A:N- I should have mentioned this in the first chapter _ MAJOR SPOILER ALERT XD lol anyway, a slight warning,

Warning- This follows the episode BUT I have changed some things so I guess it goes slightly AU- some of the things said and/or portrayed in this chapter were made up- or similar circumstances. Blah. Okay done. Lol

Will be one more chapter! Will update soon :) Thank you for the reviews/favs, follows! Yall are awesome! I will try an respond to them shortly!

Enjoy! Might be mistakes/misspellings-errors, will fix later on! Thank you!


Sam looked at the camera, staring into it with determined eyes, set on making the girls watch as he didn't falter like they were expecting but it wasn't long before he started to feel agitated. The pain hadn't subsided and seemed to intense with the passing minutes that ticked by agonizingly slow.

Biting his lip, he tried to ignore the growing heat that warmed up his body. It was as if small flames were tickling his skin, heating up his blood almost to a boiling point. Sam wasn't sure if it was from his recent injuries that had beads of sweat forming on his forehead or the substance he was injected with while he was out, whatever it was. He could feel it flowing through his veins like burning lava, infecting him with hell fire itself, swiftly riding his blood like a canoe on waves.

His already aching body shivered as a draft found its way into the small basement from the cracks of the ceiling, sweeping past him and piercing his damp clothes like sharp icicles. The coolness soaked through the material and went straight through him like ice, making him shiver harder to the point his teeth chattered. He didn't know which was worse, feeling your insides catch fire or having your body incased with a ice cold clothe. Sam's body was a mass of both.

Throwing his head back, teeth clenched, he closed his eyes and focused on breathing. In and out.

Sam gasped, his neck was on fire and his head started to pound with fury and as much force of a hammer coming down on a nail. It was sudden and for a moment Sam thought his head was going to burst open with how much pressure was being applied.

He doesn't know when he moved. One minute he was in the chair and the next he had shot up to his feet and was holding his head in his hands. The chair was long forgotten and discarder on the floor, having been thrown back with the strength Sam shot to his feet. It didn't occur to him that he was standing. His attention was drawn on the massive pounding in his head and the drowned out voices that made themselves known in his head, voices that sounded like they were underwater.

Sam unconscious backed away. The pain in his leg and foot didn't register as he put unnecessary weight on them.

There was a sharp ringing that overtook the noises. Sam bent over with a gasp in emotional distress as it grew loud. With a intake of breath, his hands went from his head to his ears in a attempt to silence the ringing. Yet, it was all that he could hear.

He couldn't stop his legs from going out from under him and he fell to the cold floor to his knees. His inners burned with flames of orange and threatened to burn him from the inside out. "Gah!"

The noises were back, replacing the buzzing with a voice he hadn't heard for over thirty years but still knew who it was. She was the love of his life, the one person besides Dean that meant more to him than his own life.

Sam froze as the familiar voice spoke in sadness and betrayal. Why Sam?

Sam's head shot up and he was met with a white fog of smoke and the face of his girlfriend, Jessica staring at him with despair. Her eyes a hollow shell, empty of life as she burned, flames dancing around her in a harsh light and show of red. "No...Jess..." Sam reached out, desperately trying to touch her, to tell her he was sorry, his eyes wide and shinning with tears.

Sam. Why? Her image started to disappear before vanishing completely leaving a dumbfounded Sam to stare in the spot she occupied, his hand still extended out towards the person he would never touch again.

Sam clenched his eyes shut at the phantom pain piercing his racing heart. Even though it was over ten years that she died Sam could still see her burning on that ceiling like it happened yesterday. Jessica's dead stare fixed on him, mouth agape, her beautiful golden hair hanging down, tears streaming down her face. It was branded into his brain to remind him of how, because of him, she was killed and it was all his fault. The demon wanted him and killed Jessica in order to set his plans in motions. If Sam didn't have demon blood in him, if he wasn't some kind of freak, Jess would have been safe.

Sam knew it was the drug coursing through his veins that was making him hallucinate, he was prepared for it, but the truth hurts. Even though he was ready for the horrible images that would no doubt plague his mind, he was not ready for just how painful and true they were.

He had got Jess killed.

Listen to me. It wasn't your fault.

