According to Paul Reber, a psychology professor at Northwestern University, the human brain can store 2.5 petabytes of memories. That's 3 million hours. A person could feasibly hold over 300 years worth of memories. In conclusion; Sam remembers everything.

S07E17

Chapter Text

It was strange to suddenly remember a whole millennium of life when you previously only remembered the last few months. It was overwhelming – like filling a snail's shell with the body of a horse. But he was a celestial entity. The memories pained him, but it was only a mild grievance to expand his mind to where he could remember it all and put every piece in its right time. But Sam.

Oh, Sam.

When Castiel pressed his fingers to Sam's brow he felt the thrashing horror there. Swelling out from Sam's skull – like a swarm of wasps breaking out of the hive, darkening the sky, never ending. He felt the magnitude of two lifetimes stuffed into one. All of it screaming at him all at the same time, trying to pack millions of hours into one. Nothing was chronological. It was all now.

It had broken Sam.

Cas drew back; the very human feeling of his stomach dropping shook him.

"You're not real…" Sam said and rolled his head.

Dread. The feeling was dread.

It was too much to hope that by saving Sam he could redeem himself to the brothers. With how bad it looked, Sam would likely die in a day or so. And it would be because of Cas. Not just his fault, but because of him. He'd done this to him. He'd kill the man Dean had sworn to protect, and by proxy a man whom Cas had sworn to protect. He'd kill Sam Winchester.

Cas wondered if there was something else he could do, but his mind had gone completely white. Like an echo, his sin bounded off the far reaches of his mind, filling him with noise. He couldn't think past his failures anymore. He needed Dean to tell him what to do. He would think of something.

Dean. What would he tell him? White. Blank. He couldn't think of any solutions there either.

All he could do was wheel Sam back to his brother, head low.

He left the burned-out vessel on the floor of the hospital and pushed Sam's gurney into a hallway. He would not normally leave a body in a situation like this with so many civilians about. But just before he flew in to see Sam, he had caught the back end of Meg offering to clean up. She would likely buy them enough time to leave the hospital.

He followed the signs that seemed correct and eventually found himself carting Sam down a long hallway. Nurses swept past him and patients in white looked on from their rooms – the drama of the staff being their only source of entertainment.

At the end of the hall was Dean and a shorter man in a long white coat. They both jogged over when they spotted him. Dean didn't look at Cas but went straight for his brother, dropping a hand to Sam's shoulder.

"Sam?" Dean shook him eagerly, but Sam rolled his head and hitched his breath, squirming and muttering in distress until Dean drew back. "Sam it's me…"

"He can't see you." Cas said. Dean glanced at him and he could feel the cold anger there. Cas looked away. The other man, Cas assumed was the doctor, had nudged them both away to look over Sam. The doctor pulled out a pen light and tried to get his patient to look at him but Sam wouldn't cooperate. He prodded at his pulse and the new marks on his brow from the electroshock machine. Sam began to hyperventilate, kicking and pulling against his restraints.

"I'll need to give him a sedative so I can get a better look at him." The doctor said as he moved to the head of the gurney. "Wait here for a moment. We'll be back."

They both watched as Sam was wheeled away, his head still rocking back and forth, until he rounded a corner and was gone. Cas didn't look at Dean, but he felt his eyes on him. Finally, Dean huffed and moved down the hall. Cas followed at a distance.

They looked at Sam from the doorway. The sedatives didn't put him to sleep, but they calmed him enough for the doctors to take the restraints off. Sam's eyes roamed around the room. Cas didn't know what exactly he was seeing but he could feel the quaking, tired insanity filling the room with a hazy vibration. It's all waves.

"So you're saying there's nothing?" Dean's voice was thicker "He's going to be like this until his candle blows out?"

"…I'm sorry." Cas said. "This isn't a problem I can make disappear. You know that."

"But you can't do anything?" Dean pushed off from the wall and gestured with his arms – jerky, tight. "You can't…fix anything? You can't even put him to sleep? Help him feel better?"

Cas looked down, quiet. Dean breathed in, clenching his fists.

"You did this to him, Cas." Dean nearly grabbed him but managed to keep his fists wound in. His voice was a harsh, forced whisper to keep himself from flat out yelling. "You owe it to him to do something. Anything."

