Hey guys! Sorry I didn't get to post this last night. I got caught up in a big assignment I was working on and I just didn't have time! So here's the next chapter!

Thanks for all the reviews! :)

So, the chapter is short again. I have like a million major projects due this week, so I just don't have time to write much. But I'm hoping this will tide you over till I get time to write longer sections. :)

Thanks for your patience! :)

Dean barely took the time to close the car door as they reached Sam's dorm. He was sprinting for the stairs in seconds, mind chanting one name over and over.

Sam. Sam. Come on. Sam.

He was vaguely aware of his dad behind him.

Dean skidded to a halt outside Sam's door. Glancing at John, who nodded, Dean tested the door knob.

It was unlocked.

Dean drew his gun, hesitantly opening the door and moving inside.

Both father and son froze at the sight that met their eyes.

The witch was sitting on Sam's bed, Sam's head in her lap.

She was stroking his blood-matted hair, his eyes closed, his whole form limp and covered in blood.

The witch glanced up at them, a cruel smile spreading on her face.

Neither dared to move.

Dean tried not to focus on the blood that had pooled underneath his baby brother, staining his clothing and bed. His quick eyes found the source almost immediately, though. Deep gashes in his chest and back, still bleeding, though sluggishly.

"Sammy." Dean called softly.

Sam didn't even twitch, completely unresponsive to everything around him.

Oh gosh. He's barely breathing. He kinda looks...No! What the heck did she do to him?

The witch raised an eyebrow. "Nothing smart to say now, hmm? What should I do to the beloved youngest of your torn family? My sister suffered a very horrible death because of you two, how should I repay you? I don't think losing him to death is enough. Perhaps something more painful then?" she mused. "What if I take away his precious mind, the intelligence he treasures and relies on? The sanity that he isn't sure he truly has?"

"What are you talking about?" Dean growled, finally finding his voice.

"He is trapped in his own mind. Turned upside down, nothing in it's right place. Given long enough, there's no way he will maintain his sanity, if he even manages to escape. My sister is avenged, Winchesters."

She laughed long and hard, then snapped her fingers and was gone.

Dean didn't hesitate, despite his father's sharp one word warning, "Dean!"

He dropped to his knees beside his baby brother, quickly checking vital signs.

He knew he was panicking, his desperation and horror building in his chest till he couldn't breathe, but he also couldn't find it in him to care.

"Sam. Sammy. Answer me, kiddo! ANSWER ME!"

He grabbed Sam, pulling his limp sibling into his arms, ignoring the blood, ignoring everything but his unresponsive little brother.

"Sammy. Sammy, please. Wake up."