Dean's words from then came to mind and he remembered how much determination and belief was in his brothers voice. Dean, who always thought of Sam as a person who couldn't hurt a fly. Dean, who didn't believe that his little brother was a monster, a blood thirsty killer and would kick anyone's ass who thought otherwise. Dean, who protected him and saved him more times than he could count.

Dean, who stuck by him when he went spiraling into a dark abyss of evil. He stood by him when Sam trusted a demon and used new found powers, when he relentlessly wrapped his arms around Dean's throat and proceeded to choke the life how of him, when he killed lillith and set Lucifer free. Everytime Sam found himself falling in the darkness Dean was always there to pull him up and back into the light.

Sam's chest ached at the thought of Dean. His brother was dead. He was alone, on his own. That alone broke him but he made a promise to himself that he would continue to fight.

Saving people, hunting things.

The family business.

Sam wasn't planning on letting the British women get what they wanted. Dean wouldn't, he'd be fighting to get out of there and so was he.

"This how you're going to get it out of me? Hallucinations? You're going to have to do better than that." Sam stated looking into the camera, his breath coming in pants.


The women, Toni, watched as Sam stared her down through the lens. She couldn't help the small amount of sympathy that she felt towards the Winchester. She never liked torture, especially when it could hit so close to home. She knew enough about the Winchester to know just how dark their past was and he was seeing it like a rerun thanks to the drug she gave him but her job was clear and she would get what she wanted, one way or another, even if that meant bleeding Sam dry until all his blood coating the floor in scarlet, then so be it.

"You'll be singing a different tune soon." She mumbled under her breath.

She continued to watch him with narrowed eyes.


Sam closed his eyes. Breathing was difficult. His heart was pounding so fast it felt like it was going to have a heart attack.

Sam. It's all because of you.

Sam jerked. Keeping his eyes shut, he swallowed thickly at the new voice. He grew up listening to it his whole life. It was the voice that soothed him when he managed to skin his knee on the playground, comforted him when he was scared because of a thunder storm. It was the thing that convinced him that living was better than dying when he came to deaths door after the trials. Filled with worry, anger and desperation, it was Dean.

Yet now, it was emotionless, taunting even as it sounded behind him.

Sammy. I'm dead and for what? You? Your constant need of attention because you can't do anything right. Its because of you. I'm dead, because of you little brother.

Sam jerked again, his head whipping around fast enough to give him whip flash. He sucked in a breath at seeing Dean standing before him. His expression unreadable, eyes void of emotion, locked on Sam.

Dean stood, his clothes torn and shredded stained with blood. Cuts mirrored his face. Large gashes and bruises covered his skin, skin that was almost black as coal.

Sam's breathing picked up at the sight of his broken brother. "Dean...? No..." His shoulders shook with barely controlled emotion.

Dean's head tilted to the side, orbs dark and calculating. Why? Where did I go wrong Sam? I tried but you're a lost cause. There's no saving me. There's no saving you.

Dean's body glowed in a harsh yellow. Golden sparks of light reaching to the heavens shot out from his arms, face, chest. You killed me, Sam.

Sam's eyes grew large and he reached out, desperate to grab Dean as he continued to glow. So many emotions were consuming him. Fear, desperation, shock, sadness. Most of all, helplessness. "Dean!" Sam called out just as the light exploded, throwing him back to the floor.

Sam opened his eyes to find Dean was no longer there.

I'm dead, were all dead, because of you Sam. Dean's voice still echoed all around him.

You're a freak Sam. It's you fault.

Your fault.

Sam stood on shaky legs. He spotted a mirror on the wall and walked over to it. The hallucinations were worse than his withdrawal and the weight of his injuries, the liquid running throughout his system, and the ghosts of the past worked as one to drag him down. Sam could feel his body start to fail with mental and physical exhaustion but he pushed himself to keep moving forward.

Were dead because of you! It screamed.

Sam gripped both sides of the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was a mess of unruly strands, face pale from blood loss and pain. Dark bags hung heavily under his eyes, that were weary and tired. He looked pitiful.

"You're right." He called out, loud enough so that the women could hear him.

Its true that he believed that it was his fault. Everything happened because of him. Since being born, he was the cause of everything. Yellow eyes, Lucifer, the end of the world.

Truth is, we keep each other human.

There's no me without you.

How about we continue doing what we do. Fighting the good fight, kicking demon ass and going down swinging.