Dean watched him, and Cas didn't need to see his trembling shoulders to feel the anger rolling off him. The angel was silent a minute longer before straightening.

"I can… heal his physical ailments." Cas said, avoiding Dean's eyes by looking at Sam. "It's not a guarantee, but I may be able to put him to sleep. However…" He glanced up at Dean and paused when he saw his eyes.

"The process you're suggesting might not work. It might only prolong his suffering..."

"No." Dean punched out and Cas just nodded. He was expecting that. Cas himself was partial to the idea of mercy, even if it meant death. But he knew that Dean would never accept that – not for Sam.

Cas moved to Sam's bed and sat on the edge of it. Sam flinched at the movement and looked at him, moving closer to the headboard in weary shifting motions.

"Sam, I know you're not seeing me right now." Cas lifted his hand slowly so Sam could see. "I'm going to touch you so I can heal you. Is that alright?"

Sam didn't answer but looked at him sidelong like an animal tensing to flee. Dean came over to the other side of the bed watching with those harsh, calculating eyes of his.

"Just do it, Cas."

The angel sighed and reached forward, pressing his fingers to Sam's chest. The younger Winchester squirmed and moved to shove Cas' hand away, but stopped as the healing began.

Human bodies were all different, but they all functioned on the same principals. Healing a body was never an issue. He'd restored Dean's body after four months of decomposition, pulling his atoms from the worms that had been eating at him. He'd done more impressive things eons past in the times of titans and gods.

He drew his hand back having restored Sam's body completely. His kidneys were functioning again, his blood pressure was back to normal, and he balanced out Sam's chemicals and hormones – though he could tell that they were already starting to fluctuate again. He'd even strengthened his nails and hair follicles. He took care not to leave anything out.

Sam let out a grunt that sounded like a question and started rubbing at his arms. Then his bandaged hand. Digging at it.

"Alright, Sam." Cas scooted a bit closer. He felt…nervous. Or perhaps trepidation was the right word. "I'm going to try and put you to sleep now. Please try to relax."

With that he reached out his fingers, but Sam immediately slapped his hand away, scrambling up against the headboard.

"Hey, easy Sammy." Dean put a hand on his chest, but Sam swiped that away too. "It's okay. It's me." Dean instead went for his wrists, gently this time. It took some wrangling, but Dean eventually got Sam's wrists pinned down to the bed by his sides. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and breathed heavily through his nose.

Cas tried again, pressing two fingers to his brow, and from there pressed in with his grace.

Sam's mind had always felt like a library to Cas. Vast but modest with vaulted ceilings and wide windows framing the forest view outside. Every wall was lined with books and a variety of old reliefs, paintings, and objects stemming from various cultures. There were cozy alcoves by the windows with plush sofas and emptied coffee mugs. Lush plants in the corners.

It was a maze of books and various magical charms with the smell of gun oil, leather, and cinnamon. The air hummed soothingly with the sound of old tapes switching between hymnals and something Dean called 'hair metal'.

In every corner, something Other lurked like a shadow just out of sight. Cas suspected it had to do with Sam's psychic abilities judging by the unnerving intelligence in the aura surrounding it. Watching, but not threatening.

But it was different now. Entering Sam's mind now was like jumping into a whirlwind. It was loud and wild; books flying off shelves, rot and termites tearing at the wood, charms burning, prayers playing on glitched loops in gritty, desperate voices. And all throughout was an ugly growth of some sort hanging from the ceiling, pushing through the floors, clinging to every surface. The growth was sharp and black and dripping, looking vaguely like iron wool soaked in oil and blood. It undulated and pulsed and sometimes thrashed out dangerously. It was Cas' second time here today, and it still unnerved him

Cas dodged around it all, moving through to the parts of Sam's brain that controlled sleep. Putting a human to sleep was much like picking a lock. There were many mechanisms in the human brain that, when activated simultaneously, would cause sleep. Usually it took a fraction of a second to get it done. But all of the pieces of Sam's mind were flung all over the place, replaced with that wire growth.

