Notes: I'm just going to make this brief but if you have read this somewhere, then it is either because I have this on ao3 (up to part 7 as of this post) and I had originally uploaded the first 2 parts here but for the life of me I can't remember the email I used for my previous account and so I decided to make a new one for the readers on here. If you want to follow the story on ao3, you can search up randomfills. This is also heavy on Dean whump and not a pro John story. That's all for now. Hope everyone's staying safe!
Title: the lies I tell myself
Synopsis: Alt. take on season 14, episode "Nihilism". Sam and Cas have a plan to bring Dean, literally, out of his head, but Michael is ready for them and once they enter Dean's mind, they quickly realize they're in Michael's playground and Dean has been hiding things...things that even Sam didn't know. (mentions of abuse, flashbacks).
Part 1 - down the rabbit hole
"Cool science project, guys." Sam gritted his teeth, as he watched Cas finish hooking up Dean's body to the machine. He sat down across from the thing wearing his brother like a cheap suit. This was not Dean, he reminded himself. It may look like his brother with his green eyes, and deep voice and smirk, but it was not Dean. "I give it a solid B-." He watched mutely as Cas paused over not-Dean's shoulder to stare at Sam, as if asking silently, 'Are you sure you want to do this, Sam?'
And of course Sam did. He was going to rescue Dean, no matter what it took. He nodded, even as not-Dean looked at him, then at Cas, the curl of his lips twisting into a smile that would've looked at home on his brother in any other circumstance. Sam swallowed, his mind going numb, thinking about what horrors were laying in wait for them, how Michael could've trapped Dean in his own head. Drowning. His brother would be more than drowning. He'd be buried, under torment and pain and horror and every last horrible memory from his life. Michael was all about torture, wasn't he? He'd shown that in his world, where he trapped Jack, and mom. Sam could feel his stomach clench at the thought.
He nearly jumped when he felt a hand clamp tightly on his shoulder and he looked up to see Cas looking down at him, his eyes telling Sam he knew what he was thinking and he was just as troubled. Jack stood behind them both. "You guys are sure about this?" Jack whispered, and Sam twisted around to look at the nephilim. Jack licked his lips, a bad habit of his when he was nervous, Sam noted. "You don't know what you're walking into, Sam," he said.
Sam nodded, determined. Of course he knew the risks. He knew Dean's head was pretty messed up. It would be after everything they all endured, everything Dean endured. But Dean was strong and he was holding out, waiting for them to rescue him and he wasn't going to disappoint his brother. Not again. Never again. Sam had to do this. "I know," he said softly.
"I can...I can help," Jack told them. "I can come with you."
Cas shook his head and Jack looked ready to protest. "No, Jack," he said, "we need someone to stay here. Michael has monsters on their way, and we need you to protect our bodies."
Sam could see the disappointment in Jack's face. The kid was piss poor at hiding his emotions. Though Sam didn't fault him for the way he felt. They'd all been there, Sam especially. Before he realized what he was doing, he reached a hand to grab Jack's arm and pulled him close, "Hey, Jack, I know it doesn't seem fair right now," he said to him, "but Cas is right. You'll be a bigger help if you stay here. We need someone on the outside."
Jack didn't say anything, but he didn't pull away either. Sam felt compelled to give him a hug. He pulled him into a half hug. "We're going to get him back. Don't worry," Sam promised. He didn't want to let Jack go, but he could feel Cas shifting slightly next to him and Sam had to sigh. They could do this. Pull Dean out of wherever Michael was keeping him. They've done worse, gone up against worse. And they always managed to come out on top.
"Aw, look at you guys," the familiar drawl had Sam jerking his head up. Dean's face was smiling back at him, a twisted parody of his brother. "An ex-blood junkie, a useless half-breed and a baby in a trench coat - hey, don't look at me like that. Those were his words, not mine," not-Dean shrugged at Cas' glare. "You guys are adorable, though. Too bad you're all going to die tonight."
Sam opened his mouth to say something but Jack had shrugged himself out of his grip and was marching over to not-Dean. He clamped his hand down on not-Dean's shoulder and Sam had to bite back the urge to wince because it looked like it would hurt in any other circumstance. Not-Dean, Michael, didn't seem the least bit concerned. He still wore that creepy smile, baring perfect white teeth.
