Chapter Ten

Dean pulled himself slowly from sleep, rolling onto his back and stretching his arms and legs. He felt very rested and at peace. Sure, his entire life had been a lie and his brother had never existed, but he now had a real life. The monsters and demons and Lucifer and the apocalypse and Dean going to hell and Sam coming back from hell without a soul and everything had never happened. It was all fake. Dean didn't have this fate-this destiny-hanging over his head. The only thing he had to worry about now was getting better.

Dean burrowed further under the covers, pulling the sheet, blanket and comforter closer to his head.

Comforter? Dean thought.

Dean's eyes snapped open.

There was no white ceiling, no white walls, no white floors. He was lying on a bed in a motel room. Dean pulled himself up onto his elbows, looking around.

What the…

Dean looked around, trying to figure out what was going on.

I went to sleep in the mental hospital, right?

There were no bars on the windows and a door handle on the motel room door. Dean looked around on the floor. On the floor by the table lay three duffle bags. There was also a brown leather jacket—a very familiar leather jacket.

Dad? Dean wondered, looking around for him.

"Dean?"

Dean looked up towards the small kitchen connected to the motel room. Bobby stood in the doorway, watching him.

"Bobby?" asked Dean.

"Hey," said Bobby. "Glad you're awake."

Dean looked down at the duffle bags and up at Bobby. He rolled his eyes. "Dammit, Bobby. Just when I get the idea of escaping out of my head, you have to go and break me out?"

Bobby frowned. "What?"

"Do you have any idea what this does to me?" said Dean, pulling up to a sitting position and leaning against the headboard. "They come to my room to find me gone, they're gonna think I escaped. How did you think this was gonna help?"

Bobby walked over towards the bed, sitting at the table next to it. "Dean, I don't know what you think is going on, but you're—"

"Did you really think this was a good idea?" said Dean. "I was getting better. They were going to release me on their own. Now…now they're gonna hunt me down and put me back in the institution, thinking I lied to them about coming to my senses. You have any idea what they're gonna do to me because of this? Electro-shock, lobotomy…who knows what else?"

Bobby's eyes widened. "Dean—"

"Come on," said Dean, pulling the covers back and putting his feet on the floor. "We gotta get back to the hospital and explain what happened." He climbed to his feet.

Bobby got up and placed his hands on Dean's shoulders, gently forcing him back down onto the bed. "Dean, listen to me for a second." Bobby sat back down in the chair at the table. "Whatever you think is going on, I promise you, it's not—"

The bathroom door opened, and Dean looked over to see someone emerging from it. Dean's eyes widened as he froze.

"No…" said Dean, backing up on the bed until his back hit the headboard. "No, not again…No, this can't be happening…"

"Dean?" asked Sam from the doorway, beginning to head towards him.

"No, it's not real," said Dean, a little more loudly. Sam froze, staring at him in confusion. "I was getting better. This can't be happening…"

"Dean, what is it?" asked Sam.

Dean looked up at Sam, and then quickly looked away from him. "I'm hallucinating again, that's what. I thought I was better. This can't be happening…"

"Dean, you're not hallucinating," said Sam.

Dean looked at him. "Then how do you explain you?"

Sam frowned. "What?"

Dean looked away from him, refusing to look at the mirage. "I'm probably lying in my room, talking to myself. That's great." He looked around the room. "Sorry, guys. I didn't mean to regress. I don't know how this happened. Somebody get the meds."

Sam and Bobby exchanged glances.

"Dean, you're not in a mental hospital," said Bobby.

Sam looked at him. "A mental hospital?"

Bobby looked at him. "His words, not mine."

Sam looked at Dean. "That must've been where he was." He approached Dean, stopping next to the bed. "Dean, you were never in a mental hospital."

"Says the hallucination," said Dean, glaring at Sam. "Trust me, you can't fool me this time. I already have proof." He leaned toward Sam. "You never existed."

Sam's eyes widened. "That's what you saw? That I never existed?"

Dean looked away from him. "I'm not talking to you. You're not real."

Bobby leaned forward. "Then talk to me."

"You're not real either," said Dean. "Neither of you are. I am sitting in my room." He put his hands to his head, staring at the bedspread. "I'm in my room…I'm in my room."

