Listen through the wall.

I'm so sorry I haven't posted anything in a while; I just started my last year of high school so it's been really hectic. So anyway, I'm still bitter about how season 4 ended, especially Dean locking Sam in the panic room, not cool dude. So I wrote this fanfiction, I hope you guys love it!

A HUGE THANKYOU! My beta for this fanfiction falconette360 did such an amazing job!

Italics ~ - Dean's thoughts

I couldn't believe I had to do that. No scenario in my mind could have prepared me for having to lock my little brother up in the panic room that Bobby built in his basement, none. It wasn't like I wanted to, God no, but it was the right thing to do. If the decision was between locking Sam up for a little demon blood detox time, or letting the apocalypse happen, the choice was easy. Didn't make it any easier, though. I didn't know what was going to happen in there, had no idea what so ever, but as soon as we closed the door, I knew I had to stay. Maybe I couldn't be in there with him, but I'd be sitting right outside the door, quietly offering my support as he goes through whatever this is. Bobby had told me that I shouldn't stay, that it could get ugly real fast and that I wasn't going to like what I hear; but that is something I had to do. I had always been there to support Sammy, and I always would.

Sam hadn't said anything yet, but I wanted to make sure that he was ok. He wasn't usually this silent, so I went and opened the small window to the panic room, mustering up the best poker face that I could.

"Okay, let me out, this is not funny," He said to me through the small gap in the door.

"Damn straight!" I answered angrily. I wasn't really that angry, but I couldn't afford to be soft on him right then.

"Dean, come on this is crazy," He insisted.

"No, not until you dry out." Not until you're fully human again.

He shook his head in disbelief and turned away for a moment, as if he couldn't stand to look at me.

"Look I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lied to you; just open the door." He tried again, but I wouldn't budge, I couldn't.

I shook my head.

"You don't have to apologize, it's not your fault; it's not your fault that you lied to me over and over again; I get it now, you couldn't help it." It came out bitterer than I intended it to, but Sam had to learn his lesson so that it didn't happen again.

"I'm not some junkie…"

I interrupted him, "Really? I guess I just imagined how strung out you been lately."

"You're actually trying to twist this into some kind of ridiculous drug intervention," He said, as he walked away slightly, pulling his fingers through his hair like he did when he was frustrated.

"If it looks like a duck..." I stated simply in return.

"Dean, I'm not drinking demon blood for kicks. I'm getting strong enough to kill Lilith!" He said, his voice rising in volume. I knew he believed what he was saying, but I could see right through it.

"Strong?"

"Yeah."

"This is about as far away from strong as you can get. Try weak. Try desperate. Pathetic." Shit, that had been the wrong thing to say, I thought. I was letting my anger get the best of me. I could see the hurt in Sam's eyes as soon as the words left my mouth, but I couldn't back down then, no way.

"Killing Lilith is what matters. Or are you so busy being self-righteous that you forgot about her?" Of course, I hadn't forgotten about her, no way, but killing her wasn't worth letting Sam turn into a monster.

"Oh, Lilith's gonna die. Bobby and I will kill her. But not with you." I didn't know if we could do it without Sam, honestly; he was our best shot, but I couldn't just sit by and watch him turn into something that he wasn't.

"You're not serious," He said, but he had no idea how serious I was about this; I had to save Sam, even if it was from himself.

"Congrats, Sammy. You just bought yourself a benchwarmer seat to the apocalypse."

"Dean, look, no, wait…." I shut the door, not being able to listen to Sam begging anymore. If I had listened, then I might've actually given in, letting go of the angry front I'd been putting up for him. I couldn't do that. So I took a seat, leaning up against the wall of the panic room, as I waited for whatever that was going to happen.

"Come back here. Dean! Let me out of here! Dean! Let me out of here! Let me out! Dean!" I heard him yell, kicking the door, though he knew it wouldn't open. He sounded like a six-year-old little kid again, throwing a tantrum, and I could feel the vibrations on my back as he continued to kick the door. I just sat there.

For a few minutes it was quiet. Sam was mad, furious actually, and I didn't blame him for one second. Maybe one day he would understand that it was for the best. No one was saying a thing and I was starting to be hopeful that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

"Guys! Get down here! Something's coming…" His voice trailed off and I wondered what he was seeing. I knew there was nothing in there; the panic room was too secure for anyone to break in, or out, for the matter. Bobby had told me that even he didn't know much about that sort of thing. It wasn't like anyone had done it before, and he thought a process like that could lead to very strong and vivid hallucinations. I had hoped he was wrong when he had told me that, but no such luck.