Cas began pushing the wire away in one section but the wire scraped at him. With it came a memory. The image was fleeting but it was of Sam's arms grappling blindly at bars. Something wet squelched in his ears and with it came a sick feeling of possessiveness and want and hunger – desperation pushed over the edge of sanity with a strangled wail. Cas shook his head and pushed it away, instead pressing his whole hand to Sam's head. He barely realized that Sam had begun to thrash again, kicking out weakly as Dean held him down.

He tried to organize the books on the shelves into the correct places, but with every book he'd put in place, two more would shoot back out. No matter what combination he tried, he couldn't get them all into place at once.

Moving to and fro only left him with more wounds and with each scratch an image or feeling was thrown into his head. Sam uncoiling his own intestines and leading them down own throat. Wires stretching skin, just the skin, into the shape of a grotesque eagle. A flash of grace so white and cold and powerful it seemed to suck the marrow from his bones, leaving him hollow. Tools thudding wetly on skin. The repetitive thought – he's coming he's coming he's coming fear piled on like stones.

Despite this Cas spread himself wide over Sam's mind to reach all the pieces. But it was like trying to unfold his wings while trapped in a net of unbreakable thorns. He wriggled and pushed – images and sensations throbbing through his core, and he felt himself bleed somewhere deep down. But it didn't matter. If he failed here with Sam… he'd have nothing left. If he didn't have the brothers and their forgiveness he didn't know what he would do. He couldn't atone for his sins without them.

He focused his energy and then thrashed out harshly. He heard something snap, felt something break, but the wires surrounding him had loosened. He could reach. And after a bit of concentration, finally, the lock snapped into place.

He huffed out a heavy breath and dropped his hand from Sam's head. Sam's chin fell to his chest and he breathed evenly now. His face was still a little tight but he was asleep.

Strangely, Cas felt like sleeping too.

Dean watched Cas' body slump as he took his hand away from Sam. He was shaking and breathing a little heavy. Dean felt a violent twist of vindication in his chest seeing him like that. He knew it was wrong but damn. This was the least Cas deserved.

Dean put a hand over Sam's pulse and leaned in to listen to his breathing.

He was breathing a little shallow, but even. His pulse a little fast, but steady. Five minutes passed without a stir and Dean leaned back with a sigh.

"Thank God." He wiped a hand down his face to gear himself up. "Okay."

More gentle the he'd been in years probably, Dean slid his hands under Sam to move him. When he looked up, Cas was just sitting there on the bed, staring out the window.

"Cas. Cas!" He hissed, jolting the angel out of his thoughts. "Get us a gurney, we're gettin outta here."

Cas moved wordlessly and quickly, grabbing the one from the hallway while Dean shifted Sam as slowly as possible. If he accidently woke him up, Dean would be… oh so mad.

The angel wheeled it over as Dean heaved Sam up, suddenly wobbling when Sam wasn't as heavy as he expected. Sam's size alone made him hard to lift but he had still lost a lot of weight, and Dean didn't like that one bit. Dean moved to lie him out on the gurney.

"Hey fellas!"

"Holy FUCKing shit!" Dean hissed, dropping Sam heavier than he'd meant. He steadied Sam; watched him with bated breath. He was still asleep.

Then he shot a glare at Meg in the doorway.

"What's with you guys and popping up like that? Use your damn legs!"

"Hey, give a girl a break." She shrugged, giving him that easy, nonchalant smile she always had. "You really wanna wait for me to walk all the way up here to tell you that the cops are coming?"

Dean closed his eyes and set his jaw.

"Your job was to – "

"I figured you didn't want me gutting the gal who caught me either. So. Here we are." She leaned back on her heels. Grinning. Like this was fun. Dean grit his teeth and made hasty movements to get behind Sam's gurney. Castiel seemed dazed as he nudged him towards the door, and Meg didn't seem hurried as he waved her out too. God – it was like herding cats.

"You didn't knock her out at least?" He hissed, pushing Sam out and looking both ways for Dr. Kandinsky. Seeing that he was gone, he ushered the party towards the main doors.

"Oh I did," Meg smiled. "But she'd already dialed the number and hung up, and you know what that means." Dean huffed a breath out through his nose.

"Just as long as we get outta here." Dean grumbled, halting his words as they passed one of the nurses. She was turned and busy so she didn't bother them, but there were so many people in the psyche ward all the time – even at this late hour. "You guys keep watch for anyone who might wanna stop us."

