Hello my lovely readers! I am back, I'm so sorry for the long wait, my job just got so crazy. I am a health and safety specialist for Disney. I mainly focus on covid cases and contact people who are considered close contacts or have covid and I go over all the guidelines on when they can go back to work and how long they have to quarantine. And it's not just Disneyland park but all of the Disney company, and suddenly all at once it got so bad. Cases were coming in quick and I had no spare time whatsoever. I was working so late, and had no time to write, and if I did, it was all late in the evening. So I'm not sure how good this chapter is, but I wanted to post it anyway. (please excuse any typos or mistakes lol)

WARNING- some language, panic attack descriptions, normal spoilers.

Chapter Seven

Dean was hovering over Castiel, who was leaning over Sam, healing him. The angel had to do it in chunks, the amount of wounds Sam had obtained was too much for him to do in one go. Even now he could feel his newly obtained grace sliver away, leaving him lightheaded and close to feeling like a human again. He stopped once more, slightly out of breath,

"That's as much as I can do for now Dean, I will resume when I have my strength back," Dean averted his eye line from Sam to Cas for a slip second,

"Yeah, yeah ok, thanks Cas," he patted the angel on the back, and then his gaze went back to the sleeping Sam. The angel left the med room, human emotions surfaced and he felt a pang of sympathy for the oldest Winchester, sighing softly as he closed the door behind him.

Dean pulled up a chain and sat down next to Sam's bed. He could feel the cold steel of his gun press into his back, so he pulled it out, and placed it on the table beside the bed. Now as comfortable as he could be, he took a long and thoughtful look at Sam. They had about four hours left until it would hit the 48 hour mark. There was an IV line attached to him, and he looked better than when Dean first found him. There was more color to his cheeks and he looked less sickly. But there were still small cuts and bruises all over his body. The words Freak, where slowly fading each time Cas used his grace, but the outline was still there. The internal bleeding had been the first to go, being the biggest problem. But although Sam was no longer lost, Dean couldn't help but feel so angry. Angry at himself for letting Dr. Lloyd touch Sam in the first place. Angry that he wasn't around when it hit the 24 hour mark. Angry that Sam was suffering from his own fears and that some monster had hurt his baby brother. And that monster he couldn't kill or hurt back. It was all in Sam's mind, so that left Dean nothing to take his anger out on. But underneath all that anger, there was fear. A thousand "what if" scenarios running through his head. What if he hadn't made it in time, what if he hadn't seen the ghost touch Sam, what if he had slept longer? what if, what if, what if. As he dug himself a grave with these thoughts, he heard Sam moan quietly. Dean immediately scooted as close as he could to Sam, well as close as the chair would let him. Then he brushed back Sam's bangs, and he made a short squeaky sound and tried to push his hand off. Dean removed it, confused on the reaction,

"Sammy?" There was no reply, the only sign of Sam hearing Dean, was the slight movement of his eyebrows and eyes squeezing. Dean stood up, pushing the chair away and sat on the edge of Sam's bed, he then gently rested his hand on his shoulder, and whispered,

"Sammy? Come on bitch open your eyes," with no one else in the room he allowed some emotion to slip through, that sentence filled with love and fear. With his hand on Sam's shoulders he started to rub the shoulder blades, he then felt Sam relax and melt into the movement. Dean then remembered the time, a couple of weeks ago, he did the same thing, Sam was hunched over his laptop, research screwn about, time unknown to him. He hadn't moved in 12 hours, hell bent on finding something to stop the darkness. Dean had gone out for a drink and came back a little buzzed. Not so bad he couldn't walk, but he felt happy, and alcohol also seemed to chip away at his no chick flick rule. Because when he saw Sam rubbing his forehead, staving off a headache, dark shadows under his eyes, he decided that Sam needed a break, and he couldn't help the feeling inside of him that yearned to free Sam from the guilt he felt. Halfway through the memory he started to tell it to Sam.

