Disclaimer: Supernatural, the Winchesters, and any other characters and/or places which may appear do not belong to me.

Whumptober 2020

Day #1; Time: 9:47pm

Prompt(s): Waking up restrained; shackled; hanging

Author's Note: Set around 13x11 Breakdown

References to 2x20 What Is and What Should Never Be and 13x05 Advanced Thanatology

Today's Whumpee: Sam Winchester

"Sammy, you gotta fight this!" Dean begged his little brother.

They'd been hunting a djinn. It should've been an easy case; they knew what to expect with djinn nowadays. At least that's what they had thought. But apparently this had been a different species or breed. It was stronger and faster, like no djinn the boys had ever seen before. Dean wondered if it could be some sort of Alpha-Djinn, but right now he didn't care much about what it was, just how to stop it. But first, he just needed his brother to wake up.

"Sammy, c'mon man, just listen to my voice, you gotta come back to me," Dean pleaded. His little brother way too pale, the green eyes were scrunched shut, and djinn hadn't been kind to him while stringing him up. The patches of blood, some not dry, were obvious signs of that. Dean started slowly and carefully detaching the tubes and IV from his brother's arms, all the while keeping up slow and steady encouragement.

Deep inside his consciousness, wrapped up inside a warped and other-worldly version of his life, Sam was living a life with Jess. They had a daughter named Mary who would soon be turning seven years old. Sam was a lawyer, and him and his family lived in New York. But no matter how much Sam wanted to live there, and believe it was real, he could feel that it was wrong.

He knew things couldn't be as perfect as they seemed. So he looked up names and dates. The names of the people him and Dean had saved, names of people he loved, dates of when the Apocalypse had almost happened, or when the Apocalypse had almost happened again. The things he read were disturbing, upsetting… so much so that Sam was terrified to type in one last name. But finally, he did.

And Sam, even though he'd half expected it because of what he'd already read, still felt his heart start pounding, still felt the blood drain away from his face, when he managed to find an autopsy report… for Dean Winchester.

Dean was dead. He had died under mysterious circumstances almost ten years ago.

Sam felt like he couldn't breathe. He felt like he couldn't think clearly. Dean was dead. And he wasn't coming back. He hadn't come back.

Every time Sam had lost Dean, every time, he'd always come back. When he'd died a hundred times over because of the Mystery Spot, Dean had come back. When he'd been stabbed through the chest by Metatron, Dean had come back, albeit as a demon, but still. And through all the close calls, all the near misses, Dean had always, always, pulled through.

But seeing the report, reading the words, Sam was spiraling. He wanted to stay with Jess so bad. He wanted to be a father to Mary, even if he'd only known her for a few days.

But he needed his brother. He'd always had Dean. Dean had always been there for him and now he wasn't. And all the people him and Dean had saved. So many other autopsy reports Sam had found, so many things he'd found news reports of that had confounded the world.

Sam knew what he had to do, but he wished he didn't have to. Everything was so messed up in his life right now. Jack and his mom were in some alternate world in god knows how much danger. They had no direction to move in; it felt like him and Dean had just been moving in circles for far too long. They had nowhere to go, nothing to fight with, no knowledge of how to open the rift.

And Sam couldn't help but feel guilty about how he'd been acting around Dean. He could see how depressed he had been, how deep of a 'dark place' he was in, and Dean had been trying so hard to get him out of it. Dean had been trying everything to lift Sam's spirits, to keep his little brother upbeat, assuring him that somewhere, somehow, they would fix this… like they always did.

Maybe Dean would be better off if Sam wasn't dragging him down.

But as that thought entered the younger Winchester's head, he instantly knew what Dean would do if Sam didn't come back. It wouldn't be a pleasant sight.

Sam could clearly recall how despondent his brother had been when they'd lost Cas just a few months previously, and he could only imagine how much worse it would be if he lost Sam.

His Jessica, his Mary, they looked at him and begged him to stay. They pleaded with him to stay and to live a happy and normal life, free of the torments and pain that his other life brought.

And Sam wanted to stay… he did. Jessica was so beautiful, the woman he had loved more than any other in his whole life. And his daughter…. Maybe Sam had only been living in this life for a few days, but he felt like this little girl was the light of his life.

But Sam knew. Tears filled his eyes as he held the knife to his chest. Jess was screaming, little Mary was crying, but then it all went black.

"Sammy, please," Dean begged again. He didn't want to think about what his little brother was seeing, but he couldn't help it. He started to wonder if Sam was happy, if he was safe. Dean wondered his Sam was with Mom and Dad, or with Jess, or with someone else. Dean wondered if Sam was with him or if it had been like his djinn experience, where he and Sam had never gotten close.

But then suddenly, he was pulled from his thoughts by a resounding gasp. Sam was struggling against the bonds holding him up, the green eyes Dean knew so well blearily struggling to open. The pale skin had just the slightest bit of color returning and Sam's breathing was ragged.

"Woah, woah, hey, I got you. I got you, little brother," Dean said. He hurriedly finished detaching the tubes and then getting Sam's wrists free.

