Chapter Two
November 3rd, 1997
Sam shivered even though he wasn't cold, and looked around, well what he supposed was his room now. He chuckled bitterly to himself as he realised that he had had to be committed for him to finally get his own bedroom. Sniffling a little and wiping the sleeve of his hoodie over his face, Sam gave a small sigh and then walked over to sit on his bed. He finally given in the night before and called for Lo. Either the man hadn't heard him, couldn't hear him… or he didn't care. Sam wasn't too sure what he wanted the answer to be. He shuffled to the corner of his bed and hugged his legs to his body. With a glance to the door, Sam sighed again and nuzzled his nose into the hoodie, breathing in the smell of Lo and letting it soothe his nerves a little.
Sam's eyes were drawn to his door when it opened and a young looking nurse walked in, smiling at him brightly. Sam tightened his grip on his legs, making himself look as small as possibly. He watched her with wide, wary eyes, fingers twisting in his sleeves.
"Hello, Sam! I'm Nurse Amanda, I'm one of the nurses on this floor so we'll be getting to know one another pretty well. How are you feeling today? Have you been over to the rec room yet? You might meet some people you like. Meet some friends!" Amanda told him, still with her ever present smile. Sam just stared at her silently, wondering why she was in there in the first place. "I was told by the nurse on shift last night that you refused to give up your sweater. You ready to take it off yet? We'll give it back to you once we've washed it."
"No," Sam muttered, trying to make himself even smaller. He possibly hadn't had the best reaction to them trying to take his hoodie from him the night before, but it was the only thing he had that reminded him that Lo was real and not, like everyone was trying to tell him, imaginary.
"Okay, but one day you're going to have to take it off, honey. Well then, you going to come with me to the rec room? The other kids on this floor really are nice, you'll make good friends," Amanda told him, and Sam watched her warily as she moved to lean one the wall across from him. He noticed that she kept her body language open and caring, but she still didn't turn her back on him. Apparently he possibly shouldn't have bitten and attacked the guy that had tried to take the hoodie from him. He did tell them that he didn't want to give it up, first though.
"No."
"Right, well tomorrow you're not going to have much choice in the matter, I'm afraid. But seeing as today is your first full day here, we'll let you get used to things and stay in this room," Amanda told him with a bright smile. "I'll leave you to yourself for a little while then. Our records on you did state that you preferred to be alone. You have an appointment with Dr Chaudhery later on though. It's after lunch, so you have a bit of time. Is there anything I can get for you? Within reason of course."
Sam eyed her cautiously, wondering what he could ask for that would be within reason. Apparently the nurse sensed his hesitation and just smiled at him encouragingly, "can I read?"
"Hmm, I'll have to ask your Doctor, but I don't see that it could be much a problem. You're on one of the more open wings, so that gives you a few more privileges than the floors above," Amanda told him, and Sam didn't think that sounded as good as she was making it sound given he was on the fourth floor of a six story building. He wondered just how much freedom the people on the floors below him got. Amanda then shifted and moved towards the door, turning back to smile at him brightly. "I'll come back with your book shortly should I find out if you can have one. Do you have any preference?"
"No."
"No? Non-fiction? Fiction? No preferred type?" She asked him and Sam just shrugged and shook his head. Somehow he didn't think they'd have the kind of books he really preferred to read. Nor did he think it would be a good idea to enquire about them. They already thought he was insane enough for the fourth floor, he didn't want to be bumped up to the fifth. "Right, okay then. I'll be back in a little bit then, okay?"
Sam nodded at her and then looked away to the barred window in his room. He wasn't too sure Lo was ever going to find him. And he hadn't seen Taney since the day after Lo had left. Sam was pretty sure he was alone in this now. He just had to make sure he stayed out of the shadows.
"So, Sam. I'd like to talk to you about Lo again today, I think. Is that okay?" Chaudhery asked him later that day. Sam just stared at him silently before he gave a small sigh and nodded his head. He had no idea what he could say anymore. Twisting his fingers around the sleeves of his hoodie, Sam huddled down on the seat and waited for the inane questioning to begin.
Really, it was pointless in Sam's eyes. He would never say what Chaudhery wanted him to say and Chaudhery probably knew that as well. They would just be going round and round in circles.
"So, when did you first 'meet' your friend?" Chaudhery asked him and Sam could also envision the punctuation marks when he said 'meet'.
"I was four." Sam watched Chaudhery nod his head and make a note on the paper in front of him, before he looked up at Sam again and smiled, placing the clipboard on the coffee table between them.
"And Lo, was he about the same age as you? Or was he older maybe?" Chaudhery asked him. Sam shrugged a little and looked down at his fingers.
"Can I put my feet on the chair?" Sam asked instead of answering. Chaudhery just smiled at him and nodded. Sam gave a small smile of thanks back - he was polite after all, and really, Chaudhery hadn't actually done anything wrong to him - and tucked his legs underneath him on the seat.
"Are you ready to answer my questions now?"
"Lo is… he's a little older than me. He looked about the same age as me when we were four, but he kinda ages faster than we do. I dunno. I think it's because he's not human," Sam explained, not really bothering with hiding the truth. Wasn't like the man opposite thought Lo was real. Why hide anything?
"He's not human? I got the impression he was from conversations with your teachers and your father. What is he if not a human then, Sam?"
"A trickster. He's the Norse god." Chaudhery reached over and picked up his clipboard, writing on it, before he paused and looked at Sam.
"Would you mind if I recorded our sessions? It would save me from having to write specific things down that I might find important. Let me give you my full attention," Chaudhery explained. Sam nibbled his lip, not too sure if he wanted these conversations on permanent record, but then, if the man would be writing notes down anyway…
"Okay."
"Thank you," Chaudhery said, once more placing the clipboard on the table only this time he reached into his pocket afterwards and pulled out a small recorder and placed it on the table also. "Now, you said Lo was… a trickster?"
"Yes. The trickster. The Norse Trickster God, Loki. Lo was the nickname he gave himself when he met me," Sam told him, smiling softly as he thought about that day and how much fun they'd had. They hadn't gone back to Uncle Bobby's quite as often after that day.
