Summary: Shortly after Dean goes to hell for making a deal with a demon to save his brother's life, Sam wakes up in a demon infested hospital. It doesn't take him long to find out their real intensions...

Rating: Mature for language

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics 'Nails For Breakfast, Tacks for Snacks'. It belongs to the band Panic! At The Disco. Also, I do not own the show Supernatural or any characters from it.

Characters: Sam, my OFC Julie and random male crossroad demon.

Note: Direct lyrics to 'Nails For Breakfast, Tacks for Snacks' will be in bold.

Beep… Beep… Beep…Sam's steady heart rate radiated through the colorless hospital room. He stirred lightly from his deep sleep then awakened wide eyed, his blood pressure rising as he looked upon is surroundings. Sam was in the ICU. All he remembered was trapping a smart ass crossroad demon. It wouldn't take his soul for Dean's. The fucker just smirked with arrogance even though he held the Colt against her forehead. What did she say to him before he blacked out? He didn't know. It didn't matter. He was in the hospital and she got away somehow. There will be other demons.

Sam looked at his IV; they were pumping morphine through his veins hourly. He tried to sit up from the quicksand of a bed but the wires and needles tugged at his skin as Sam moved. They stung with an intense feeling of fire. That medicine can't be morphine he thought. Sam slammed himself back into the pillows, looking straight up at the ceiling like a neglected patient in a nursing home. With one final attempt at sitting up, he shifted his body backward into the white, stiff pillows. He cringed not only from the atrocious burning running through his bloodstream, but from his injuries. What happened after he blacked out? He didn't know. It didn't matter. He wasn't a step closer to getting Dean back.

Just then, a middle aged man with a white lab coat on strolled through the door. He smiled in a friendly disposition. Sam looked back at him indifferently, he was just a doctor.

"What? No smile for me Sammy?" The man grinned wider, ear to ear impishly. He flashed his glowing crimson eyes to expose himself to Sam.

Sam's breathing hitched. He was unarmed, hooked up to God knows what kind of machinary, and injured. He scrambled around for the Colt, ignoring the fire in his blood as best as he could.

"Wherre's my gun you sonofabitch?!" Sam managed to utter with malice.

"Watch your mouth. Your speech is slurred enough that you just might swallow your tongue." The demon teased condesendingly.

Sam lurched out of bed, trying to not make himself such an easy target. He stumbled and almost fell over. He had been asleep for hours and his legs have gone numb. The demon laughed, "Careful now. I'm sure you'd want to give up the ghost with just little more poise than that."

"I'm going to rip you out of that body with my bare hands," Sam spat.

The demon merely smiled. "Tsk, tsk. All that anger, Sammy… It's gonna be the death of you."

Sam grimaced from the inferno circulating in his body. He looked at the demon with pure hatred. It wasn't just any demon, it's was one that worked the crossroads. The bastards that played on people's fears, dreams, and desparate cries... Like Dean's…They took him, but not Sam. There's not a crueler hell.

"Speaking of 'the death of you'…" The demon smiled once more. "You see, simple people, like the meat suits you and your pathetic brother save, think that God is the only one who can condemn a soul. But you and Dean know better. We have the power too. Now more power than ever."

"Like what power?" Sam asked sharply, narrowing his eyes.

"Let's just say that God called in late today… And you're going to hell in few days, Sam."

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"Yeah right," Sam scoffed, "you can't take a soul without giving anything in return for ten years."

"On the contrary, that IV that you have in your arm this very moment is your favor to the pit."

"What?"

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy! I can't believe you haven't figured it out yet! All that time in bed and you haven't thought about why you're here?"

"Same reason as the rest. The bitch landed me in here."

"That she did. But you haven't realized that the liquid running loose through your body isn't a mortal medication at all? Come on, Sam. You're suppost to be the smart brother so I hear."

"So what the hell is it then?"

"Think of it was your first class ticket. You can't get on the plane to hell without it. The hospice is a relaxing weekend getaway where you're a cut above all the rest. Sick and sad patients on first name basis with all the top physicians. It's quite a nice way to go. More humane than hellhounds, don't you think?"