"D'n?" Sam muttered.

"Hey, you're alright now. I've got you," Dean said. He finally got Sam free, and his little brother crashed into him, his legs weak and unsupportive. Dean lowered himself and Sam to the floor of the desolate house the Djinn had been using as a feeding center.

Sam was breathing raggedly still and then a few moments passed, and the shuddering breaths were replaced with sobs. Dean just held his brother as he cried. He didn't know what Sam had seen, but if it was anything like his experience, it would've been terrible leaving.

Sam must've cried for almost ten minutes, his arms wrapped around Dean and his head buried in his big brother's chest. Sam hadn't cried and held onto Dean like this in ages. Dean didn't do anything except rest his chin on his brother's head and mutter affirmative words.

Eventually, Sam's sobs slowed and lessened, and he pulled away from Dean.

"'m sorry," he mumbled, wiping his face.

"It's okay," Dean said. "I remember what it was like, I get it."

Sam nodded. "How long was I out?" he asked, not making eye contact with Dean.

"I found you about thirty minutes ago. Spent a few hours searching. How long did it feel like to you?"

"'Bout a week," Sam replied.

"Well, c'mon," Dean said. "You ready to get back to the motel? Figure out how to kill this thing?"

Sam nodded as Dean helped him up shakily.

After killing the Djinn, Sam and Dean headed back to the Bunker. The hunt had been in Iowa, near Davenport, so it was about a seven hour drive back home. Nothing the boys hadn't tackled before in a day. They set off in the morning, planning to be home by dinner.

Sam had been pretty quiet since he'd come out of the coma or whatever you wanted to call it. Dean understood though and didn't press Sam. Dean hadn't wanted to open up about his experience at first either.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam said quietly after about an hour in the car.

"Yeah?" Dean replied, glancing over to him.

"You know how when you got caught by the djinn, you said that it had granted your wish, which was for Mom to be alive?"

Dean nodded.

"Mine was… my wish was for Jess to be alive." Sam took a deep breath. "But because Jess lived… I never got back into the life and…" he trailed off.

"And you and I never started hunting together again," Dean finished for him quietly.

Sam nodded. "Jess and I had a kid," he said quietly, trying to keep from choking up. "A little girl. It was almost her seventh birthday."

Dean silently blew out a breath. "What was her name?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet and gentle.

"Mary," Sam whispered. He rubbed his eyes and looked out the window. Dean pointedly kept his gaze ahead so he wouldn't see the reflection of his brother's face in the car window.

"Her name was Mary," Sam continued. "And she had blonde hair and blue eyes, and she was so happy. And Jess… she was perfect."

Dean couldn't help but tear up slightly. He may have only met Jessica once, but he could see a mile away how much she'd meant to Sam. Even more so when Sam confided in him, albeit after some hunt when they'd been getting drunk, that he'd talked to Jessica's parents, and had gotten her grandmother's wedding ring to propose to her with.

Dean discreetly wiped his eyes, still keeping his gaze on the road ahead. "Why'd you come back?" he asked, still in that quiet and gentle tone.

"You," Sam muttered. "You were dead. And so was everyone else we'd saved. Plus, we all know what you'd do without me to keep you in line," he said, forcing a small chuckle.

Dean smiled tightly. "You know if you had stayed," he began, "I wouldn't have been mad at you. I would've understood."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I know that," he said thickly. "But I also know what that would've done to you. And anyways, it wasn't real, was it?"

Dean didn't speak.

"I wanted to stay," Sam continued. "For a few days anyways. But then I started noticing just how different things were in my life. I mean, yeah, I had — I had Jess, but… I didn't have you or — or Cas or Jack." Sam didn't speak again for about ten minutes.

Dean didn't say anything either. He knew there was more Sam wanted to say, so he was just giving him the time and space to figure out how to say it.

"I'm sorry I've been so — so…" Sam started, but Dean was already shaking his head.

"Don't you apologize, okay? Don't. I understand. I've had lots of times when you've had to help me up. Hell, just a few months ago I was killing myself without a second thought 'cause it seemed like we'd lost everything. I was so lost in grief and anger that I couldn't even see that I still had my little brother. But you helped me with that."

"I didn't bring Cas back," Sam said pointedly. "That's what really helped you."

"Don't sell yourself short, Sammy," Dean said with another shake of his head. "Sometimes I don't think you remember how important you are to me." Dean cleared his throat after a second and then forced a laugh. "Now, according to you I never said that," he said with a smile. "Can't have you thinking too much of yourself now."

Sam smiled, even if it didn't entirely reach his eyes. "Yeah, well… still. I'll try to be better for you."

"Just take your time, okay?" Dean said. "I'll be here to get you through and take care of my pain-in-the-ass little brother."

Sam smiled again, and this time it did reach his eyes. "You're such a jerk," he said with a light laugh.

"Yeah and you're a bitch," Dean replied easily.

After that they settled into a more comfortable silence. Dean knew that there would more turmoil to come over these next few days, especially regarding what Sam had seen. But for now, he'd take care of Sam and give him his time, and when he was ready, he'd listen. Just like always.