AN: Originally, I did plan on wrapping up this story in three chapters, but after reading all of your reviews I decided that this story deserves more exploration and importance, so this isn't quite over yet. This will end up being just mildly AU, only in the sense of how Sam ends up in the institution he was in during the episode Born Again Identity. Oh, and the story title was inspired from a lyric from the Skillet song, Hero. This chapter will be taking place from Dean's point of view to explain where he'd been when Sam nearly killed himself.

It was a miracle. Dean had woken up before Sam, which meant he was actually sleeping for once. Seemingly peacefully too. Dean didn't plan on taking this blessed moment away from Sam, so he arose from his bed as quietly as he could. He figured Sam could use all the sleep he could get, but in the meantime Dean would go to pick up some food. He took the time to write Sam a note in case he woke up before Dean got back.

Having finished the note, Dean hopped into the wretched car he was being forced to drive. Damn, he missed his baby. He took his time trying to hunt down the best place to get Sam and himself some lunch. He usually had a good instinct about those kinds of things. He eventually passed a quaint looking diner, and the "homemade pie" sign sealed the deal. He ordered himself a burger, and then some salad with some really complicated name for Sam. He'd gotten one with some meat in it since the kid looked like he was losing weight right along with sleep.

Dean patiently waited for the food to be prepared, and he also purchased one of the pies for later. Mission complete, Dean got back in that horrible car that he so greatly abhorred. The glorious scent of grease permeated through the car and Dean's nose, making Dean all the more eager to get back to the room and dig into his food.

The motel was at last in his sight, and he pulled into the lot. Once he reached the door he opened it slowly in case Sam was still sleeping. When he saw the empty bed and no Sam in the rest of the room his heart did briefly stop, but then he saw the light on in the bathroom through the crack under the door.

"Grabbed us some food." Dean announced as he set the bag on the table.

Normally, Sam would utter a, "thank you," or a, "be right out." But Dean didn't get either of those this time.

"Sam?" Dean tried again.

Nothing.

Worry beginning to skyrocket once more, Dean hurried to the door, not at all surprised to discover that it was locked, but it still astronomically increased his panic. He started rattling the knob.

"Sam!"

Silence. Not the silence, anything but the silence. The silence meant that Sam wouldn't, or couldn't tell him something.

"Let me in, Sammy!"

That's when Dean heard it. The faintest sound, but it wasn't his little brother's voice like he had been hoping for. It was equally as familiar, but not in a good way. He'd heard that sound before, but not just on Earth, in Hell as well. Dean felt his stomach tighten when what it was dawned on him.

Carving.

"SAM!"

Then Dean heard the crash, and it definitely wasn't someone dropping a toothbrush off the counter. It was a body falling.

Immediately throwing every other thought other than "Save Sammy" out the window, Dean slammed his shoulder against the door, which promptly splintered, and Dean rushed to his now fallen brother's side. He didn't let himself think about how the long stripes running down Sammy's arm were undeniably self-inflicted. He could deal with that once he got Sam conscious once again.

"Hey, c'mon, buddy, wake up." Dean ordered in a whisper as he harshly patted Sam's face in hopes of rousing him. He quickly ripped off the sleeves of his own shirt and started tying them around the still gushing wounds. If Dean didn't keep moving, he was going to lose himself as well as his brother. He then checked for a pulse, heart sinking to his feet when he felt it gradually slowing every second.

"Sammy, don't you dare do this to me!" Dean couldn't help his voice from breaking that time. He saw Sam's eyes briefly move beneath their lids, and he felt his hope starting to return.

"You did this cuz you think it makes Lucifer go away, right? Helps let you know what's real? Let me tell you, Sam, I really wish I wasn't real right now, cuz then I wouldn't be hurting so damn much. But I am, because you are my brother, and you are all I've got left. So you better open your eyes, or else I'm coming for you in the after-life and kicking your ass all the way back down here if I have to." Dean knew he was crying now, but he didn't care. "Sammy, please, look at me."

Sam's eyelids fluttered once more, and then- thank God or whoever the hell was left to care- Sam opened his eyes.

"D-D'n?" He muttered, still clearly out of it.

Dean dropped his head in relief, wiping his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, it's me. Alright, you're gonna hate me for this, but I've gotta get you to the hospital."

"N-nooo…" Sam moaned, turning his head away and starting to close his eyes again.

"You didn't give me much of a choice, Sammy." Dean said as he hauled Sam to his feet, wincing at Sam's pained cry at the abrupt movement.

"No, he-he'll find me!" Sam panicked, thrashing desperately, albeit weakly. Dean worried for his wounds as Sam writhed, praying that he wasn't going to make things worse.

"He's not gonna find you because he isn't real!" Dean shouted. He wasn't sure that Sam was going to listen otherwise. "I know you're scared, I know that every damn day you're scared that he's gonna somehow take you away from me. But he'd have to pull you from my cold, dead hands because I am not letting you go. I am willing to do whatever the hell it takes to keep you safe, so don't you even think about checking out on me. I will fight Heaven and Hell and everything in between to protect you, but I can't keep fighting if you're not gonna fight with me." The tears were freely flowing at this point. "That's all I need you to do. You have to fight to live, you have to want to live. Please. Even if you can't fight for yourself right now, fight for me. I-I need you, little brother."