Sam snarled and cracked his neck, tired of his metaphors. The demon chuckled like Sam had just said something funny. He walked toward him with a white bottle in his hand. Sam tensed up. "Relax. Perscribed pills to offset the shakes. Take them at a day at a time." The demon handed the pills off to Sam and left the room without another word.

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Hours pass from Sam's last talk with the demon. Sam stares into the plain oblivilon in front of him. They could at least add a painting, he thought to himself. While Sam glared at the wall, he also made many unsuccessful attempts at ripping the IV out of his arm. The burning became stronger by the hour. When he first woke up the pain was like a mosquito bite compared to the selfcombustion he was enduring now. Sweat beaded down his face while he squirmed, searching for a cool spot on the sheets. It was no use. He had sweated those out too. Maybe the pills will help…

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Sam didn't sleep throughout the night. He quickly found out the pills really did help. But they made him wonder. Why would the demon tell him he was going to hell and then give him some painkillers? Aren't demons suppost to want you to suffer? He didn't know. It didn't matter. They took away the pain. After a few more hours, he was out of the pills.

"'Take them a day at a time' my ass." Sam mimicked the demon. If he didn't get them refilled soon the burning would start up again, and worse. He could feel the pills working as he swallowed one. They seemed to be a clog in the drain to the scorching liquid in the IV. He would experience the buliding and buliding of the lava sensation awaiting him if he didn't get the pills. Sam found the button to buzz the nurse after ransacking the forsaken hospital bed. He awaited her impatiently, tapping his fingers on the plastic railing.

The nurse walked in with a smile. "It's awful early to be up Sam; three o' clock to be exact." She had long curly, strawberry blonde ringlets that framed her face. She also had the most pure eyes he'd ever seen, a blue so pale they almost looked white. It was only when she turned to the side that you could see they were red. She was well endowed that's for sure. Her curves were plump and luscious; they swayed with her pefectly as she walked around the bed to check his progress. He looked at her name tag. It read Julie. He couldn't take his eyes off of her even though he detested demons more than anything right now.

Finally he remembered why he called her in there in the first place. "Could I have some more of those meds please?"

She giggled darkly, "If I had a dime everytime I heard that." She knew what was in store for him. It was all apart of the routine. The patient is dragged into a room, hooked up with a special dose of demon serum, and given one bottle of pills to hold off the pain. What he also didn't know that it was the pills that sealed his fate. After one bottle of those and you're addicted; no one would guess it's the pills themselves that allow them to take souls. Julie looked at Sam, scanning him from head to toe. She bit her lip as if holding back then grinned in a way that you would know she wasn't of this world.

He noticed her look, "What is it?"

Julie shook her head, "Nothing. I'll be right back." She chuckled slyly as she took a step out of his room.

Sam watched her walk away. Her long legs synced faultlessly with her black pumps while her lusterious curls bounced with every step. She was going to be real waste when he ganked every last demon in this joint. She came back in record speed. "Here you are Sam."

He smiled a little and she blushed. Julie left the room shortly after that, leaving Sam with his rapidly increasing addiction.

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Hours turned into days while Sam is still stuck in the ICU, alone with his thoughts and addiction. These two things and no television didn't make a good combination. Sam wanted to see Dean one more time. Just once is all it takes, just to tell him all the things he should've when he was around. Sam felt heavy from all the things left unsaid; it was nawing at him from the inside out like a maggot eating its way through a corpse. Maybe going to hell isn't such a bad idea… He wouldn't have to go through this forsaken life. He had no one to stay for, so why wait? Sam would see Dean again, if it was hell, so be it. At least he'd be with this brother again… And Dad.

Sam always wondered when John crawled out of the Devil's Gate, if his Dad had just disappeared and went back to hell, or did God take him to heaven? Sam doubted it. Demons wouldn't let the legendary Papa Winchester go so easily. Yellow Eyes had worked so hard to get him there; Sam knew that there had to be some demon that would make sure Azazel's work wasn't in vain. But even if his Dad did go to heaven in the end, the demon's legacy lives on. Azazel's blood was running through his veins, making him a freak and proclaimed demon army leader. With this damned IV, he's probably getting infected worse every mintue. As far as Sam knew, all the staff in the hospital were possessed by demons as well. The place was crawling with them like vultures around a carcase.

