He was burning. Screaming. Crying.
There was nothing but the fire. Nothing but the pain.
Suddenly, it was gone and Sam realized Dean was yelling at him and shaking him.
"Dean?"
The shaking stopped, but Sam could feel that Dean's hands were shaking, showing he was scared. Or he had been.
"Sam? God, Sammy. Are you okay?"
"I-I...I...I don't-...," Sam babbled. He had no idea.
"I s-saw.."
"You saw? Sam? What did you see?"
"Fire," Sam squeaked.
"Fire? What do you mean?"
"H-Hell's fire," Sam whispered.
Silence. "You saw Hell?"
Sam nodded.
"Okay, Sam, we're going down to Bobby's."
Sam swallowed and nodded to show he heard and agreed.
Dean shut Sam's door and Sam heard Dean's footsteps crunch on the gravel and then his door open.
Sam heard the clink of keys and the the rumble of the engine.
As much as Sam hated being blind, he couldn't help but notice how all of his other senses were keener. Sharper.
The ride was long and tiring, but it was durable.
Sam was sealed up completely, an emotionless wall of iron.
Dean was almost at the end of his rope.
Bobby welcomed them in with open arms, letting the boys have everything at hi disposal.
Sam was content to sit up in his room that he had to share with Dean, and just sit there.
"He still up there?" Bobby asked.
Dean nodded.
"Cut 'im some slack, boy. He's been through hell so this ain't exactly scoring on the positive list."
"I know, Bobby, but he won't say a damn thing, he just sits there."
Bobby sighed and pursed his lips. "I know, but you know he'll bust up eventually. You just gotta be there when he does."
Dean nodded again.
"Listen, I gotta go on a few runs for some friends; owe 'em some favors."
"We'll be fine, Bobby."
"Sam?"
Sam raised his head.
"How you doin'?"
Sam shrugged nonchalantly. "M'fine."
"Sam," Dean began.
"Don't," Sam said.
Dean sat down at the edge of the bed. "Don't what?"
"Just don't."
Dean looked at him. "Why? You can't clam up forever."
Sam laughed bitterly. "I can try."
"Sammy, I get it. I do. I've been to Hell, I know what it's like."
Sam 'looked' at him.
"You say that. You always say that. But you don't, Dean. You don't at all. Dean, you couldn't possibly know what it was like."
Dean blinked twice. "No? Then explain it to me."
Sam's face went pale.
"Why can't you tell me?"
"I-It's not that I can't, it's just..."
"It's okay, Sammy," Dean said gently.
"You can tell me."