John had told them, whenever Dean or Sam had enquired, that Uncle Bobby was too busy to watch over them. But Sam knew the real reason behind it was because of himself. He'd overheard a hushed argument between the two men. Apparently Uncle Bobby had believed Sam that Lo was real right from the off.
"And when did he tell you his full title?" Chaudhery asked him in a soothing voice. Sam frowned a little, trying to think back to it and then grinned.
"About two years later. Dean had been mean to me, put salt in my milky tea instead of sugar. Lo told me we should get him back. That his job was to put people back in their place. So we did," Sam said, still smiling, chuckling as he recalled Dean's reaction.
"So Lo has been Loki since you were about six then?" Chaudhery asked him, making Sam frown at the wording.
"No, Lo's always been Loki. He told me about it when I was six however. Different thing," Sam muttered petulantly. Crossing his arms over his chest, Sam settled back to just glower at the man in front of him.
"You haven't spoken of Lo since you came here. Haven't spoken to him, either. Is he not with you right now, Sam?" Chaudhery asked, and Sam narrowed his eyes at the man. He couldn't see where the man was heading with this. It wasn't like they'd dosed him with anything other than sedatives so far, so he surely couldn't think they'd done something right because Lo wasn't around. Sam was fairly sure they hadn't given him anything. He was possibly clinging on to the hope that they couldn't drug him without actually telling him first.
He was possibly being naive about that, but he really didn't want to think he was. He hoped he wasn't.
"He's not here," Sam said, narrowing his eyes at the man. Sam figured he had two choices at this point; let the man think Sam was no longer seeing Lo - which he wasn't, but not because Lo didn't exist - and possibly think that the drugs they might be pumping him with were working, or tell him about the others.
"Any why is that, do you think?" Chaudhery asked him. Sam just stared at the man, it certainly wasn't because Lo didn't exist. His thoughts were possibly getting a little repetitive, but really, Sam didn't know what the other man wanted from him. They both knew he wouldn't be let out if he suddenly did a u-turn and told them they were right all along and Lo didn't exist. So why bother?
"He has other duties. You know, being a god and all. I'd imagine it's a rather busy day job to have. He can't always be with me," Sam said, trying to come across as nonchalant, but given that his voice wavered a little, he didn't think he'd succeeded.
"But you want him to be?" Yep, hadn't succeeded on the nonchalant front. Sam just shrugged. No way was he going to admit that out loud. If only for his own well being. "What is your relationship with Lo?"
Sam blinked in shock. That hadn't been a question he'd expected. At least, not this early into his time in the Loony Bin.
"We're friends."
"You never perhaps projected any feelings on to him that were not platonic?"
"If by projected, do you mean I had a crush on him or thought he had one on me?" Sam asked, feeling a little unbalanced by the whole conversation. He no longer knew what he should say, was supposed to say or really didn't want to say for fear of coming across as completely insane. Which he was already doing a bang up job of in the first place and he really didn't want to make issues even worse than they already were.
"Were you attracted to him?" Chaudhery asked him, leaning forward a little on his seat. Sam just wondered why he was talking in the past tense. Did the man now think Sam no longer thought Lo existed? Or was dead, possibly.
"He is attractive," Sam admitted with a small shrug, tightening his arms around his waist and looking down, nibbling at his lip. It struck him as bizarre that he admitted he was possibly gay - for an invisible man admittedly - to a complete stranger whilst locked up in a mental hospital. He possibly did belong there after all.
"And he returned your feelings?"
"Does it matter?"
"No, I suppose it doesn't. So back to Lo again. You say he's not here at the moment. Will he be coming back later on today do you think? Do you think you could go in to the rec room instead? Make other friends?" Chaudhery asked him. Sam wanted to ask him if the man wanted to add 'that we can see' on the end of that, but bit his tongue against the temptation.
"He won't be back for a while," Sam mumbled, closing his eyes so that he didn't humiliate himself completely by breaking down in sobs at that admission.
"Do you perhaps think there is another reason for that?"
"Like I've accepted he no longer exists? You can't accept something doesn't exist when you know it does. That's called denial. I may only be a child in your eyes, but I do know enough about the world to know that," Sam snapped, scowling at Chaudhery for making him finally give in to the urge to argue with him.
Clearly the man truly did think that Lo's absence was now partly due to his help. Sam wasn't going to let him continue with that belief. If this man was trying to shatter his beliefs, Sam was going to return the favour.
"But you're no longer seeing him? When did he leave for this business of his?" Sam scowled at him but didn't think there could be any harm in answering truthfully.
"Last week."
"And you haven't seen him since then?"
"He's not the only one, you know. Just because you can't see things, it doesn't mean they're not there. It's a naive and somewhat stupid belief to cling to, Doctor," Sam told him. He wanted to tell the man that continuing with that belief would just get himself killed, but he didn't want Chaudhery to think he was threatening him in some way.
"So you see other things as well? Such as?" Chaudhery asked him, leaning forward a little to push the recorder even closer to Sam. Apparently the man really didn't want to miss any of this.
"If you open your eyes and allow yourself to accept the existence of the supernatural, Doctor Chaudhery, then you wouldn't need me to tell you," Sam mumbled, shifting on the chair to hug his legs to his chest. He was exhausted. He didn't want to play games anymore and try to confuse the doctor. He just wanted to go back to his room.
No, he wanted Lo back.
"Are they with you now?"
"No. No they're not. I'm alone here. I have no one anymore," Sam whispered, hugging his legs as close to his chest as he possibly could and pressing his face to his knees.
"You know you're not alone here, don't you, Sam? Our session is about at an end, so why don't I have Nurse Amanda take you to the rec room. Perhaps you might make a friend or two here. You're not alone though, Sam," Chaudhery told him in a soft voice. Sam just sniffled and shook his head.
"He can't find me anymore."
"Try to make some friends, Sam. And don't get upset, your brother and father will be coming in a couple of days to visit." Sam looked up from his knees to see Chaudhery reach over and turn the recorder off before placing it in his jacked pocket once more.