—

"SAMMY!" Dean giggled when he saw Sam jump from the loud noise. "I'm home," he ended his loud entrance quietly and sort of stumbled over to Sam. Sam look at him, eyebrows raised and asked,

"Are you drunk?" Dean stopped over at the table with the bottle of gin, walked back over to Sam and whispered in his ear,

"No," then broke off laughing again. Sam scrunched up his nose at the smell of alcohol,

"Yeah sure your not," he stood up and took the bottle of gin away from him,

"I think that's enough for today," Dean protested, but then sat down in the chair next to Sam's, and started to go through his research. Sam gasped, ran over and pulled papers from his hands,

"Hey hey hey hey, Dean no, no." Dean slumped back into his chair,

"You're no fun," he whined. Sam frowned,

"Yeah well you're not a picnic to be with either, besides I have spent hours on this and I don't need your drunk ass messing it up." He sighed and sat back down, putting papers and books back in order. Dean watched, while also eyeing the bottle of gin, forgotten on the table.

He reached over and tried to grab it, but Sam slapped his hand away, eyes never leaving his book.

"I said no more alcohol,"

"Yeah but,"

"No".

"Just one-,"

"No"

"But,"

"No," Dean opened his mouth to protest more but Sam cut him off

"NO! No more alcohol Dean!" Dean leaned back, crossed his arms and stuck his tongue out. Sam looked at him and huffed a laugh. Then he reached his hand back and rubbed at his shoulders, wincing a bit. Dean watched him, his "Sammy is hurting" radar was beeping, sobering him just a tad,

"You go'd" Sam raised an eyebrow,

"Am I god? Last time I checked no" Dean rolled his eyes (making him dizzy) then tried again,

"No, are y'u good?" Sam fought off a smile when understanding hit him. He arched his back a bit,

"No, yeah, just got a stiff back that's all." Dean hummed, stood up and put his hands on Sam's shoulders. He tried to remove them, but Dean just gripped them harder,

"Dean stop-" but before he could resist any longer, Dean started massaging his neck. Sam hung his head down and softly sighed. Dean grinned and worked the muscles slowly working his way down to his shoulders, earning another sigh from Sam. Eventually he rubbed in between his shoulder blades, which made Sam squirm, Dean stopped,

"Did I hurt you?" Sam looked at him like he took away his laptop,

"No, it just felt really fucking good" Sam then motioned for Dean to continue, he grinned and complied,

"You are such a girl you know that right? Enjoying massages so much," he broke of giggling when Sam swatted at him,

"Hey! Do you want me to stop?" Sam groaned and admittedly said,

"No"

"Such a Girl"

"Jerk"

"Bitch"

—

Everything had seemed so simple, just that one peaceful moment felt like all the crap between them never happened. Dean had stopped rubbing Sam's shoulders when he heard Sam's breathing pick up, eyes squeeze tight, feeling him twitch just a bit,

"Sammy?" He whispered. The only reply he got was a slight whimper coming from Sam's mouth. If that didn't raise red flags he didn't know what would.

"Sammy?" Dean kind of growled his name, the way he always did when Sam was in some sort of danger he couldn't prevent. He was standing up over Sam now, intensely watching eyes and hands, scanning for any injury he could have missed. He started yelling for Castiel when Sam's back arched on the bed. Dean gripped onto his hands, trying to calm him down, but all he ended up doing was make Sam fight more.

The angel came running, after hearing the frantic calls and screams, Dean half yelled half growled at Cas to use his angel hoodoo on Sam. As the angel rested his hands above his head, Dean saw him concentrate harder than he normally does. When Cas opened his eyes there was confusion, Dean frowned,

"What?"

"There is nothing left for me to heal," Cas explained. Deans frown deepened, his hold on Sam only tightened,

"What? So you're telling me Sam freaking seizing on the bed isn't something that screams; oh I don't know, that there is something wrong with him?" The angel frowned at Dean's harsh tone. But before he could reply, Sam let out a scream of pure terror and sat up, eyes enlarged, and very much awake.

"Sammy? Oh thank god!" Dean exclaimed, his hold on Sam was gone from him bolting up into a sitting position. He went to reach for him but Sam's eyes widened and he scrambled off the bed and sort of hid himself behind Castiel.

