This is a story request from Red K 5 who wanted a mild OCD Sam and flashbacks of his year without Dean. Read on to find out exactly what that entails. Contains minor spoilers for seasons 7, 8. I will try to update this once every week or two weeks.

Disclaimer: I don't own Anything from or related to Supernatural, and this fic is not for profit or gain.

Chapter 1: Blood is Thicker than Water

~SPN~

Dean and Cas were jettisoned into oblivion. No, they weren't. After a monster dies, they're sent to Purgatory. His brother was in purgatory. At least he had the angel with him— That fact made him ease up a little. Crowley had kidnapped Kevin once again, leaving with his usual staunchy demeanor and smug smirk as he knew exactly which of the hunter's buttons to push to cause the most damage mentally. Now, he was alone is Dick Roman's private lab.

The putrid stench of chemicals permeated the air adding to the discomfort which only grew as time pressed on. He was alone. Not even the taxing voice of a serpent was chittering away in his ear; which Sam knew was just a tactic of his to make the hunter feel even more lonely or depressed. But the knowledge of that, didn't still his mind any. Ironically, he could've used a voice, even that of the devil's to just solidify that he wasn't completely alone. In a somewhat disturbing way, he missed it.

What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't go back to the cabin, everything there reminded him of his brother. There wasn't another means of transportation except the bashed Impala outside; A painful reminder that he was alone again. Besides, it would need a good fixing up. That was beyond his level of strength at the moment. He wasn't in the mindset to fix things, he was in the mindset to examine things at the farthest perspective he could right now. That meant leaving, starting things anew until he could find a solution the problem.

Taking a reluctant glance to the bone covered in grey goo, Sam turned on his heels and left the lab.

Leviathan corpses littered the halls, making it difficult to pass through the many weaves of corridors and elevators. It looked like the demons did a thoughough job of exterminating the stragglers.

Not long after traipsing his way through the building, he arrived at the main door. He pushed the handle hard, expecting the door to swing open, but as he got a closer look, Sam saw an electrical diode on the side of the frame, emitting a buzz and flashing red, sealing it shut. Just great.

After the attack, the system must have shut down, preventing anyone from leaving without identification.

With an indignant huff, Sam spun around towards the computer station.

Inspecting the desk, he found a laser scanner embedded into it, along with a software program still running on one of the monitors. The device was seemingly meant for scanning company ID's, judging by the long list of Personnel names in an electronic note on a side document. Sam snatched an ID from one of the Levi bodies slumped in a chair and slide it through the scanner to be rewarded by a green light and an electronic click. This would have been so much easier if the demons had just busted through the glass doors, but with the ability to teleport there was sadly no use in that, which left the hunter the long way out.

Black eyes watched him like a hawk, roaming over him in interest as he surveyed the battered Chevy parked out front. The damage was minimal. The dark frame was fractured, bent in certain places; The windshield had a few micro cracks that compromised the integrity, but other than that it was fit to drive, even if he wasn't.

He started up the engine and drove. Just drove.

"Sam. Sam?"

The hunter startled at the blurry hand waved in front of his face and blinked his eyes several times to clear them. "Mrph... What?"

"You were daydreaming."

"No, I was just... thinking," replied Sam. About his betrayal. About his uselessness and selfishness when he needed to be on point for his brother.

"Dean smirked playfully at him. "It was about a girl wasn't it? Sheelah. You were daydreaming about Sheelah."

Sam shrugged. "No, I wasn't Dean! Not about girls not about Sheelah. It was more like a nightmare," Sam finished quietly.

"Ah, you were night-dreaming then. I see."

Without warning, Sam jumped up from the table and moved towards the door. "I gotta go."

"Dean snorted and rose up from the table, his tone changing to one of understanding. "Wait, Sam. No running off, alright? Let's talk about it."

His back to his brother, Sam replied. "There's nothing to talk about." Then stomped out the door. There really wasn't anything more he could say. He'd already confessed his guilt. Well, at least half anyway. The grim happenings on the other side of the story weren't meant to be told or heard by anyone. Besides, Dean would never look at him the same way again if he knew the terrible truth behind his mask of shame.

"What's with his problem," Dean muttered, peeking back the curtain just in time to see the Impala screech onto the main road, a dust cloud left in its wake. Cursing a string of whispered threats that referenced bodily harm if anything happened to his baby, Dean threw the fabric closed and slumped back into the kitchen. Maybe a cool off would do them both some good. Talkin' it out apparently wasn't going to happen. But there were still risks when a hunter stormed off alone without his partner. Of course he knew Sam wasn't stupid and would lay low somewhere warded, but he was still worried for his little brother all the same.

Little did Dean know that he wasn't alone when Sam left, but was being watched closely by something hiding between the veils of the invisible and visible.

The shaded cabin allowed the gold of his eyes to glimmer as they darted to the door, and then to sullen frown and sunken, broken expression of the human. He sensed an almost overpowering feeling of guilt and anger that radiated off the man in a red film. Human emotions were still very alien to him. Unlike his brother, he'd spent more time with the pagans than any inhabitants of earth. But these brothers seemed to be carrying a truckload of baggage, outweighing every human he'd ever seen. Or hunter for that matter.

And what was even more peculiar, was that he found himself helping them from time to time, as in now. But he had one weak spot for a Samsquatch. Not so much for his bow legged brother, but if Sam was willing to die for the mud monkey, maybe there was something he was overlooking?

Gabriel raised his hand, and snapped his fingers.