"Dean's coming to visit?" If he couldn't have Lo, Dean was a close second for Sam. He just wanted to see someone he knew. Someone he knew loved him and believed him.
"He is. Two days from now on Friday."
November 4th, 1997
Sam narrowed his eyes when Nurse Amanda walked into his room with an overly bright smile on her face, and two other male nurses walking in behind her. Judging by the less than friendly looks on their faces - quite frankly, they looked bored - Sam knew he wasn't going to like whatever it was they were in his room for.
"Morning, Sam! We decided that maybe you could give up your hoodie today, possibly? Do you think you could do that perhaps?" Amanda asked him, as cheerful as ever. Which was ironic as Sam saw absolutely nothing to be cheerful about. Not that he ever really did since Lo had left him.
"No." Okay, so it was childish and obstinate, but he was fourteen, being held against his will and he really didn't want to give the hoodie up. It still smelt like Lo if he breathed deep enough. He didn't want to give it up. He couldn't.
"Now, Samuel. You have to give it to us so that we can wash it. We will return it right back to you," Amanda told him, sounding less cheerful now that she apparently realised Sam was having none of it.
"Why? It's not dirty. I'm not taking it off," Sam snapped, scowling and wrapping his arms around his body. He stiffened when both the male nurses stepped forward.
"Mr Campbell, we need to take the hoodie from you. Either you give it t us, or we're going to have to take it off you by force." Sam blinked, then remembered that his father had decided to admit him under the name Campbell for some reason. Sam honestly had no idea why but didn't really think much of it. Then what the bulkier of the two men had said, hit in and Sam gaped at them.
"You can't! I'm a minor! You can't touch me in anyway! I know! I know this stuff!" Sam exclaimed, only getting an unimpressed look for his troubles.
"Kid, you're so far from my type that you have nothing to worry about on that front. Look, just give us the damned hoodie. What's so special about it anyway?" The man asked him, frustration bleeding through in his tone.
"It's mine! It-it-I don't want to give it up! Why do you have to take it anyway? It's not doing anyone any harm!" Sam exclaimed, scowling and shuffling back on his bed to press into the corner. He tensed and hugged his arms around his body even tighter when the bulkier man stepped next to the bed and crouched down.
"Sam, here's the deal, you give us your hoodie without any fuss and we'll give it right back to you once it's been washed. Deal?" The man said calmly, reaching out to Sam. Sam glared at him and then kicked out, shaking his head as he pressed as close to the wall as he could.
"No! No, I won't! I can't! It's not mine! It's Lo's! He gave it me! You can't take it!" Sam screamed, kicking at the nurse once more, before biting at him when he tried to restrain him.
"Right, Amanda, you're gonna have to sedate him. Joe, hold his legs down," The man told the two nurses behind him, Sam whimpered and tried to get away, kicking and trying to buck the two men holding him down off of him.
"No! Please! I don't want-" Sam stopped and gasped in pain when he felt the sharp prick of a needle being stabbed into him. He whimpered and gave a soft sob even as he felt the darkness encroaching. "No, dun wanna. Said no shadows."
Sam struggled and blinked, trying to keep awake. He watched as the three nurses kept an eye on him, moving him so he was comfortable on the bed, and gave one last feeble sob when he felt his hoodie being taken off of him. He finally gave in to the darkness, tears drying to leave long tracks down his cheeks.
November 5th, 1997
Sam fidgeted in the seat he was sitting in, waiting for his father and Dean to get here for their visit. The visiting family members and the patient were given a small private room to have their visit in. Sam actually liked the room. It was warm and comforting, the walls actually painted in natural earthy colours, along with the chairs in similar colours. Sam considered asking if he was allowed to come and read in one of these rooms instead of being forced to go to the rec room.
"Sammy!" Sam spun in his chair and felt himself smile for the first time in what felt like years when he saw Dean standing in the doorway, their dad standing just behind him, smiling softly.
"Dean!" Sam jumped out of his seat and ran to throw himself at his brother. The force knocked Dean back and John had to steady Dean. Dean laughed and wrapped his arms tightly around Sam.
"Missed you, Sammy," Dean whispered, shocking Sam by actually pressing a small kiss to Sam's temple. He then gently nudged Sam back a little and moved aside for John to greet Sam. John grabbed Sam's shoulders and pulled him into a bear hug, giving Sam the overwhelming urge to burst into tears.
Finally pulling back from his dad, Sam turned and walked back to the seat he had taken as his own - hopefully for more than just family visits - and waited for Dean and their dad to join him.
"So, Sammy, you doing alright?" Dean asked, breaking the brief silence they had fallen into as they all took their seats. Sam smiled weakly at Dean and shrugged silently. He wasn't too sure how to answer that.
"I'm doing okay," is what he finally settled on. The look both his brother and father shot him showed they didn't quite believe that.
"Chaudhery says that you haven't mentioned Lo at all since you got here. Even went so far as to say that you'd told him Lo wasn't around anymore. That true, Sammy?" John asked him in a soft voice. Sam watched Dean however, when his brother shot him a narrow eyed look.
"Sammy? Really? Lo's not here?"
"No. He's… no."
"You think Lo might be gone for good, son?" John asked him and Sam looked at him with wide eyes, finally feeling the fear he'd been trying to ignore since he'd been committed. Shaking his head and sniffling, Sam moved to hug his legs to his body once more.
"Sammy. Hey, hey, Sammy. Come on. It's gonna be alright," Dean soothed, moving so that he could squeeze onto the chair behind Sam and pulled him onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him in comfort. Sam twisted and pressed his face into Dean's neck, letting his tears fall and sobbing quietly.
"I wanna go home, Dean. I don't want to be here," Sam sobbed. He felt another hand come to rub his back and pulled back a little to see his dad kneeling in front of them, looking distressed and helpless.
"Sammy, you need help. You can see that right?" John asked him, sounding distressed and almost begging his son to understand. Sam was tired with all the pretending he was doing however and wasn't too sure he could anymore. He just nodded silently and pressed his face back into Dean's neck. Behind him, John just sighed, whilst Dean whispered something to him that Sam couldn't quite hear.