"Sam?" Sam just shook his head,

"No.. no not again." Sam was practically shaking, eyes frantically moving. Dean looked up at Cas who was just as confused as him.

"Sammy? It's ok, it's just me, I'm not going to hurt you," he spoke in a soft, reassuring voice, that almost always worked on him, and as he said it he started to walk slowly over to Sam, hands in front of him, so Sam could see he meant no harm. But all Sam did was shake harder and grip onto the angel's arm, as if seeking protection.

"No..n-no, no! Stop p-please j-just stop!" Dean stopped. The small, scared shaky voice stabbed his heart over and over.

"Sammy, what's wrong? Is it Lucifer" he whispered the last part, and his own voice had a slight quiver to it, but he pushed his own fear down. Sam merely shook his head, looking confused but the petrified look never ceased.

"Wha-what? N-no" Dean could have cried from relief. So that meant the bastard wasn't tormenting his little brother, but whatever was, was still scaring the living crap out of his brother, and that was never ok.

"Then who?" He asked, for once praying that it could clowns or something simple. He took another step towards him, but when he did Sam made a noise he wished he never heard. Dean stopped moving immediately. The noise stopped. He slowly moved again, and Sam squeezed his eyes shut and took in slow labored breaths. Dean stopped moving all together,

"Sammy, who is it?" His voice was now shaking and he feared the answer. Sam looked up at him, eyes wet, and filled with fear, his clutch on Cas never faltering, and whispered,

"You"

SPN SPN SPN SPN

Dean was pacing outside the medical room. Castiel had told him to leave, seeing as his presence just made Sam's condition worse. He had of course protested, he had tried to push past the angel to get to Sam, but seeing that broken and lost look on his face put a stop to any fight he had in him. How could he be Sam's worst nightmare? Sure they have had fights, but everyone does. He had never seen his brother so distraught, and afraid, even when Lucifer was hitchhiking his brain. The way he looked at him, it was like he was the monster that was under Sam's bed as a child. But this time Sam wouldn't run to Dean for comfort.

He thought they were starting to repair their relationship, but Demon-him must have left an even worse impact than he first realized. How could he have been so stupid? Threatening to kill Sam, hunting him down, he knew first hand how badly it hurt when someone you love turns against you. Dean groaned and sat down against the wall, letting his head fall back with a dull thud. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the memory of hearing Sam whimper and scream, knowing he was the cause of it.

SPN SPN SPN SPN

Sam was sat with his knees to his chest on the bed. He knew he was in the bunker, he just didn't understand how. Or if it was real for that matter. This could very well be an illusion that his brain conjured up. He could still be bleeding out in the woods alone, curled up and left for dead, by an imaginary Dean. But if this was an illusion, it was very realistic because Castiel was standing at the foot of the bed looking at him concerned. But at least it wasn't not- Dean who had disappeared for now. He remembered waking up and seeing Not-Dean standing over him, he remembered hearing the words "come on bitch open your eyes" in his sleep. He remembered feeling cold hands push him, fingers crushing his still didn't understand how Castiel got him to leave. He still felt scared, but he couldn't tell if it was real fear or ghost sickness fear. Maybe this was just part of Not-Deans elaborate trick.

"Is this real?" He asked in a quiet voice, but immediately regretted it when Castiel made his way over to him. He was somehow miraculously healed, he didn't want to go back to that scorching pain. He felt his limbs get all twitchy, getting ready to flee. His somewhat regular breaths were becoming irregular, Castiel noticed and slowed down.

"I'm not going to hurt you Sam". Sam looked hesitant still, but he didn't put up a fight as Cas sat down next to him.

"Are you real?" Sam asked again, in the same quiet and hesitant voice. He felt pathetic. He was a fully grown- overgrown man, and he was acting like a little kid who just sat on Father Christmas' lap, and asked if he was real. The angel looked at him with a look that almost resembled sympathy.

"I am real Sam, this is all real" Cas let that sink in before adding, "you are safe now". Sam looked up at him wide eyed.

