Dean was going to go insane. He had been in this cell for about 5 weeks now and he had nothing to do but think. He had tried to exercise hoping that he could quiet the constant voices in his head and the compressing silence all around him. He eventually tired out though. The prison food was disgusting and although he did eat it when he got too hungry it still didn't give him the stamina he needed to exercise for extremely long periods of time. He was also extremely worried about his brother.

If he was starting to struggle with his time in hell, starting to hear Alistair in his head because of the lack of stimulation and oppressive silence he couldn't imagine how hard it had to be for Sam. His brother was strong but he also knew him. He knew the conditions that had to be met and every one of them had been. Sam did not do well in anything that resembled a cage and the longer he was there the worse it would undoubtedly be. And not being able to help him, to comfort him when it was very possible he was being tormented by his torturer from hell just as Dean had started to be had to be the worst punishment of all.

Sam had tried to ignore Lucifer knowing it wasn't the same as it had been all those years ago. These hallucinations came from lack of stimulation, malnutrition, and sleep deprivation. They weren't nearly as vivid as they had been then but they were present all the same and really starting to get to him. He had been okay, at first trying to exercise as much as he possibly could because it always helped him before.

He had gotten worn out though, his body only being able to take so much before he collapsed. He had also tried to keep his mind on his brother and think about how Dean would be fairing. They had practically lived in each other's pockets their entire lives their longest separation having been when he had been at Standford. He hated being in anything like a cage and he was honestly wondering how much longer he could do this. He had started having panic attacks recently and if he didn't get out soon he would probably go insane.

Dean had finally had enough. He had this weird feeling that something was wrong with Sam and he was starting to get desperate to see what was wrong. Dean had always called it his "big brother sense" always knowing when something was happening to his brother. It felt like a pit in his stomach and he always recognized the feeling right away. Sam had his own "little brother sense" that was fine-tuned to Dean. It went both ways but right now his big brother sense was screaming at him that something was wrong. So when the guards came in to give him his food he decided to fight back. He hadn't fought them, not since he first came in but he needed to get to his brother.

There was only one guard that came to give them food so when he came Dean twisted the guard's wrist before he could react. This maneuver knocked the gun from the guard's hand and while the guard was distracted he picked up the gun and aimed it at his head.

"Where's my brother?" Dean growled.

"You don't have a brother, maggot. You lost him the second you entered this prison!" The guard yelled back with the gun still trained at his head.

Dean didn't have time for this. If he was going to find Sam and help him and then get them out of there he needed to do it before every guard in this prison was on them. He quickly shot the guy in the leg not wanting to kill a person but a little pissed off with the comment he had made and then grabbed the gun and the keys the guard had on him. The guard had fallen on the floor when he had been shot and though he most likely wouldn't die he wouldn't be a threat anymore either.

Dean sidestepped the guy on the floor and ran to the cell Sam was in. He knew exactly which one it was because he had watched Sam try to fight the guards who were leading him into it.

"Sammy?" Dean called.

He immediately saw his brother on the floor with his arms around his knees and his head resting on his arms.

"Sammy. Hey, you okay?"

"Dean?" Sam asked quietly his voice hoarse from not using it for so long.

"Yeah, it's me you ready to get out here?" Dean asks knowing their short on time but still not wanting to rush his brother too much.

"Yeah."

Dean pulls his brother up by the arm and then gives him the gun that he had taken from the guard. Dean figures he can just take out another guard and get another gun later. Sam's still shaky though and he wants him to have a way to protect himself just in case. Dean feels better than he has in weeks finally being able to get away from that cell, be back with his brother, and get them both out of this alive.

Hours later, Sam and Dean were finally back in the Bunker. They had tried to limit human casualties knowing those people were just soldiers following orders but they still needed to get out of there and they had. Sam had been trying to sleep for a while now and Dean had eventually gone to his bed to try to do the same.

It was a little while later that Dean heard his brother scream his name. He grabbed his gun just in case but he knew that most likely his little brother was just having a nightmare. When he got to Sam's room Sam was sleeping so Dean put his gun back into his waistband.

"Sammy?" He called.

He went over to Sam's bed and lightly shook him. Sam woke up gasping.

"Sam, you okay?"

Sam was shaking a bit and Dean could tell he wasn't completely with it. He only got like that after a nightmare about the cage.

"Sammy?" Dean called again.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

It had been an awful last couple of weeks and Sam had known even as he had closed his eyes that he would be having nightmares. Dean didn't know about the panic attacks but he had a feeling before his brother even asked that they would be having this conversation.

"How bad was it?" Dean asked quietly.

"It was pretty bad. Had a few panic attacks. You?"

Yeah. It was bad for me too. But it's over now. You planning on getting any more sleep tonight?"

"No probably not. You want to watch something?"

"Sure."

A little while later they were sitting on Sam's bed watching Game of Thrones. Eventually, they fell asleep with their heads against the headboard with the show playing in the background. It was a restful sleep and neither of them had nightmares. Neither one of them would admit it but they both had been worried sick about the other and had needed to be close to remind themselves that the other was okay.