A few moments of silence later and Sam heard the door to the room open then close quietly. Sam pulled back to look at Dean in confusion, glancing around to see that their dad had just left.
"Dean?"
"I asked Dad to step out for a minute or two. That okay? If not, I can call him back in," Dean told him with a small, weak smile. Sam looked at him for a second or two, before he nodded and shifted to just lean against Dean.
"Why'd you ask him to leave?" Sam asked once he and Dean had settled back on the chair and were comfortably wrapped around one another once more.
"I wanted to talk to you alone. About Lo?" Dean asked, hushing Sam and rubbing his back when Sam stiffened in his hold.
"What about him?"
"I think he's real. Who is he, Sammy? Why haven't you told us the truth?" Sam just stared at Dean in shock. He'd suspected and maybe hoped a little that Dean believed him about Lo, but he hadn't actually been prepared to hear it. He also possibly hadn't considered just what Dean would have thought about Lo.
November 8th, 1997
Sam silently watched Chaudhery set up the recorder on the table between them once more and sighed quietly when Chaudhery moved to sit back on his seat and smile kindly at Sam. Really, Sam was beginning to hate the man just for those kind smiles.
"Today I'd like for us to talk about your family, if that's okay with you, Sam?" Chaudhery asked him. Sam stared at him before he just shrugged. Wasn't like he could do anything to dissuade the man in the first place.
Chaudhery sighed in a way that suggested Sam was disappointing him in being recalcitrant or something. It wasn't as though Sam was actually the worst patient in the place.
"So, I gathered from your meeting yesterday that you are close to your brother. Am I right on that?"
"I suppose," Sam admitted with a shrug. He wasn't too sure how to answer, if he was honest. Sure, he was close to Dean, but probably not as close as they may have looked yesterday. Sam generally used to go to Lo first whenever he was upset. But he always knew Dean was there for him, and he knew that Dean was the one to keep quite a few bullies off his back if Lo didn't get there first.
"How does Dean feel about Lo?"
"He hated him when we were kids. Used to scoff at me and call me childish most of the time," Sam said with a small shrug. He didn't feel the least bit uncomfortable that he was mostly lying through his teeth. Sam would fight tooth and nail to keep Dean out of this. They may not be as close as they possibly could have been, but they were brothers. Dean had looked out for and protected Sam all Sam's life, now it was Sam's turn to return the favour.
No one could find out that Dean believed Sam about Lo. Sam had to deal with that on his own. He'd brought it on himself by being honest and not pretending Lo had gone, like the trickster had suggested when John had first shown signs of being worried.
"And now?"
"Now I think he's worried about me. No, I know he's worried about me," Sam added after a small pause. He looked down at his hands and began to pick at a loose thread on his t-shirt.
"Why do you think he's worried about you?" Chaudhery asked him, and Sam couldn't stop himself from looking up to send the man a look that suggested he was completely stupid. Which Sam was beginning to wonder. He also wondered how polite it would seem if he casually asked to see the man's credentials.
"He's my brother. I'm locked up in a mental asylum. Who wouldn't be worried if someone they loved was in that situation?" Sam asked, not even bothering to hide the disbelief in his voice.
"Good point. So let's talk more about your childhood with Dean, shall we?" Chaudhery asked and Sam sighed, knowing there wasn't any point in asking for a change in subject. That would just mean talking about Lo if Chaudhery even went for it.
"There's not much to talk about," Sam mumbled, actually telling the truth for once. Dean was there, he was a constant in Sam's life and Sam had always known he could rely on him. He also knew, though, that he and Dean were a little too different in their likes and dislikes for them to actually be able to carry out a civilised conversation that wouldn't end up in a fight and then weeks of pranking one another.
"Your father told me that you tended to travel a lot because of his job, I'd imagine that made making friends in school rather difficult. Do you think this made you and Dean closer than perhaps you would have been had you stayed in one place?"
"Who knows? Dean's always been better at making friends than I have anyway. He was never without someone to talk to or hang out with. And I had Lo, I didn't need anyone else. Dean was there for me should I need him and he knew the same applied with me should he need me. We were close, but we weren't best friends. Is that what you want to hear?"
"I don't want to hear anything in particular, Sam. I just want to talk to you, perhaps see if we can find out a reason for Lo," `Chaudhery told him. Sam shot him a venomous glare at the insinuation that Lo wasn't real once more. There were small parts of Sam that wondered if perhaps he was right, but those doubts were soon stomped down. If only because he needed to believe Lo existed. If he didn't, Sam had no one.
"There is a reason for him. People who think too highly of themselves need to be dropped down a peg or two. Lo is the one to do that, along with a couple of other tricksters from other cultures. The point is, Lo does have a reason for existing and it's certainly not got anything to do with me or my imagination."
"Oh yes, Lo is the Norse Trickster, Loki. I believe, however, that you subconsciously created Lo, a powerful god, to be your friend because you didn't feel like you met up to your family's ideas about you perhaps," Chaudhery told him calmly, Sam just gaped at him, not entirely sure why or how he'd come to that conclusion.
"My dad and Dean never gave the impression that I'd ever done anything to disappoint them. Why would I feel I wasn't living up to their expectations? I mean, I was a straight-A student, kept on top of all my homework, didn't really get into trouble. Why would I create Lo when I was doing fine on my own?"
"But you weren't, were you? All that you've just mentioned has happened since Lo came into existence. You admitted yourself that you were only four when you created him-"
"I didn't create him! He's real! I don't know what I can do to make you believe that, but he is and no amount of psycho-babble is going to change my mind about any of this! What is the point?" Sam finally snapped, jumping from his seat in anger, hands clenched into fists at his side as he glared at the doctor and yelled out his frustrations.
"Sit down, Sam," Chaudhery told him calmly, which just made Sam clench his jaw and glare even more, though he still sat down. He'd already been sedated once, thank you, he didn't want that to happen again. "Sam, I've spoken to your father when he came to visit. We've decided that it might be a wise idea to start you on a low dosage of a mild anti-psychotic."
"What? No! I'm not crazy! I'm not!" Sam exclaimed, wrapping his arms around himself and staring at Chaudhery with wide, scared eyes. He didn't want to be drugged. He wasn't insane. He didn't want to have to be forced to take something that was for people that were insane.