Sam felt a sharp pang of pain in his heart that took his breathe away. Pills. He needed his pills. The fire began to attack him. It was one affliction after another and all of them directed at major organs. Sam writhed and tried to call for help but his voice was carried off by hyperventilation. He was gasping for oxygen but it wasn't enough. He was suffocating from the torture of the flames. How he wished he could pull IV out already but it sent not only an extra shot of fire through his body, but poison of an unknown source that was worse than the blaze. The pills! Where were they?! I didn't know. It didn't matter. He was going to see Dean shortly.

His heart monitor bounced off the grid, making an alarming 'he's coding' noise. No one would help him; Sam was in a hospital full of devils. Just as his heart almost gave out, Julie ran in and shoved a pill in his mouth with so much force it hurt. No longer was she gentle like the last time he saw her. Sam swallowed hard, welcoming the capsule eagerly. Julie smiled deviously, giving him the whole bottle for him to take. He emptied it into his mouth like he was starving.

"He's on the brink of the highway to hell… Winchesters... They are so willing to throw themselves into the pit. I've never seen such easy humans to subdue." Julie thought as she watched him lick the rim of the plastic bottle to get the last of the medication.

"There's more where that came from. Don't die just yet Sam; the fun hasn't even started yet."

"Go to hell."

"See ya there, babe."

Julie walked toward his bedside and leaned over him, taking in his scent. He just looked straight forward with hate in his eyes. Julie kissed him masochisticly, then Sam did something she wasn't expecting; he kissed back with full force, pulling her into him. Julie fell into the bed, straddleing Sam. She didn't know what got had into him, but she liked it.

Maybe it was the knowledge that his soul was going to be ripped from his body and tossed into hell without getting anything in return. Most male patients go through this stage, the lust before death. The very last one night stand. Maybe he'd just been so lonely lately. Ruby was in hell, being tortured for helping him, so it was expected when Sam would need some ass sooner or later. Or maybe he just needed some entertainment. She always thought that the ICU could use a painting or a T.V.

He ran his fingers through her hair with passion as he caressed her curves. She giggled a little but let him. Sam started to unhook her bra and Julie pulled away.

"Do you really think I'm that easy?"

"Yes."

"True. But I'm not into giving pleasure. Your loss."

Julie sat up and hooked it back. She swung her right leg from beside his left one, unstraddling him and hopping off the bed. Sam sighed, disappointed.

"More pills." He barked. It was the least she could do after leading him on.

"You got it."

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The male demon meandered in Sam's room for the first time in days. He was humming an old-fashioned tune by Robert Johnson, the legendary blues singer and guitar player who was said to have sold his soul.

"Getha fuck outt," Sam stammered from all the drugs.

The demon just smiled and laughed, surveying all the empty pill bottles strewn all over the room.

"You're quite the addict Sam. I'm glad to see things have gone according to plan."

"Shutha hell upp."

"Of course, that's when you studder something profound to support my earlier line. Everything is indeed going according to plan. And with the way you've been talking every word gets you closer to hell." The demon stated with satisfaction.

Sam glared at him but didn't say a word. The demon was right and he knew it.

"Got any more pills?" Sam asked to get him leave but replenish his painkillers.

"Of course," the demon placed a full bottle on Sam's hospital table and left.

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Eat, take pills, sleep, take pills, piss, take pills and the whole damn cycle starts over again. Sam wished that they would just kill him already. It would be more eventful than being in this hospital. Julie would come by during the late hours of the night to tease him. He was alone in his bed, house and head. She never fixes this but at least she gave him a taste. She would climb in top of Sam, get him all hot and bothered, and then leave right before they actually did anything. Normally wanting to fuck demon wasn't at the top of his do to list, but some physical contact before eternity in hell would be nice.

The pain is still held at bay by the drugs but he didn't think he could go ten minutes without them. He really was going to die. Sam didn't know how all of this happened so fast. He was a better hunter than this; shit happens but not to him. Dad and Dean would be so disappointed. The last surviving Winchester, knocked out, put in the ICU for days, became an addict, and then handed over his soul for nothing. At least his family died for something, to save somebody but not little Sammy. He would kick the bucket without a fight, without any dignity or pride.