Bobby reached forward, grabbing Dean's hands. "Dean—" Dean looked up at him. "Dean, you're not in your room. You're here."

Dean looked at Bobby's grip on his wrists. It felt so solid, so real…

Dean wrenched his hands out of Bobby's grip. "No, it's not real."

"Dean, of course it's real," said Bobby. "You have to understand. You've—"

"It's not real," said Dean, staring at the bed. "It's not real."

"Dean!" said Bobby. Dean looked up at him. "You've been catatonic for the past five days."

Dean frowned at him.

"Sam couldn't wake you up, so he called me," said Bobby. "We thought it was Dream Root at first, but then you started convulsing. Dream Root never shows symptoms until the person dies. We found out that it was a djinn. A djinn got to you, and—"

"It's not true," said Dean.

Sam leaned forward. "Tell us what is true, Dean." Bobby looked at him. "Tell us what you think is true."

"I don't think," said Dean. "I know."

"Then tell us what you know, Dean," said Sam.

"Look, you're my hallucination, so you already know," said Dean.

"Humor us," said Bobby. Dean looked at him. "What harm could it do?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "My entire life has been a lie. Mom never died from a demon fire. It was a regular house fire. I felt bad for not saving her, so I imagined that a demon killed her so I could kill it. I, apparently, also felt sorry for myself, so I invented a brother to protect. I imagined my whole life that I was a hunter…until I was twenty-six. I killed three girls, thinking they were witches. They locked me in a psychiatric hospital. I took the faces of the nurses, orderlies, patients and doctors and turned them into the monsters, demons, ghosts, civilians, hunters and angels on my cases.

"I woke up there two weeks ago. I thought I was being held there by the demons and ghosts that me and Sam had killed. I thought Cas had been brainwashed and that Sam, not having a soul, had worked with Crowley to put me there. But…it wasn't true. I was just crazy."

"Dean," said Bobby. "Why would you think Cas had been brainwashed?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "What does it matter? It wasn't true."

"Tell us," said Bobby.

"The morning after I woke up, Cas came into the room," said Dean. "He was actually my doctor, Jimmy Novak. I thought he had been brainwashed. But…turns out, I had taken him and turned him into Castiel in my mind."

"Who else was there?" asked Sam.

"Casey—that demon from that boarded up factory town that you shot," said Dean. "Gordon, Yellow-Eyes, Constance—that woman in white, Ruby, Lillith…They were all nurses and orderlies. Zachariah and Anna and Gabriel; all the angels…they were the doctors. Andrea Barr and Hope and Ed Zedmore; everyone we saved or lost on a hunt…they were the patients. And Ash, Ellen, Jo, Rufus; all the hunters we knew…they were in my group session."

"The hunters were patients, too?" asked Bobby.

"Yeah…" said Dean. "Rufus had serious anger issues, Ash kept telling people they stank—not sure what kind of mental disorder that was, Ellen had a royalty complex, Jo had multiple personalities, Martin was extremely OCD, Reggie hallucinated bunnies were after him, Tim thought aliens were after him, Travis had a germ phobia, and Steve was schizophrenic." Dean chuckled. "Oddly enough, he imagined he had a younger brother, too."

Sam nodded. "Huh." He sat down on the bed. "How stupid are you, Dean?"

Dean frowned at him. "Excuse me?"

Bobby glared at Sam. "Sam, ease up."

"Dean, that is the exact plot of K-PAX," Sam told him.

Dean frowned. "It is?"

"Yeah," said Sam with a smile. "You were the one who forced me to watch that movie in the first place, remember? Martin being OCD, Travis with a germ phobia, Ash telling people they stink, Ellen with a royalty complex, Jo with multiple personalities, even Tim thinking aliens were after him…The main character of that movie thought he was an alien. And then Steve just happens to be schizo just like you, and just happens to hallucinate a younger brother like you?"

Dean frowned at him.

"And how everything fit perfectly into place?" Sam went on. "The patients were civilians and hunters, the doctors were angels, the nurses and orderlies were monsters…doesn't that fit a little too perfectly? Wasn't there any moment where you thought something was weird?"

