Dean

Dean stalked down the hall as he mulled over what Sam said. He shook his head.

"I'm not crazy." He muttered to himself. Sure he was a bit screwed in the head after hell, and the whole deal with Lucifer was making him feel crazy, but Dean wasn't actually crazy. Although, his comment about Anna's possible lucidity, or return to it, niggled in the back of his mind. But the idea, that she had such control, even while out of her mind, worried Dean. Worried him for what it meant.

"You missed our session today." Dr. Cartwright's calm voice drifted from behind him as the brunette doctor joined him as he walked through the hospital. Dean wasn't in the mood to deal with the nosey shrink.

"A little busy." Dean snapped at her.

"Still hunting that wraith?" She asked him, completely unperturbed by his hostile tone.

"People are dying." He retorted impatiently, speeding up slightly as he tried to lose her. Instead the doctor speed up to match his pace, continuing to speak in her reasonable, calm voice that was beginning to get on Dean's nerves.

"People die all the time." She replied smoothly. Dean frowned at the callous indifference to innocent death. Just because death was common didn't make it any less tragic.

"Look, lady, why don't you just let me do my job, maybe save your life." He growled back at her.

"It's not my life that I'm worried about." Dean turned around, facing her fully, irritation rushing through him.

"Oh, my G-I am fine, okay? I'm fine." He insisted. An orderly down the hall glances over at them, but Dean ignored him as he fully focused his attention on the doctor in front of him.

"Come on, even you don't believe that. All this pressure that you're putting yourself under, all this guilt; it's killing you. You can't save everybody. You can't. Hell, these days, you can't save anybody, Dean." Her voice had gone hard and cold. Dean's blood chilled as she turned to walk away.

"What did you say?" He asked in a low dangerous voice. Dr. Cartwright turned back round to face him, dark eyes glinting with unexpected malice.

"The truth, Dean. You got Ellen and Jo killed. You shot Lucifer, but you couldn't gank him." She taunted him softly. Dean began to back away slowly, anger and confusion pouring through him. But most of all, fear. Dr. Cartwright advanced, matching him step for step.

"You couldn't stop Sam from killing Lilith, and - oh, yeah - you broke the first seal. All you do is fail. Did you really think that you, Dean Winchester with a GED and a give-'em-hell attitude, was gonna beat the devil?" She snorted.

"Please. The world is gonna burn, and there is nothing that you can do about it" True fear finally triggered his best defense mechanism. Anger.

"Who are you? How do you know that stuff?" He snarled at her. The orderly from before puts down the laundry in his hand.

"Hey, settle down." He ordered. Dean ignored him, instead stepping closer to the brunette doctor.

"Tell me!" He snarled into her face. Footsteps approach, but Dean continued to study the young doctor's face, sinister dark eyes meeting his own green ones steadily.

"Who are you?" He muttered to her, backing away slowly. He glanced at the approaching orderly.

"Who is she?" He demanded. The slightly round man in bright white scrubs sighed, looking resigned.

"Who?" The orderly asked tiredly. Dean grew angry again.

"What are you, blind? Her!" He snapped, gesturing forcefully at the woman. Sammy's words played in the back of his head, an ominous reel of a nightmare come to life.

"Pal, there's nobody there." The orderly said, even as the phantom doctor began to speak again.

"I'm not real, Dean. I'm in your head...because you are going crazy." She whispered to him maliciously. Dean backed away from her, glancing up at the orderly, then down again at the now empty place Dr. Cartwright had once stood.

"Just leave me alone." Dean muttered, turning away and marching down the hall. Adrenaline rushed through his body as he shakes in fear. Glancing up into a mirror, he noticed that the overly friendly nurse looked like the wraith. Dean shook his head, and noticed that two more patients he passed had similarly horrific reflections. He stumbled a little, as his logic left him, replaced by fear.

He slammed his body into a door, desperately trying to get through the locked door. He slides down the wall, eyes wide. Maybe Sam was right.

Maybe Dean really is going crazy.