Meg sighed. "Whatever."

"Cas?" Dean turned his head to look at the angel who was following. Cas blinked a couple times.

"Ah. Yes. Of course. I will keep an eye out."

"Don't get too excited, Clarence." Meg gave Cas a wry smile that could have been described as dazzling compared to her usual twisted and mischievous smirks.

"I am not – " Cas stopped himself from finishing, instead wiping a hand at his haggard eyes. Meg tilted her head at him as he moved towards the front, pushing through the security door and looking both ways.

"Our feathery little friend seems more flighty than normal." Meg observed with a questioning look towards Dean. The hunter ignored her, instead acting on Cas' signal that they were clear and moving Sam through the doors towards the elevator. Looking around, he immediately felt better at the lack of staff in this section.

"So what're our covers?" Meg continued, winking at Castiel. "Think I can pass as your girlfriend?"

Castiel made some barely audible, stuttered reply as Dean slapped the down button until the doors finally opened. With everyone inside, the oddly tropical elevator music came on and filled the silence. They all fidgeted awkwardly, stuffed in there like that for a good five minutes.

What is it about elevators that automatically made things so awful?

Finally, the elevator dropped them off near the lobby, but Dean veered the party away from the front door further down the hallway.

"One of the receptionists gave us a funny look." Meg muttered as if personally offended. "I could go wipe that self-righteous Judge Judy look right off her plastic face."

"You already know you can't." Dean grumbled, as he followed the signs towards the ambulance bay where they had come in from. The rest of the trip was mostly silent with Cas at the front, alert but still somehow… off – Dean in the middle and Meg dragging her feet in the rear.

Cas pulled up abruptly ahead, and Dean nearly knocked him over with Sam's gurney. Before he could ask, he heard the stern, law-lingo voice of a cop up ahead.

"When are cops ever that fast?" Dean growled, breaking out in a nervous sweat. He moved away from Sam to peer around the corner. Just outside the large double doors that read Ambulance Bay, three officers and a handful of medical staff chattered. Another cop pushed through the doors, breaking news that they had found five bodies just outside. The doctors stammered wide-eyed and pale while the officers muttered into their radios.

"Now what?" Cas whispered beside him.

Before he could answer, a frightened, questioning grunt sounded from behind them. The cops whipped their heads up and at the same time Dean whipped his head towards Sam, seeing him struggling. Meg, who was standing beside Sam, just shrugged.

"Sam – shh!" Dean scrambled to him and took his shoulders.

"No!" Sam said, weary but loud enough. Dean slapped his hand over Sam's mouth, but that just caused him to cry out louder.

"Dean, they're coming." Cas said ducking back behind the wall. "What do we do?"

"Uhhh – kitchen! They always have a backdoor in the kitchen." He waved the group back down the corridor. "Cas, help me with him."

He gestured for Cas to push while he continued trying to soothe his brother into silence. Though Sam pulled and muffled against his hand, he was for the most part easy to manage as they jogged down the hallway.

"Meg – so help me, if you don't start pulling your weight here I'm gonna – "

"Oh, shut it." Meg chided wryly. "Just cause I'm a demon doesn't mean I'm gonna weigh ya down."

"That's totally what I expect from you based on my experience." Dean grumbled.

"Left up ahead."

Sure enough, the sign for the kitchen read left, so they took it.

"It feels so nice to be needed." She grinned, wiggling her shoulders playfully. Maybe seductively. Dean ignored her as they raced down the hallways, the sound of multiple clapping shoes definitely behind them. Sam was wheezing and shifting weakly. Dean hated to watch him like that. It made him angry.

After a few more turns they were finally moving through the doors into the kitchen. Literally the only staff they had seen on this whole level was walking out with a late-night snack. Dean didn't care at this point, but just nudged Cas to push Sam through.

"Excuse us, sir." The angel said as they pushed passed, ignoring his bewildered face.

"Hey!" The male nurse acted just fast enough to grab Meg's arm as she passed as well. But when the boys glanced back, Meg gave them a wicked smile.

"Don't worry boys, I'll take care of this. Just keep an eye on halo boy for me." She said. Behind her, beyond the nurse, Dean saw the group of cops finally round the corner towards them. Dean had no reason to argue and took that opportunity to get out.