"Don't. No, no, don't. Don't, don't. No—stop! Stop! Alastair...please! Please..." Alastair, dammit! Out of all the things, he could have seen why that demon, in particular? I hadn't got any idea, but I was trying not to wonder what he could be saying or doing to Sam.

I heard quick words out of Sam's mouth in between the screams of pain. Alastair must be torturing him, that son of a bitch.

"No. Alastair, please. No, no..." Another scream. I never had heard him in so much pain before, and it truly hurt to listen to his screams and pleas.

"No. No. God, no! Please! Please, please. God!" More and more yelling. I squeezed my eyes shut; trying not to imagine what Sam was going through. Sure, it was just a hallucination, but I knew the pain he felt was so very real. After all, I had been tortured by Alastair before, so I knew what he was capable of.

"Stop! Stop!" I started to wonder how much longer it was going to last, how long was I going to have to listen to my little brother in so much pain. I sat back and hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst; this is probably going to go on for hours.

After what felt like a lifetime, the screaming finally stopped, and all I was able to hear was harsh breathing coming from the other side of the door. The bed squeaked slightly and I thought, maybe it's finally over, but I knew it couldn't be, nothing was that easy.

"I'm losing my mind." Oh god, what the hell is he seeing now.

"What do you want?" He asked softly, speaking to whoever he was imagining in there.

"I tried. I did. It didn't pan out that way. Sorry, kid." Kid? What the hell, neither of us really knows any children, I thought, as confusion welled up inside of me. I put my ear to the wall, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Look, they killed Jessica!" He said angrily. He hadn't spoken about her for years. Was she still on his mind?

"I know!" His tone was angrier, and I wanted to kill whoever he was talking to.

"I'm sorry. I am. But life doesn't turn out the way you thought when you were fourteen years old. We were never gonna be normal. We were never gonna get away. Grow up." It all made sense then; he was talking to himself, his younger self. God, this was so messed up.

Then everything went quiet again. I figured the hallucination had disappeared, but dammit, Sam shouldn't have had to go through this. He had gotten Alastair to torture him physically, and his younger self to torture him mentally. Great, just fricking great.

There were a few movements around the room, along with heavy breathing, but besides that, he hadn't said anything else, until…..

"Mum!" I hadn't thought it was possible for someone to sounds so scared, yet so excited at the same time. Sam was proving me wrong. Maybe he'll finally have a good hallucination and not a torturous one. Sam laughed slightly.

"Let's hear it. Go ahead," He said, like he was expecting her to say something horrible to him, which was impossible. Mum had been perfect; she would have never hurt either of us. But then again, that wasn't really Mum, she was just a figure of Sam's imagination.

"You're disappointed. You never thought I'd turn out this way. I'm a piss-poor excuse for a son. Your heart is broken. Am I close?" Oh Sammy, don't think like that.

"But…. but Dean..." Oh great, now I'm the topic of conversation, fantastic. There was silence for a few moments, and I wished I could hear the other side of the conversation; it was all just so damn confusing.

"For revenge?" No, no, no, no, no, Sammy, revenge isn't that answer, you know that. If anyone knows that, it's us.

"What is in me, Mom, it's..." He got cut off by the voice I couldn't hear.

"What if it's stronger than me? Look at me. What if Dean's right?" He was obviously crying then. Man, I just need this to stop!

"Even if it kills me." What the hell! Nothing is going to kill you Sammy, I'll make sure of it, and it's my job!

The crying had stopped and the room had fallen into silence once again. I never thought I'd be happy that mum had left Sam. I had to keep reminding myself, it's not her, and her figure is hurting him, well, was hurting him, she's gone now.

"Guys! Help!" Well shit, what's he seeing this time?

And the screaming was back, yelling in pain, begging for help. God, this is so damn hard.

"Bobby! Dean! Help! Hey! Hey! Guys! Guys! Help! Dean!" I'm sorry Sammy, I can't, I thought. I just sat there listening to my brother begging for help. There hadn't been many times in my life where I hadn't been able to help Sam. I had always been there to make it better for him, but this time I couldn't. There was nothing I could do, I had no choice, but I was starting to feel like I was slowly and painfully killing him.

It had never been quiet for that long; his hallucinations have had all been only a few seconds apart, and I didn't know if I should be happy or worried. Bobby came rushing down the stairs and his gaze met mine.