You didn't ask for the demon blood, Sam. Something isn't your fault when its something you never even wanted in the first place!

You and me. We got this, Sammy.

Even so, Dean was always there to remind him that it wasn't all his fault.

Even though Dean was dead, it seems he's still reminding him of that right now.

Your fault.

All your fault.

Sam knew what he had to do.

Drawing his fist back he used what strength he did have and drove his hand into the mirror. Glass cracked and shattered, falling into the sink in pieces. Sam hardly felt the glass that had bit into his hand at the force and ignored the warm feeling of blood bubbling to the surface. His eyes were on the broken shards in the porcelain. Sam grabbed a piece of the glass and gripped it firmly in his hand. Its sharp edges scarping at his palm.

Hallucination or not, Dean's words stung worse than the glass he held onto in a death grip.

Just die, Sam!

Why won't you die!

It's your fault.

Ignoring the hurt the fake Dean caused, Sam brought the shard up to his neck.


Toni watched with dismay and disbelief as Sam place a piece of broken glass to his own neck.

She watched in horror as he moved the glass in one swift movement across before dropping to the floor in a heap.

"No." She stood and grabbed the taser from the table before going to the door of the basement and unlocking it.

With caution, she made her way down the steps.

The room stunk of blood and sweat.

Toni took a deep breath and proceeding by extending the taser rod out and towards the seemingly unconscious man on the floor. Her movements were slow and cautious. She wasn't sure if he was really unconscious, maybe dead or if that was a hunters trick. Either way, she knew she had to check. Sam was vital and she needed him alive.

Toni knew it was a mistake the moment the end of the rod touched him because with strength he shouldn't even have with how much blood he lost, he suddenly turned and knocked it out of her grasp. Her expression took one of shock as he made it swiftly to his feet and wrapped his hand around her small neck.

Sam pushed Toni back until her back touched the wall. He kept a firm hold on her neck. His furious gaze caught hers. A look of anger written across features, hazel orbs blazing.

Toni gripped his hand. She berated herself. How could she be so careless, so stupid.

Sam held up his hand revealing a long gash and fresh blood flowing from the self inflicted wound. "Maybe you're not as good at your job as you think." He stated, panting with effort.

Applying pressure, Sam watched Toni's air get cut off, her lungs being forced to be repressed as he sustained her necessity to breath. Her face started to turn red from lack of oxygen flow to her brain and her eyes fluttered and shut.

Sam, convinced that he had knocked her out completely, let go and watched her slide to the floor.

He took a deep breath, letting out a tired sigh. Sam turned around and walked towards the open door showering the basement in light, his way back to freedom, completely forgetting about the woman.

He made it two steps before he felt electricity going through his leg causing him to fall with a grunt.

Toni, who had not been unconscious, whether by the lack of strength Sam possessed or dumb luck, pulled herself to her feet and grabbed the abandoned rod from the floor. She quickly used it to taser Sam before he could make his way out and she ran past him when he went down.

Sam's hand shot out gripping her ankle causing her to lose her balance and fall. She wasted no time tasering him again making him abandoned his grip. She wasted no time getting up and trying to get away. Only Sam wasn't going to give up that easily.

He grabbed her again, desperately trying to keep her from getting out first.

Toni used a more effective way of getting him to let go by kicking him in the face, effectively disorienting him enough to make it up the stairs and on the other side of the door. She hurriedly shut it, Sam's grief stricken pleas going unheard to her as she locked the door.

"No! No!" Sam banged the door over and over again in despair, jarring his injured hand causing him to hiss in pain.

Sam allowed himself to slide a few steps down. He gripped his throbbing palm, grief and anger mingling his senses. He was so close but due to weakness Sam realized he wasn't able to fully knock her out.

He inwardly cursed.

The fight was slowly leaving him. His body ached in every part. His Head continued to pound without an ounce of sympathy. His skin was pale and clammy with sweat rolling down the sides of his face and neck. Sam's breathing came in fast strides due to fatigue and exhaustion, both mind and body shutting down without his consent.

Sam leaned his head against the wall. A sense of hopelessness washed over him. He swallowed. His throat was raw from screaming. He was completely drained of energy.

The drug that was in his system was starting to lose effect and he allowed himself to relax though he was hurting immensely.

His thoughts drifted

Dean...im sorry.