"You don't have much choice in the matter, Sam. Your father has given his consent to try this course of medication and that should I feel it is needed, to increase your dosage. I'll start you on the lowest dose tomorrow morning with your breakfast," Chaudhery said, writing down on the notebook on his lap. Sam felt a sob rise in his throat and desperately tried to keep it down.
"Please don't. I'll get better, I promise. I won't mention Lo again. I'll be quiet and I promise not to make a fuss anymore. Please don't make me take them," Sam pleaded, eyes stinging as he blinked back tears.
"I'm afraid I can't agree to that, Sam. I'll inform Nurse Amanda of the correct dosage that we're going to start you on. I think that we'll end our session for today now," Chaudhery told him and Sam just stared at him with wide eyes. "Sam, we're just trying to help you."
"I don't want your help though. I'm fine! Why won't you listen to me? Why won't you believe me! Just… just believe me! Please!" Sam pleaded, standing up but not feeling he was making much of a difference given Chaudhery stood as well. He stood still when Chaudhery stepped up to him a clapped a hand on his shoulder.
"You'll be fine, Sam, you just have to accept that we're doing this for your own good. Come on, I'll walk you to the rec room. Maybe try and talk to some people this time?" Chaudhery asked him, not waiting for an answer as he led Sam out of the office and towards the rec room. Sam just nodded mutely, feeling numb to everything.
He was going to be drugged.
November 11th, 1997
Given that he'd been there for over a week, it actually came as a small surprise to Sam that he hadn't felt a need to hoard any of the salt he found in the cafeteria. Now he realised he'd been a little lapse in that judgement and possibly somewhat mislead about the true nature of the hospital he was in.
It was as he was sitting on the floor of his room, flicking through a book Amanda had gotten him for the day, that he happened to glance up in time to see a reaper pause at the door to his room before nodding his head silently in greeting to Sam and then walking back down the corridor.
A reaper.
Which meant death.
And Sam generally felt that with death, fifty percent of the time in places like this, you got spirits. Sam did not want to become the target of some spirit that realised he could speak to them, understand them and, more importantly, be an outlet for their anger.
Of course, he should have possibly thought about how to go about getting salt before letting his panic take over and running out of his room, straight into the bulky male nurse that had held him down when he had had to be sedated. Who, apparently, was called Iain.
"Whoa, kid! What's the rush?" Iain exclaimed, gently gripping Sam's shoulders when he collided with him, to prevent him from falling to the ground.
"Um… I… I just needed something from…" Sam trailed off, not too sure how to go about asking for salt without coming across even more insane that he already was doing.
"What? What do you need? You alright, Sam?" Sam shrugged and sighed. There really wasn't anyway Sam could think of to get salt from the man in front of him, and maybe part of him didn't trust the man not to sedate him for the hell of it. Okay, so he pretty much knew that wouldn't happen, but still, the irrational part of his mind whispered it to him loud enough for it to take hold.
"Nothing. I just… I was hungry I guess. Um… when's dinner?" Sam asked, and he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised by the shocked look that got him. He was also, not only known as the boy with the imaginary friends and unnatural attachment to a hoodie, but also the kid who didn't eat all that much. And was possibly a little too suspicious for his own good.
"It's not that far off, Sam. You actually gonna eat something for us today? You know that's gonna make us all really happy to see! We're getting a little worried about you, Kid. You've lost too much weight already and you've only been here for nine days."
"Hmm. Maybe," Sam mumbled with a shrug. He wasn't too sure he was all that hungry actually, but now he'd kind of cornered himself into having to eat something. He really needed to spend some more time to work on excuses. It wasn't like he had anything else to do in here. He sometimes wondered if they'd up his medication if he asked them to let him learn something. Anything. He wasn't fussed.
"Well, that's definitely a good sign! So, you going to go back to your room, or do you want to go be sociable?"
"My room."
"Yeah, thought so," Iain said with what Sam thought was possibly a tiny sigh. Sam just spun on his heels and made his way back to his room, not being able to help the shudder that went down his spine when he heard a call over the tannoy for all senior staff members to go to the sixth floor.
Code Blue.
"Sam, don't go wandering. Someone will come tell you when it's time for dinner, okay?" Iain asked him as they stopped just on the threshold of Sam's room.
"Okay," Sam mumbled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. A hoodie that Dean had left for him after their visit. It may not smell like Lo, but it smelled of Dean and Sam was happy with that. His previous hoodie hadn't smelt right since they'd taken it from him and washed it.
It was a tense hour and a half later that Sam was finally able to leave the relative safety of his room and go to the cafeteria to eat. After forcing what he felt was a substantial amount of food down, he glanced around him cautiously before he snatched the salt shaker from the table and shoved it in his pocket. Calmly, he then picked up his tray and walked over to deposit it, getting a soft smile from Amanda at the amount he'd eaten.
Getting back to his room, and Sam would fully admit that he had no idea how he was going to salt his doorway without anyone noticing every time they came to check in on him. Knowing he had a couple of minutes at least before anyone came to check up on him, Sam dragged his chair to the doorway and stood on it. Taking the salt shaker out of his pocket, he unscrewed the top and then painstakingly laid down a line of salt along the top of the door frame and just prayed that would work.
He had just gotten the chair back in it's normal place by the window when Joe passed by his doorway and smiled at him before carrying on by his room. Breathing a small sigh of relief, Sam used the rest of the salt and made a shaky line across his window sill then finally shoved the empty shaker in his pocket and went to sit back on his bed and read. He just hoped it would be enough.
November 18th,1997
A noise at his doorway made Sam look up, a decision he almost immediately regretted when he saw the source of the disturbance. Standing in his doorway was a young male teen, who didn't look all that much older than Sam, looking at him with narrowed, suspicious eyes. Sam had made a conscious effort to ignore the rest of the patients during his short time there, so openly acknowledging someone was just going to encourage them to talk to him.
"You can see me?" Sam just stared at the boy, not too sure how to answer him. He was beginning to get used to being asked random, odd questions from the people here, but he'd never actually come across someone that thought they were invisible.