Sam's glassy eyes met Dean's tear filled ones, guilt gleaming within them as well. Words were still beyond Sam at this point, but he gathered the strength to nod. Fight for himself? Maybe. Fight for the world. More likely. But fight for Dean?

Always.

Being in the hospital was uncomfortable. Once Sam had been stitched up by professionals, and was conscious again, he was hounded with questions like, "when did this all begin," "why was he hurting himself," "was he actively trying to end his life?" For once, Sam was inclined to be truthful. He'd love if these guys could give him something to make him stop.But deep down he knew that if he started babbling about how Satan himself was constantly screaming at him that he'd be admitted somewhere he'd likely never be able to get out of. Or worse, somewhere where they wouldn't let him see Dean.

So he did what Winchesters did best. He lied. He lied about why he'd been hurting himself, and when it had started, but he was honest about how he wasn't trying to kill himself. He'd been in hospitals enough times to know exactly what the doctors wanted to hear in order to let him go.

Unfortunately, they didn't seem to buy it. He could get away with lying about the fast recovery of a broken leg just fine, because an exaggeration about that wouldn't leave his well-being and life on the doctors' consciences. So regardless of what he told them, they seemed bent on keeping him for observations. But with their faces currently on the most wanted list, the Winchesters knew how dangerous it would be for them to stay in one place for too long.

So they broke out. Dean whisked away his broken brother, physical wounds healing, but the mental scars were the ones that warranted Dean's attention. They'd gone back to the motel and quickly paced up all traces of their presence and went back to the car, driving far away from those memories.

"How you doing, Sam?" Dean asked. He watched Sam's face scrunch a bit as he pondered the answer. Dean felt relief at the fact that Sam was truly thinking over his response, rather than spouting out the classic yet empty, "I'm fine."

"Better." Sam said after quite a lot of thought. "Think all the drugs are still in my system, so I'm feeling pretty good right now." He added lightheartedly.

"What about Lucifer?"

Sam paused again, because despite all the drugs pumping through his veins, Lucifer was currently stretched out in the back seat, kicking Sam's chair and singing You Are My Sunshine.

"He's still there." Sam admitted. "But I know that he's not real." He couldn't help but flinch when Lucifer started belting out the rest of the verses.

"Think it's gonna stay that way?" Dean asked hopefully.

"Yeah." Sam answered truthfully. "I realised that pain isn't what grounds me anymore."

"What is?"

Even as the Devil wailed out the chorus for the ninth time in five minutes, Sam managed to smile.

"You are, Dean. Even in the Cage, Lucifer could never get you right. He'd pretend to be mom, dad, Jess, Bobby, everyone we've ever met. But whenever he tried to be you- he couldn't do it. He could never pretend to care about me like you do."

"Stone number one, Sammy." Dean agreed, clapping a caring hand on Sam's shoulder. "If Lucifer starts acting up again and you can't tell what's real or not, you talk to me. I don't care if it's three in the morning, or if I've got a machete halfway through a vamp's neck, you say my name and I will be there for you. I thought I lost you to Lucifer once, and I am never letting that happen again."

Sam smiled, truly believing that he would be getting better soon.

"Wishful thinking there, bunk-buddy." Lucifer said. At least he'd stopped singing. "What are you gonna do to banish me now?"

"No matter what happens, I'm gonna always keep fighting." Sam said to both Lucifer and Dean. He then spoke only to his brother. "Cuz you helped me beat the Devil before, so I know we can do it again."

"You're such a girl, Sam." Lucifer huffed, resuming his assault on Sam's chair, this time with a relentless banging of his hands to the tune of Smoke on the Water.

Sam closed his eyes. "Stone number one. Dean is real, which means that Lucifer isn't. Stone number one, stone number one."

The song suddenly stopped, and Sam stiffened when he felt icy hands clamp onto his shoulders, and Lucifer hissed in his ear.

"So my plan to get you to off yourself didn't work. Doesn't matter. There are other ways to kill you. Grant it, maybe not as fun ways, but still." Sam could practically feel the hatred in Lucifer's voice. "You thought spending every damn second of sleep with me was bad? Then I will grant you a reprieve. No more nightmares, no more dreams of any kind." He squeezed Sam's shoulders together even harder. "Because I am never going to let you close your eyes agin." The chilling tone vanished, and Lucifer giggled. "Better get used to me being here, Sammy. Cuz you're stuck with me until the day you die. And according to sleep studies, that should be in about-" He checked his non-existent watch. "Two weeks." He went so far as to kiss Sam's cheek, but Sam was too paralysed with fear to pull away.

Maybe this wasn't going to be an easy fix after all…

AN: Not sure how much longer I plan to make this. I'm hoping I won't be too long before I update again, but I wasn't planning on expanding this fic, so I'm still going to have to work out exactly where I'm taking this. I've got the rough idea for the ending sketched out in my head, I just need to get there. And I did force myself to pump out enough of next chapter in order to give y'all a-

Sneak Peek: "But what would Dean be able to do about the mental pain? Nothing, so Sam saw no reason to tell him about it."

Again, I love hearing from you guys about this story, you have inspired me in a lot of ways for this fic. I shall see you all again soon.