because there was nothing left to take from him except the light.
Consciousness returned to him slowly and painfully, drawn out of a black oblivion with a displeased grunt. Awareness wasn't as quick, confusion and disorientation being the first sense to hit him. When he opened his eyes, finding it slightly difficult to do so, he was met with a brown ceiling, quickly realizing he was on his back and not in a chair.
Sam struggled to push himself up, the pain in his leg from the bullet and his foot from being flayed alive, shooting white hot streaks of pain through his body, almost like a hot iron poker. Hissing, he managed to sit up and looked around him to see that he was alone.
Sam sighed. How he managed to get himself into this situation, he didn't know. He did know that she was a women of letters and her name was Toni. She believed that he was a lost cause and that he failed at his job as a hunter.
Folding his leg, Sam massaged the part where his jeans were ripped open from the bullet. Gritting his teeth as the action spiked a hot flame up his thigh, he continued to rub it.
His attention went to his now bandaged foot and he remembered the agonizing bite of a blow torch ripping his skin apart, shredding away the layers as they split open, burning the flesh and almost piercing bone.
Still, it was nothing compared to Lucifer's torture methods. If the devil himself could not break him, eat away at his soul until it was nothing, he wasn't going to break for a women of letters.
Then again, he wasn't exactly whole. Not now that Dean was dead. The thought was torture enough and for a second he wished they would get on with it, send him to to the afterlife instead of playing it out. Sam knew that wouldn't happen. They wanted information and they would try everything to get it out of him. Well, he wasn't going down without a fight even if every fiber of his being wanted to die, be with Dean in the next world.
Something of warmth pulsated through his neck. Sam's eye brows came together in confusion at the weird sensation and he immediately brought a hand up to the back of his neck. He felt a small puncture would at the base of his neck, knowing exactly what it was.
A needle.
He was drugged.
Sam spotted a wire running across the ceilings support beams and followed them to their source. A camera.
They were watching him.
Dean. His brother wouldn't want him to die and not by some girl that managed to kick his ass.
No.
His brother wouldn't want him to roll over and die.
Come on, Sammy. Can't let a chick get the best of you. That's just embarrassing, man.
Sam grinned, a smile that didn't reach his ears, at Dean's voice in his head. "Yeah."
The Sam I know? He wouldn't just give up and die.
With determination and a new found strength, Sam pushed himself to stand. Struggling, he gripped the chair using it as a supportive statue, and managed to get himself half way up before throwing himself in the chair. Sam faced the camera. He wasn't going to give them what they wanted.