"Erm… yes?" Sam hesitantly stated, though he wasn't actually too sure if he'd stated it or asked it. That didn't seem to make much difference to the other boy though, as he smirked and took a step forward, only to hiss and curse when he seemingly walked into an invisible barrier. Sam mentally cursed himself for being stupid, not that he'd actually expected to run into a spirit here, and quickly backed further on his bed and away from the now angry spirit.
"Let me in!" The spirit hissed at him, and Sam shook his head frantically. Letting the boy into his room was the last thing Sam was thinking of doing. Sam shook off his own shock to look more closely at the boy, trying to see if he'd possibly missed something that would have clued him in that the boy wasn't actually alive.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Sam answered shakily when it looked like the spirit was getting angrier at Sam's continued silence, and the boy screamed angrily at him and slammed his fists against the invisible barrier. It was a that point that Sam noticed rope burns around the boys wrists, and found his eyes quickly going to look around the boy's neck. Sam wasn't entirely too surprised to see more rope marks around his neck as well, and Sam shuddered.
Seeing what had caught Sam's attention, the spirit boy smirked and stopped angrily screaming and trying to get into the room, instead he just pinned Sam with a knowing look. "They did it, you know. They did this to me! I've been wandering these halls for years waiting for someone to talk to, knowing that I would eventually find someone one day. And now I've found you. You can be the one to tell everyone what happened to me!"
"No," Sam whispered, shaking his head a little more forcefully and pressing back into the wall. He didn't want to know what had happened to the boy, what they had done to him. He didn't want to know what might happen to himself should he stay there for too long.
"Why not! You're the only one that can hear me! You're the only chance I've got! Why are you being so selfish?" The boy demanded and Sam flinched back, even though he knew he was relatively safe.
"I can't."
"Yes, you ca-" The spirit-boy was interrupted that second by one of the staff nurses passing Sam's room, Sam wasn't too sure on her name, but he thought he'd heard Amanda call her Casey or something to that affect. Sam felt he should learn her name just out of gratitude at that moment however.
"Sam? You alright? I thought I heard someone talking in here. Everything okay?" The nurse asked him, and Sam stared at her with wide eyes, unable to stop himself from glancing quickly to where the spirit had been but was no longer there. A wave of relief washed over him and Sam gave the nurse a small, shaky smile and nodded.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine. I was just… I was just thinking out loud. Um… something I read," Sam told her with a feeble wave towards the book he certainly hadn't been reading - not just because Sam thought it was a load of rubbish.
"Well, if you're alright then, I'll just leave you to your book. You know where to find us if you need us, okay?" The nurse asked him with a wide smile, though Sam couldn't help but think she sounded unsure and suspicious of Sam's answer. Not that Sam blamed her if she was.
Sam watched her walk away from his room after he nodded his head in answer to her question, and then quickly turned his attention in the direction opposite to where the nurse had left when he saw something move. He barely managed to suppress the whimper that wanted to escape upon seeing an old, frail looking man in an old fashioned style black suit just staring at him.
The only reason he actually thought he was able to hold it back, was the fact that he was well aware of who the newcomer was, though it didn't really lend him much comfort.
"You shouldn't be here," the being - something Sam recognised off the bat as being a reaper - told him and Sam just dumbly nodded his head in agreement. He really shouldn't. Shame only people he could see were actually the ones that saw that and agreed with it. It wasn't exactly something to help his cause with.
"I have no choice in the matter," Sam whispered, looking down at the blanket on his bed instead of having to look at the reaper. Seeing them and talking to them were completely different things. Though both gave him an unwavering sense of discomfort. Sam found himself having to look up, however, when his only answer was a soft sigh.
He caught a glimpse of a sympathetic look given to him from the reaper - an expression that looked strangely out of place on the man's face - before the reaper then shook his head and faded back into the shadows. Sam gaped at the spot for a few seconds, before he felt a shiver run down his spine and pulled his hoodie around him tightly and pulled his legs up to his chest. He spent the rest of the evening pressed against the wall in that position until he fell asleep like that. One of the night staff had to move him so he would be lying down properly once they felt he was fast asleep. It wasn't a very peaceful sleep for Sam that night.
November 19th, 1997
Amanda paused outside the room of Samuel Campbell and frowned when she heard talking. Glancing down the hallway to the nurses station, she motioned that she was fine to Cassandra, the nurse on with her that night, then she turned back to the door to Sam's room.
Unlocking it quietly and the opening the door a jar, Amanda bit on her lip when she heard the whimpers and cries coming from the young teen on the bed in the room.
"No! Lo! Come back to me! Please! Don't leave me alone! No! Please, Lo!" Sam cried out, thrashing about in his bed so much that Amanda began to worry for him. "Lo!"
Biting down on her lip, Amanda took a step back from the room and closed the door once more, before she quickly hurried back to the nurses office. Cassandra looked up at her in shock when she all but crashed into the desk.
"Mand?"
"I think we might need to do something in room 18," Amanda told her in a rush even as she reached out to pick up the phone and dialled the number for the on-call doctor.
"That's the newest resident, right? Campbell?" Amanda nodded as she listened to the ring tone, waiting for Dr Lang to answer.
"Hi, Dr Lang, this is Nurse Jennings from Floor Four. We have a patient down here that might need something to calm him at night. Is it possible for you to come down and see what you think?" Amanda asked as soon as the doctor answered the phone.
"Of course, Nurse Jennings. I'll be right down. Try to see if you can keep him calm, but don't put yourself at risk if you think it might be that bad," Dr Lang told her and Amanda agreed before hanging up and looking at Cassandra.
"It that bad?"
"He'd calling out for Lo," Amanda told her. Cassandra went to answer before they were interrupted by a loud shout coming from Room 18. Glancing at Cassandra, Amanda quickly spun round to run to Sam's room, knowing that Cassandra wasn't far behind her. She froze momentarily before she flung the door open to Sam's room and ran forward to try and stop him from hurting himself in his thrashing, Cassandra moving to help her seconds later.