The night air struck them like cool water. Maybe it smelled like garbage thanks to the huge refuse bin nearby, but it was still refreshing. Behind them, Dean heard Meg and the cops throwing threats around so he knew they didn't have much time.

"Okay, help me get Sam." Dean said, going for the restraints on his brother's arms. Cas focused on his legs but just as he got one loose, Sam thrust his shoe right into Cas' nose. Cas grunted, but was unfazed, grabbing both his legs as he struggled.

"Sam, stop!" Dean tried, wrestling with Sam's thrashing arms. He managed to haul Sam up to sit, with Cas holding his kicking legs down to the gurney.

"No. No! Get off!" Sam yelled loud enough for the cops to hear, surely. They were so screwed. Dean again put his hand over Sam's mouth, struggling to pin both of Sam's arms behind his back. Sam was so weak but still so slippery. But he managed to pin Sam's arms to his side with a forceful embrace, hand still stiff over Sam's mouth. As he and Cas were moving Sam off the cot, his brother bit down hard on the palm of his hand.

"Ow! Fuck – " In his haste to pull away, Dean lost his hold on Sam and he went crashing down – cracking his skull on the pavement below. Then he was suddenly still. Dean winced just looking at him. His powerhouse of a brother, now so weak that a fall could knock him out like that. He hated it. Hated what his stupid memories were doing to him. What Cas had jump-started with his selfish, self-righteous power hunt. Hated it.

"Dean, we must hurry." Cas said, stooping down to pick Sam up. Dean swatted his hands away and reached for Sam instead, pulling him over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. With Sam situated, they quickly bolted towards the west side of the hospital where the impala was waiting beyond a curtain of thin forestry.

Just as they got to the line of shrubbery, the back door opened with a loud bang, cops with guns drawn bursting out. Cas and Dean dropped, holding deathly still in the shadowy cover of the leaves. They watched as the cops flung flashlights around. Close behind came Meg, cuffed and being led by an officer outside. His voice was grating and loud as he demanded answers from her.

Instead of answering, she scanned the tree line until she found them. Meeting Cas' eyes, she gave him a wink before throwing a kick to the officer's head, knocking him flat on his ass in a second. The whole back lot turned to chaos at that moment with guns firing and cops being tossed about like playthings.

Dean bolted for the impala, Cas fast on his heels. They shouldered through the trees. Ran around streetlights through the dark until they met a hill. Scaling up it, they finally made it to the impala. Besides having to shoulder the awkward weight of his brother, the rest of the flight went off without a hitch. Cas opened the back door for Dean, the sounds of fighting still not too far off.

Just as he tried to slide Sam into the back seat, he jolted awake, wriggling and moaning. Dean struggled to be gentle as he wrangled his weak brother into the car. Sam kicked and swatted the whole way, muttering no's and don'ts wearily.

"Take it easy, we're almost there." Dean said, his voice and expression tight as he guided Sam's feet inside. Before he could wriggle out, Dean shut the door behind him. He huffed an exhausted breath.

"Take care of Sam while I drive, alright?" Dean said, moving to the driver's side. Cas nodded wordlessly and opened the other back door. He gently slid in, guiding Sam's upper body up so he could put the hunter's head in his lap.

"It's okay, Sam." He said, gently stilling Sam's struggles with strong hands. Then he put his fingers to his brow once more and concentrated, never taking his hand away.

Under Cas' influence, Sam slept the whole way home.

Sam woke to a dull pain in the back of his head and over his shoulders. It was cold and the air was humming. Buzzing in a way that made him feel like his surroundings were hollow, and that something outside this room was trying to suck away the last piece of reality that existed.

Past the ringing there was a low murmuring of voices. He opened his eyes. Instead of the sterile-white ceiling tiles he was expecting, he saw wooden rafters and dust floating in from a window. He squinted his eyes at it, and he tried to backtrack but his head felt thick and watery. If he wasn't in the hospital, then either Dean had saved him or he had died.

Please let me be dead.

But the murmuring came back to him, and it sounded like Dean. Maybe this was his heaven. But he didn't think it should hurt to be here. Maybe this was his hell. Maybe – then a horrifying thought came to him.

Maybe he died and went back to the cage.