He looked over at his table; he'd taken the last of the medication. It was time to call Julie again. They had this little game going on. He would ask for the painkillers, they would makeout and on purpose she would forget to give the bottle to him. Once Sam was overtaken with fire, he would know that she gave him the slip just so he could suffer a little. Everytime he worked up enough strength to push the button to call for her before he pasted out. But he wasn't so sure if he could do it again. Sam was withering away. One. Capsule. At. A. Time. She would eventually come in and say, "Opps. I forgot something didn't I?" Julie would laugh awhile then hand them over with a wicked grin.

He would worry about getting a new bottle when he had too. Sam sighed and fell asleep for once only to be awakened about twenty minutes later with the fires of hell.

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"GET ME THE MEDS!" Sam screamed from his bed, thrashing from the excruciating agony. Several demons came in from curiousity or just because they wanted the sheer instant graification from hearing someone being tortured. With them came Julie and the male doctor. It had never been this bad before. He felt his organs sizzling inside of him, his tissues turning into ash, all the hairs on his flesh dissolving with the skin. The demon staff had to put him in restraints to keep him from trashing his hospital space.

"Careful now! You wouldn't want to wake the other patients! It's dreadfully late for you to be having another one of your angst episodes." The male doctor said to him in a manner that belittled Sam like a child.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Sam threw the demons off that were trying to hold him down. He stood up for the first time in days but found inner strength from the immense pain. Sam yanked the IV from his arm with his teeth. It scalded his skin more than anything but he didn't care. As he pulled the wire out, he found why it was so hard to get it to release him in the first place. Sam stared at the IV in disbelieve. It had not only one main tube to inject him with the serum, but it branched off into tiny ones that latched onto every blood vessel it could in your arm. The place where the IV went into his limb was turning a black plague color. The dark sores outlined the veins up his shoulder.

"I'VE HAD UP TO HERE WITH THIS FUCKING PLACE!"

"By all means, you can leave here… We just need your soul first."

"Well you're not gettin' it!"

Sam took off running out of the room. All the demons he pasted as he fled chased after him. Soon he heard, 'Code red. Repeat. Code red. We got a runner' over the intercom. Sam hit a dead end in one of the hallways. One nurse cornered him with a smile.

"You're not going anywhere Sam," she said with confidence.

He ran towards her full speed ahead and crushed his skull against her's. Sam didn't even look back to see the demon collapse, out cold on the linoleum. He just kept running to freedom. The alarms sounded throughout the buliding, signaling his getaway.

"Don't look back Sam. Just keep running. Make your life something. Carry on Dean's legacy. Dad's legacy. Don't let it all go to waste. Run faster godamnit! You're never gonna get out of here if you don't haul some ass!" Sam shouted to himself. His tall, atlethic legs just kept pumping and pumping. Up ahead he saw an entrance. Behind him he could hear the thousands of footsteps on his heels. They were hissing at him to just give up. That it was his destiny to die here. That he was to be with his family, reunited in hell. They knew his weaknesses and threw them at him, desparate attempts to bring him to his knees. They weren't working. Sam was on his way out of this literal hell hole.

The glass doors where closing rapidly and he was only a few feet away. If he could just take. A. Few. More. Steps.

Thump, thump.

Thump, thump.

Thump, thump.

His crazed heartrate seemed to beat in slow motion. His life was depending on just one. More. Move.

The doors closed as soon as he reached them. Sam rammed through the glass, shattering the entry and fileting his flesh with the shards. He slammed into the pavement face first. He got up quickly, they might chase him down. Sam started to sprint across the highway. Cars crashed into each other to avoid an accident but he was untouched. He noticed the demons had given up, that he was just running into the night aimlessly. Sam knew he should stop. It didn't matter. Sam had just escaped the hospice. It was a relaxing weekend getaway where he was a cut above all the rest with sick and sad patients on first name basis with all the top physicians and boy, was he glad to be liberated.

FIN.

I hope you liked it! I spent an enormous amount of time writing this, so reviews would be VERY much APPRECIATED!