"Come back! Don't-don't leave me! Please!" Amanda hushed and tried to sooth Sam's screams and shouts, glancing at Cassandra who looked as distressed as Amanda felt. She hoped Dr Lang arrived soon. "Don't leave me! They're coming! I can feel them! They're coming!"
Amanda frowned even as she tried to hold Sam's arms down in a way that wouldn't cause him any harm, and wondered just who was coming for him. And what the child had gone through to cause him to feel such fear.
"I heard the shouting from the stairs, good thing I thought to bring something stronger, right? I don't think restraints would be a good idea for tonight, but we may have to consider it if it gets any worse than this." Amanda looked up as Dr Lang entered the room, and breathed a small sigh of relief at her words. Though she didn't think she would ever get comfortable with restraining their young patients at night.
"This is the first time I've noticed it this bad, but I'm not a regular on nights. Cass, have you ever noticed anything like this?" Amanda asked Cassandra once Dr Lang had medicated Sam and he had slowly started to calm down. Giving a final whimper before falling asleep.
"No, I've never noticed anything like this from this room. I wonder what caused this," Cassandra mused, looking down at Sam, who was now the perfect image of peace. Even if it was a lie.
"Three patients died in the last week on the top floor. Sam seems to be more sensitive to these kind of things. I think he knows the emergency codes as well," Amanda told them musingly. Dr Lang looked at her with a raised eyebrow and then back at Sam.
"Really? Hmm, have you mentioned it to his doctor? Perhaps that should be the next thing they talk about in their sessions," Dr Lang said, and Amanda nodded her head, running a hand through Sam's hair softly before standing up and walking out the room with the two other women.
"I can't help but wonder what it is that happened to him that made him so scared," Cass quietly mentioned as the three made their way back to the nurses station. Amanda shrugged, not saying anything even though she wondered the same. She also wondered if perhaps it wouldn't be kinder to let the boy keep his delusions of his best friend, as they clearly were the thing to keep him calm and feeling safe.
November 20th, 1997
Dean frowned and cursed under his breath when his dad pulled the truck he was driving to the side of the road. Wondering what the hell was wrong, Dean pulled sharply to a stop behind the truck and then climbed out, walking to the truck. He felt a small niggle of panic when he saw that he was on the phone and just knew it would be about Sam.
"-Said there was a problem with Sam?" Dean bit down on his lip and moved to lean against the door so he could listen in on the conversation, and try to work out what was wrong with his little brother.
He looked in the mirror to see if he could work out just how bad it was from his father's facial expressions and then wished he hadn't when John frowned and showed some real concern.
"And you had to sedate him?" Dean jerked and moved to stand so that his dad could see him, getting a small shake of the head from the man. "How did he seem in the morning?"
"Dad?" John shook his head to Dean once more, making a hushing motion which just Dean even more concerned for Sammy.
"Right, well we're currently too far away to be there for him now. We were told to try and make visits only once a month or so to get him used to-" John stopped, clearly to listen to whatever was being said, whilst Dean was making mental notes on how to get back to Sam as soon as possible. He wanted to curse when he realised that would be at least a week given they were currently on a hunt.
"Right, well carry on with what you've been doing then. I… If you think that is needed, then I suppose that's what you have to do. Yes, of course. Yes. Please do, yes. Thanks for letting me know. Bye," John sighed as he closed his phone and then looked over at Dean, who was about to read him the riot act.
"So? Sammy's alright, right? What's happened? What have they done to him? You know, I completely disagreed with your decision to drug him, right? He's not insane! I don't even know why he's in there in the first place!"
"Dean, please." Dean scowled at his father, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for John to tell him what the phone call was about. After a few minutes of getting nothing, Dean got a little impatient.
"Well? What's happened?"
"Apparently Sam had a bad nightmare last night. So bad that they had to sedate him in the end. He's apparently alright now, just a little quiet. Though they said that wasn't anything new," John told him, and Dean frowned, nibbling on his lip.
"Really? Sammy? He's being quiet and that's normal?"
"He never spoke much before he went in, so it's not all that unusual for him to be quiet. They said he ate a little at breakfast, but chose to go back to his room to read."
"Maybe he was quiet to you, but he never shut up when he would be speaking to Lo or begging me to take him to the library. You think we're allowed to take him books to read? I doubt they're giving him books he normally reads."
"What does he normally read? I don't know. Do you?" John asked him, and Dean only just managed to stop himself from gaping before he shook his head.
"Dad, where do you think all that knowledge about whatever monster of the week we were hunting came from? Sammy did most of the research. That's what he reads. He reads what Lo suggests for him. Apparently," Dean added hastily when John looked at him suspiciously.
"Apparently? Hmm. Well, if you think you can pick out books he'd like, I don't see any problem leaving them with his doc and getting the man to give them to Sam every so often," John murmured with a shrug. Dean sighed and added a list of books to his mental list of things to do for Sam.
"So we're going to visit him after we've finished this hunt?"
"I don't know, Dean. We'll try, but if there's another hunt nearby, you know we can't ignore it."
"What, the hunt is more important than your son? Nice, Dad," Dean muttered, scowling at his father before turning on his heel and walking back to his car.
"Dean! Stop! You know Sam's important to me! But we can't let these things get away and kill other people! We have a job, Dean!" John shouted after him, and Dean just shook his head, chuckling dryly.
"Sure, Dad. Let's just get to the motel," Dean said with a tired, dismissive wave over his shoulder before climbing back into his car. "No wonder Sammy chose to turn to whoever the hell Lo is"
November 21st, 1997
"Sam! Nice to see you looking a little better today! Did you sleep better last night with the tablets we gave you?" Sam scowled at the man in front of him and then shrugged his shoulders. He refused to admit that it had indeed helped him, though it left him a little drowsy that morning. And made it feel like something had crawled into his mouth and died during the night.
He wasn't going to admit that he considered that actually had happened, either. It wouldn't have surprised him.
"So how are you feeling today? Better than yesterday I hope!" Chaudhery carried on, oblivious to Sam's wandering thoughts about what animal would be small enough to crawl into your mouth and die there. And if he'd choke on the gerbil before or after it died. Sam jerked when he realised that the annoying man was actually waiting for an answer.