His mind suddenly kicked into overdrive – the buzzing intensifying. He turned his head and found the shape of Dean silhouetted by the light in the doorway. He was talking with another shape but Sam's blurry vision couldn't make it all out.

"De…" It wheezed out in a whisper. It was hard to breathe. Sam cleared his throat. "Dean."

His brother turned to him and in a second he was by his side.

"Sam, hey." He put a hand on his shoulder. Sam's panic spiked and he shifted back, but reached out for Dean's jacket at the same time. He was so confused. He just needed Dean – the real Dean.

"Where am I?" Sam asked, and Dean gave him a tight smile.

"We're back at the cabin – "

"No, where – ?" He cut off, heaving in a breath. He couldn't breathe. His brain felt like static.

"Sam?" Dean shook him, pushing the hair out of his face and trying to catch his eyes. "Sam, look at me!"

"He's having a panic attack." A thick, gravelly voice. Then the second silhouette came up from behind Dean. Finally, he could make out who it was.

"Cas?" Sam wheezed. Cas had an unfamiliar, haggard look to him, but it was definitely him. Now Sam knew something was wrong. Maybe he was alive and still hallucinating. Maybe he was in hell. But if he was in the cage…

"Don't." Sam said, tears gathering in his eyes. "Don't. I'm done. I'm done. Just don't take their faces. Please – "

"Sam, it's me. I promise it's me, okay?" Dean grabbed his face, making him meet his eyes. "Stone number one, right?"

Sam blinked, the tears falling against Dean's palms. He didn't know. He just didn't know, and that was the worst part. He squeezed his eyes shut and just tried to breathe. He felt the bed shift as Cas sat down.

"Sam." Cas' voice was full of sorrow, which was strange to Sam, and he didn't quite know what to make of it. If it was a good sign or not. He didn't know. The angel grabbed his wrist gently to get his attention.

"I am so sorry I did this to you, Samuel." The angel continued, and Sam met his haunted eyes. Dean glanced at Cas, body tense and cold towards him. It was a familiar look on an angry, protective Dean, but Sam was too scared of being tricked to believe it.

"It was wrong what I did. And I can't ask for forgiveness. But I'm going to make it right. I'm going to heal you." The angel finished, gently cupping his hand in both of his. Sam looked at him in disbelief, still shaking and breathing heavily. He tried to move away from everyone touching him. Cas let go but Dean shifted his hands down to his shoulders and held firm.

"I know you're not thinking straight, Sammy. And Cas showing up doesn't help. I thought he was dead too." Dean's face was sincere but strong, the same face he put on so many months ago in that warehouse. "But you gotta trust me right now. I'll fill you in on how I found Cas a bit later. For now, just let us help you. Cas and I worked out a plan, and it'll take some time, but you'll get better. Okay?"

Sam took a deep breath in. He was feeling a bit light headed, but Dean's voice alone – in that tone he used when he was worried – it soothed him a small amount. He wiped away his tears with shaky hands and glanced between the two, unsure. He didn't truly know who he was looking at, but he wanted so bad for it to be Dean. But he couldn't just believe that this was real. Not in the state he was in.

"No…" Sam's voice was thick. "I don't – I don't know what's real – "

"I know, Sammy. But you just gotta trust me on this one."

Sam shook his head. "I can't – I can't…" His breathing picked up again, and the dizzy haze in his head grew thicker.

He was so tired. He just wanted to die. Sleep for a thousand years.

"Hey – Sam. Sam, you gotta breathe." Dean shook him gently. Sam's eyes were rolling to the back of his head, the wind in his throat wheezing. At a loss, Dean looked to Cas.

Cas met his eyes for a brief moment before nodding and extending his hand.

"Sleep, Sam." He said, furrowing his brow as he touched Sam. The youngest wriggled weakly, but after a minute or two, finally became slack under Cas' bidding.

The angel groaned, cupping his head with his hand. There were bags beginning to form under his eyes, and his posture had turned frumpy. Dean watched him, not a hint of sympathy on his face, but the worry for his brother still carried.

"You gonna be able to keep doing that?" He asked. Cas was silent a moment before he nodded, making an effort to straighten into his usual, silently powerful posture.

"Yes." He said. "I must. I will be strong enough."