"You sure?," his voice gained a little more confidence but still remained timid as if he was walking on eggshells. Castiel moved his body so he could look Sam in the eye,

"Yes, I'm here, Deans here-" He trailed off when he saw Sam's face turn into one of fear and confusion,

"No he can't be here, Dean isn't coming, h-he said so, this isn't real!" His breathing became uneven again for the hundredth time, he felt sweaty, confused, scared and wanted nothing more for it all to stop. For good.

He climbed off the bed and headed towards the door. "Sam, you need to calm down," Sam huffed at that but quieted down when he saw Cas stand up too. The Angel was trying to sound as kind and gentle as his gruff voice allowed him. "Who said Dean isn't coming?" Sam looked at him like it was the most obvious answer in the world

"Dean! Well not Dean Dean, it was Not-Dean." Castiel knew many things, he was there from the beginning of time, and he would most likely be there to the end, he had seen and heard it all, but in this very moment the angel found himself utterly lost and confused.

"Huh?"

"The ghost sickness, I think, created this Not-Dean, he acts and talks like the real one but isn't the real one," Sam tried his best to explain it, but Castiel didn't seem to quite get it.

"I'm not crazy, I swear!" Sam insisted. Castiel sighed and motioned for Sam to sit back down on the bed.

"I believe you Sam, but if you know it's just the ghost sickness then why did you think this wasn't real?" As Sam sat down, he looked thoughtful,

"Just because I knew it wasn't real, didn't make it any less painful or scary." He took a deep breath,

"You have no idea what he did." He couldn't help the tears that slithered their way into his eyes.

"It's ok Sam, but I promise this is the real Dean, the same big brother that has always been at your side. How do you think you got here?" Sam looked at him with a muddled look.

"I-I don't know," he took a breath, "I honestly just assumed this was an illusion," The angel smiled a bit and said,

"Well your brother brought you back, he spent every moment when you were gone worrying his head off, and he is most likely digging himself into the ground with guilt knowing he is your biggest fear." Sam looked at Cas stunned.

"Dean isn't my biggest fear," The angel waited for Sam to continue but Sam ended the sentence like it explained everything.

"I-I don't understand," Sam looked away from Castiel's gaze like he was ashamed,

"My biggest fear, is um, is lett-letting Dean down, and having him hate me," he softly chuckled at the end,

"It's stupid,"

The angel didn't know what to say, he wanted to comfort the youngest Winchester, but nothing he could say would relieve any of the fear. There was several moments of awkward silence, when Castiel spoke,

"Are you hungry?" Sam looked at him and said,

"Actually yeah, starving!" The angel smiled, excused himself and left the room, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts.

He sighed and leaned back against the bed, closing his eyes. He opened them again when he felt a strange feeling in the pool of his stomach. It felt similar to when he was lost and alone in the woods, but this was different and more powerful. His fight and flight senses were on full drive, eyes scanning everywhere. He could feel his heart banging against his ribs, making it hard to breathe. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he stood up and slowly walked towards the door, he was breathing hard, lungs refusing to take in air. His hands felt clammy and he was shaking hard. When he reached the door, he reached out a shaky arm and locked the door. He slowly backed up from the door but stopped when he felt a gust of cold wind behind him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck, mouth going dry. His body froze, fear crippling him, the color drained from his face, the sound of his pulse blocked out any other noise, a feeling of dread crept up from the bit of his stomach. He forced his muscles to move, and as he turned around he saw Not-Dean standing tall, eyes black and cold, his smile never reaching his heart. Sam's eyes traveled down, and if he could shake any harder, breathe any faster he would, when he saw that Not-Dean was holding a gun out towards Sam, almost as if he wanted him to take it.

"Hello Sammy. Miss me?"

Thank you so much for reading! Once again so sorry for taking forever to update, I have no idea when the next chapter will be ready, but I will work on it whenever I can, I promise. Covid is getting bad out there again, especially with the delta variant. Please please please stay safe, wear a mask whenever you can, get vaccinated if possible, and just stay healthy! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you can I would love to hear from you guys letting me know what you think :) Have a wonderful rest of your day,

-OnceUponaKitten