"You hear that?" I asked. Maybe, I'm mistaken.

"Yeah, that's a little too much of nothing." We both rushed to the door of the panic room. I opened the small window and there he was, my little brother, convulsing helplessly on the floor. My first instinct was to get in there and take care of him, but Sam was different, and I was doubtful.

"What if he's faking?" I asked. It was a possibility.

"You really think he would?" Bobby asked back. I wanted to say no, but Sam with demon blood in his system, was hardly Sam, if at all. Sam let out a scream.

"I think he would do anything." With that, an invisible force sprung Sam against the wall.

"That ain't faking," Bobby stated and we both rushed to open the panic room door to get inside. Sam was still seizing, hung up in the air against the wall. He reached out with his hand, as if begging for someone to come and save him. He spun around to the other side of the room, never leaving contact with the wall, and I couldn't help but think that it was going to leave a few bruises if, no, when he made it through that. Bobby and I grabbed a hold of him, and with great difficulty, tackled him to the ground. Sam struggled slightly, but we kept a good hold of him. The older man took off his belt and stuck it into Sam's mouth; smart. Dammit I should have thought of that, I thought, I need to get my head back in the game and help Sam. Sam had calmed down slightly, but it was still hard to hold him down. Man, he has more strength than I gave him credit for.

"We're gonna have to tie him down for his own safety." Bobby looked at me for confirmation, as he suggested the idea. I didn't want to do it, but I knew it was the right thing to do. If we didn't, Sam could seriously injure himself, and that was not happening on my watch.

"Dean? You with me?" Bobby asked. I tried to answer but my mind was too caught up on the man I was currently pinning down to the ground. My little brother.

"Dean! Before he has another fit, let's do it!" Right, I needed to stop thinking about it. I pretended that it was not Sam on the ground below me; it was the only way I would be able to tie my little brother down to the bed, trapping him even more.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just get it over with." I said. Bobby and I tied Sam to the bed. He had stopped moving; I assumed that he was unconscious, not that it made it any better. After we finished, our surrogate father went up for another drink, and I re-took my seat right outside the panic room, kind of hoping my brother stayed unconscious until the detox was done.

After an hour, Sam woke up. I could tell because the bed was squeaking and I could hear his breathing change; I just prayed to God that he wouldn't have another hallucination. I mean Alastair, 14-year-old Sam, mum…. Who's next?

"You know why." Oh great, another session listening to a conversation of which I can only hear one side.

"Of course." Of course what, dammit!? Who is he talking to? It was like I was playing a twisted game of 'guess who', and I was losing miserably.

"The point? How about stopping the damn apocalypse!" Okay, so someone is asking him why he drank demon blood, that much is obvious now, but who?

"Just leave me alone!"

I agreed, why couldn't whoever that is just leave him alone?

"No. You're wrong Dean." What the hell! It's me, he's hallucinating me now. This can't be good, what the fuck was I saying to him? My brother was getting emotionally tormented by his own brother (a.k.a. me), and whatever I was saying to him, knowing Sam, he probably believed that it was how I actually felt…. Dammit this has gone too far.

"Stop!" Stop what!? He was struggling then, trying to get out of the chain that I, myself, not a hallucination, had put him in.

"Stop it" Please just make this stop.

"Shut up! Just... Shut. The. Hell. Up." And hey, I was totally ok with that; come on Sammy, shut me up, or at least try and shut me out.

More struggling. He was trying so hard to get away that I could hear the chains being pulled from the other side of a steel door. God, I wished I could do something….. But I couldn't, and I felt absolutely useless.

"Dean. No" Sammy I swear if I could stop your hallucination of me from doing whatever it is he's doing to you, I would in a heartbeat.

"Don't say that to me. Don't you say that to me." I think at that moment, I would've rather had the screams of pain than the quite sobs that he, my little brother, was trying to conceal. I couldn't do it anymore; I couldn't listen to it anymore. I got up and walked away, up the stairs to the living room where bobby was sitting. I'm sorry that I can't give you the support you need right now Sammy, I thought, but I can't just sit there and listen to you being hurt by me.

Little did I know that I had walked away at just the wrong moment. If I had stayed, had stuck around for just a little bit longer, I would have been there when Castiel had let Sam out of the panic room. I could've had stopped Sam from killing Lilith, I could have had prevented the apocalypse, but I missed it. By just a few seconds, I had missed it.

Such was the curse of the Winchester luck.

So that was it!

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Till next time..

-Mika xxx