"We're not going to die," Jack growled out. "We're going to stop you - Dean is going to stop you. You're not going to hurt anyone ever again."
"Right. Sure, you are. You and your army are going to come marching in here and kill me." Michael paused. "Oh wait. That's my army. You don't have one." He laughed, the sound familiar and yet not, grating on Sam's ears. It was wrong. It wasn't his brother, even though it was Dean's voice.
He could feel Cas' grip tighten, just a little, and out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Jack shifting, taking a more defensive stance as he glared over at Michael. There was a deep hatred in his eyes that Sam sometimes found unnerving and he had to remind himself, again, that Jack was on their side.
"Ready?" Cas' voice was low and Sam almost didn't hear it.
He took a deep breath in, and then a moment later, released it. "Yeah," he said and he ignored how his own voice was just above a whisper and wavering, like he wasn't ready and he might be having second thoughts but this was Dean. This was his brother and Sam had to stow away the urge to panic that was suddenly bubbling in his chest and he couldn't let himself back out now.
"Relax, Sam," Cas was whispering in his ear, his breath hot and tickling and soothing. Sam found himself closing his eyes as the machine whirred to life and Cas might have been whispering more things like 'we'll get him back' and 'everything's going to be okay' and 'Dean's strong, you know this' and Jack might have been saying things like 'good luck, Sam', and 'I won't let anything happen to you guys out here, promise' and Michael might have been just laughing and laughing and laughing and Sam wasn't sure how long he could take all the noise before his head...suddenly everything stopped.
All the voices faded. Sam felt like he was floating, drifting. Maybe he'd fallen asleep, something in the back of his mind suggested.
"Sam."
He felt a little shake on his shoulders. He wanted to swat at it. He was tired and dreaming and he didn't want to wake up just yet.
"Sam."
The voice was louder, more urgent. The shaking, a little harder. He turned over. It was probably just Dean waking him up, wanting to look for a hunt. He'd have to wait.
"Sam. It's Castiel."
Why was Cas trying to wake him up?
"You're not asleep. We're looking for your brother. We're inside Dean's mind right now."
Wait...what?
Sam's eyes snapped open and he blinked up to see the angel peering down at him, concern on his face. He offered a hand to help Sam to his feet.
"What happened?" he asked, slowly remembering him and Cas trying to find a way to free Dean from Michael.
"I...I'm not really sure. The machine was supposed to connect us with Dean's mind," Cas answered, looking around into the darkness. "I opened my eyes and saw all this and you on the floor. Are you okay, Sam? It looked like you were sleeping."
Sam frowned and looked down at his hands. "Yeah. I think I'm okay. Must be some weird side-effects from the machine. It felt like I'd been sleeping. But you don't seem to be affected." He looked up to inspect the angel. Cas really looked unaffected.
Cas shook his head. "I'm perfectly fine."
Sam let his eyes wander. There was nothing here that indicated this was Dean's mind. "So you think it worked? You think we're really in Dean's head?" It looked so oddly empty, it terrified Sam.
Cas looked around again and Sam watched the angel. "Yes," he said confidently. He started to walk and Sam rushed to catch up.
"How can you tell?" Sam demanded, as he looked into the darkness. He wondered if the angel could see something he couldn't. It was eerily quiet and too dark to tell.
Cas abruptly stopped, his eyes focused on something ahead. Sam followed his gaze to see something in the distance. Something small and white. It was hard to tell from where they were. "What...what is that?" he asked in a whisper, not exactly sure why he was suddenly trying to be quiet. They were the only ones here right now.
"I'm not totally sure," Cas said after a moment. He started to walk closer to it and Sam decided to follow. He wasn't going to get left behind. No way.
The closer they got, the more Sam could feel his anxiety building. The thing was getting bigger and more rectangular and then took the shape of a door when they were just a few feet away. It was innocuous looking, something Sam saw on a million different buildings in his life. It could've been taken from a number of ratty motels they liked to sleep in when they'd been on hunts, before they found the bunker.
It was a door with a brown colored door knob.
Sam shared a look with Cas.