"M'fine," Sam mumbled, shrugging and trying to burrow into his hoodie like a turtle. Sam frowned to himself at his thoughts and then began to wonder just what the new medication was doing to his mind. If he was any judge, he would swear it was actually making him more insane than sane.
"Well, that's certainly nice to hear," Chaudhery told him with a soft smile. Sam just twitched a little but stayed silent. "So, I'd like to talk to you about something the nurse brought to my attention. She thinks it may be a reason for your nightmare."
Sam looked up and narrowed his eyes. He was fairly certain the nurse hadn't mentioned anything about reapers and seeing dead people, so the likelihood of them actually knowing what had caused the nightmare was fairly slim.
"She told me that you seemed to know the emergency code calls in this hospital. That you knew of a couple of unfortunate events, is that true?"
"You mean the three deaths? Yeah, I knew about them," Sam told him with a sigh, curling his hands up and hiding them in his sleeves.
"And you knew the codes then?"
"If you want," Sam mumbled with a nonchalant shrug. Chaudhery frowned at him, making Sam shift uncomfortably.
"That would suggest you don't know the codes. Would you like to share how you knew of the deaths then?" Sam didn't think 'not particularly' was the answer Chaudhery was looking for. Though at this point Sam was hoping to look more obstinate than crazy. He supposed though, that that ship had sailed three weeks ago.
Mentally shrugging, Sam wondered what the worst that could happen was, and decided to just go with the truth for once. It wasn't like they would actually start believing him.
"I saw the reapers." Sam barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes when Chaudhery moved the recorder closer to Sam. Really, the man needed to start reading up on some supernatural lore or something. Sam was getting fed up of being the insane go to boy.
Not that he was asking for advice on how to hunt them down. Which was good, given not even Lo would tell him the answer to that one. Not that Sam wanted to know, mind. Sam had nothing against the reapers as long as they left him alone. They creeped him out a little. But Sam noticed they would go out of their way almost to give Sam advanced warning when someone was going to die. There was no other need for them to pass by him on their way to their… targets?
Victims? Were they victims? Or at least, were they really victims of the reapers? Surely they were just doing their jobs.
"Sam?" Sam blinked when he realised Chaudhery had been speaking to him and he hadn't heard a word the man had said.
"Sorry, what?"
"I wondered what these 'reapers' did," Chaudhery said to him and Sam just frowned in confusion. How on earth did someone not know what a reaper did. Most religions and cultures had reapers of some kind. Plus there was also that song Dean listened to.
"They take the souls of those that have passed," Sam informed the clearly dense man. Maybe he had only focused on his studies and hadn't read anything or watched anything other than medical texts. Could explain a little.
"And you can see these things can you?" Chaudhery asked him, not even able to withhold his disbelief on this. Not that Sam blamed him. Given the route of their conversations, Sam could now see and speak to gods, faeries and reapers. Sam didn't want to mention the brownies, sprites, restless souls and other such creatures most couldn't see - or believe in. And by most, Sam meant anyone that wasn't one of the afore mentioned beings.
"Yes."
"Can others?" Well, Sam should have expected the question really, he supposed. Still, did he answer truthfully or not? Sam wasn't too sure which would help him in the long run.
"No, not everyone. The sensitive can," Sam admitted, though he was stretching the truth a little there. The psychically sensitive still couldn't see everything Sam could. Though he was fairly certain they could possibly see reapers if they tried. Maybe.
Fairly certain.
"The sensitive? You mean, psychics and people like that?" If Chaudhery meant crazy, then Sam supposed he could have just said that instead of loosely implying it.
"Yeah," Sam said with a shrug. He didn't really want to go into this anymore than they already had. Even that was a little too much for Sam's comfort. Not that he was one to think of jinxing and such, but he couldn't help but think if they kept talking about them, then one would appear and someone else would die. Really, dead insane people had less to talk about than the living ones.
"And you believe you're one of these people?" Sam wondered if it was professional to sound so disbelieving of a patient. Though he supposed, given they'd point blank told him Lo was a figment of his imagination, why would they start indulging him now?
"No." Well he didn't. Lo explained why he was so weird. He could also see shit that psychics couldn't. He was 'special', which sucked and also made him sound like he had learning disabilities or something.
Which he didn't. He had freaky demonic blood. Completely different thing. Though he did wonder if it was like caffeine and apparently stunted your growth. Sam was never going to get as tall as Dean, he just knew it.
"So how can you see them?" That was something Sam had no intention of ever answering for fear it got back to his father. Admitting his son was a little on the mentally unbalanced side was one thing, being told his son was a half-demon experiment spawn thing was an entirely different matter. Plus, that wasn't the whole reason. Sharing a bed (and everything else) with a god for ten years would also have an effect on someone.
It made them more sensitive. Awesome.
"I just can. Can we put them in the same category as Lo, in which I believe he exists and you seemingly up the dosage of whatever you're pumping into my system?" Sam snapped, and instantly regretted it when Chaudhery sighed like Sam was the greatest disappointment since Thundercats got taken off the air.
"Do you really think that's all these sessions are about?"
"You mean they're not to see just how insane I am? Does that mean I can go home now? Because I'd really rather not stay here if we're only here to chat."
"Sam…" Chaudhery sighed and made a short note on his ever present notepad, before looking back up at Sam. "I think we should call this session to an end, don't you? Think about what we're talked about and what you told me, okay? Oh, and Sam?"
Sam froze as he was rising from his seat and cautiously straightened up to turn and look at Chaudhery in question.
"Your brother rang me earlier this morning to inform me that he wished to bring you some books when he next comes to visit. I told him that would be fine. So you will have that to look forward to."
"Did he say when he'd be coming?" Sam asked quietly, nibbling on his lip and losing all of his previous snarky attitude upon hearing about Dean.
"He said he wasn't too sure but he hoped it would be near the end of the month or the beginning of next." Sam looked at Chaudhery for a brief moment and then nodded his head. He quickly spun round at that, seeing it as a dismissal and near ran out of the room and to his own, salt protected room.