In fact, Dean had thought it was too big of a coincidence at one point.

Dean shook his head. "No, no. I just got on board the crazy train. You are not convincing me I was right the whole time."

"Dean, think about it," said Sam. "Wasn't that whole scenario too perfectly put together? How everything seemed to fit and have a place to make you think you're insane."

"Sam, come on…" said Dean.

"That is the most complex delusion I have ever heard of," said Sam. "They kept throwing loophole after loophole at you to convince you."

"Yeah, but, it was true," said Dean.

"Look, Dean," said Sam. Dean looked at him. "Does anything seem different about that place now that you're out of it?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam, quit it." He frowned, shaking his head. "Why am I even talking to you? You're a hallucination. I know Bobby is real—in the real world—but Sam is especially made up."

"Dean, think about it," said Bobby. "It was your worst nightmare, right?"

Dean shrugged. "Pretty close."

"Remember those djinns a couple months ago?" said Sam. "They threw your worst nightmares at you?"

"Yeah, but waking up in an asylum wasn't really one of my 'worst nightmares,' really," said Dean. "The thought crossed my mind, but djinns have symptoms. You notice things from reality. There was nothing. Which means I'm still sitting in my room, talking to myself."

"You weren't attacked by an ordinary djinn," said Sam. "It was the Alpha Djinn."

"So what?" said Dean. "A djinn needs to keep juicing you to keep the illusion going."

"Not the Alpha," said Sam. "Their venom is permanent. And it doesn't show any symptoms. That's why we thought it was Dream Root. But then your body convulsed. I mean, it was the worst seizure I'd ever seen. It was like electricity was running through your whole body."

Dean froze, staring at him. "Electro-shock."

Sam frowned. "What?"

"They did electro-shock after the first week," said Dean.

"And you said you were there for two weeks?" asked Sam. Dean nodded. Sam looked at Bobby and back at Dean. "That was about halfway through your stay. You had that seizure the third day…halfway through your coma. That's how Bobby and I figured out it was a djinn. We called Samuel for the antidote, and he got here last night."

Dean sat up straighter. "You called Samuel? What, are you crazy?"

Sam smiled. "Good to see you believe us now."

Dean shook his head. "I don't. I don't. It's just…" He frowned, unsure what to believe. He couldn't believe he was in this same position…again…forced to choose which life to believe.

Sam grabbed hold of Dean's shoulder with one hand. "Dean, it's us…really."

Dean glanced down at Sam's hand on his shoulder. It felt…solid…more solid than he remembered. Dean reached forward, grasping Sam's shoulder with his hand. The contact felt more real than it had before Dean knew Sam wasn't real. It felt more real than any contact in the other world had been.

Dean looked up at Sam. "Sammy?"

Sam smiled a little. "Finally."

Dean's body sagged in relief. "Thank God I didn't kill innocent people."

Dean looked around, finally recognizing the place. They'd been staying there in the last hunt. Dean looked down at Sam's torso to see bandages peeking out from under his shirt.

Where I stitched him up, Dean thought.

There were bloody rags still in the trashcan by the table from the stitch-up job. Dean looked down at his clothes, recognizing them as the clothes he fell asleep in that night after his shower.

Dean's eyes widened. Oh, God…a shower…

"Oh, man," muttered Dean. "Have I really been asleep for five days?"

"Yep," said Sam.

"Okay, I really need a shower," said Dean, grabbing his duffle and heading for the bathroom.

*************************************************SPN****************************************************

Dean sat down on the bed after Bobby left, packing up his bag. Sam sat on the opposite bed, packing his own bag.

"Hey, Dean," said Sam.

Dean looked up at him. "Yeah?"

"I'm really glad you're awake," said Sam, trying-and failing-to look sympathetic. "I was worried about you."

Dean chuckled a little. "No, you weren't."

Sam laughed a little, looking down at his bag.

"But thanks for saying it," said Dean.

Sam looked up at him and nodded. "So…next hunt?"

Dean grabbed his bag, climbing to his feet and heading out to the Impala. "Please."

Dean smiled as he peeled out of the parking lot with Sam, AC/DC blaring.

THE END