(Then

(("Who're you?" Sam asked, his words coming out in short gasps.

The man's eyes turned coal black and Sam felt his body growing weaker as his eyelids started to droop and his vision started blurring.

"Sleep now, Sam," the man with the coal black eyes told him as he placed a hand to Sam's temple and everything in his world went black.))

(Now)

"Sam we've been through this. Dean is dead..."

Sam woke up, the words echoing in his mind. Had he dreamed that whole exchange? Was he back in that ratty motel room, dirty clothes and half eaten sandwiches strung about the room?

He sat up, the dizzy feeling in his head not really going away. He was in a room, dark and ratty but certainly not the motel room he remembered. It was a hospital room. Sam swung his legs over the side of the bed squinting in confusion. This must all be really happening, but if so, how?

Feet touching the floor, Sam tested out his legs and when he knew they were fully functioning he walked towards the door giving it a hard tug. Nothing. It was locked from the outside and Sam was pretty sure that it wasn't going to give. It was one of those steel doors that only opened with voice activation, a lock of hair, and maybe even a toenail.

Sam was frustrated enough, but the silence was what was really getting on his nerves. Usually, he craved the silence, over Dean's incessant chattering and the obnoxiously loud music blaring in a space too small to think. But this was just downright creepy.

All that he needed to do was think, wrap his mind around what was going on, what could be happening... But in order to do that he needed to actually remember something. He remembered what they'd done to him earlier, held him down while they drugged him with something. That was pretty effective seeing as he felt as if he'd been asleep for a month.

They'd said something about delusions... alternate realities? No Dean? That couldn't be right, Sam had to have heard wrong. Or that demon was screwing with his head. It had to be the doctor, that's all Sam could think. Why else would he have had such a strong sense of, "hey that guy's evil, grab the holy water and let's send him to hell" when he saw him.

That was his story and he was sticking with it, the demon had done this to him, and wherever he was, finding and killing the demon was the key to getting away... That is if he ever managed to get the door unlocked.

He was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a click and a small buzzing sound and he looked up. A pretty nurse entered the room, dark hair falling in ringlets around her shoulders. She smiled at him warily, her dark skin crinkling around her eyes.

"Karen?" Sam asked, remembering the face from the hospital he'd visisted earlier... whatever day that had been.

"Hello Mr. Winchester, I see you're feeling a little more aware today?" she said, her voice sounding cheerful, yet Sam could sense an underlying fear there as well, "Yesterday you didn't remember who I was."

Sam opened his mouth and furrowed his eyebrows. Karen had left the door open slightly and Sam knew that this was his chance if he played along long enough.

He put on his best confused and lost look and hesitated a second, "Where am I, Karen?"

"Greenview County Asylum, Sam, same as yesterday," she replied patiently, and while her back was turned as she tended to the sheets on the bed, Sam took a couple small steps towards the door.

The word asylum buzzed around in his head. So he was oficially insane. Well, he'd been called worse. It wasn't as if any of this was real... at least he didn't think so.

"And... where's my brother?"

Karen smiled and looked over to him, and Sam stopped his advancement, pretending to be entirely too interested in the tiling on the ceiling. "Sam... Dean is gone," she said, "You know that, too."

Sam nodded, "Oh, right... How?"

Karen opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again. "Not today, Sam," she replied, "We're not gonna do this today."

She turned back to the bed, smoothing down the sheets and Sam took a couple more quiet steps towards the door. He found it odd, Karen's blunt refusal to answer the question, but he didn't speak anymore as Karen was almost finished. He knew that if he was going to make a break for it, that now was his chance.

He made a beeline towards the door, cutting his arm along the metal frame in his haste and ran. He didn't know exactly where he was running to, but at this point a door that led to outside was good enough for him. He would even settle for a door that led to a parking garage... or his own demention, that would be nice.

All at once, an alarm sounded, he heard locks clicking into place and a hoard of men in hospital staff suits came rushing towards him. That was something he hadn't quite been counting on but he could work with it. He was a hunter, raised and trained by a U.S. marine and he was fast. His long legs which used to be a hindrace when he was always tripping all over them, were now beneficial that he'd gotten used to them over the past ten years.

If he could just keep running, towards the door that he now saw, he'd be okay. It was like a great beacon and his legs refused to stop moving, even as the rest of him was tiring.

Just a litte further, Sam coaxed himself, picking up speed, You're almost there. Come on.

And then all at once his beacon faded, now it was more like a dull lightbulb in need of a changing. A man stepped out, the same man who'd injected him with that shot before blocked his path, and Sam's momentum sent him barreling into the man, effectively stopping him in his course towards freedom.

The others used those precious seconds to catch up and all of them grabbed a hold of him at once. Sam struggled to break free of their grips, jabbing one of them with his elbow in the tender flesh of his stomach.

The man doubled over in pain, clutching the now bruised area and Sam used that free fist to catch the one holding his left arm in the jaw, following up with another, and a swift kick to the one he'd elbowed before, as he'd begun to recover. The man stumbled back and another came and grabbed him from behind, pulling both of his arms back behind him. Sam used that to his advantage, swinging both legs up and kicking Demonic Doctor, as he so fondly called him, square in the chest, knocking the man away from him.

He used his honed strength to wrench free of the man holding him, when all at once he felt a sharp prick in the side of his neck.

A realization set in and he growled, a slightly more childish side of him wanting to scream, "Cheaters!"

His energy started to drain almost immediately, and he slumped to the floor, one man grabbing him by his right arm and the other by his left.

The doctor was picking himself up off the floor and Sam watched it all happen through muddled hearing and blurred vision. Dr. Whitticker, no, Demonic Doctor walked towards him, kneeling down to Sam's level, as he was slumped over in the arms of the two men holding him up.

"Come on Sam, I think that's enough excitement for one day," he said, and Sam looked at him square in the eyes as both of them flickered coal black and his soft smile was replaced with a self satisfied smirk. Just as quickly as it happened though, it was gone, and one who didn't know any better would say that it had been a trick of the drugs. "Let's get you back to your room," he said gently.

But Sam knew better, and all he could think as he slumped, once again back into unconsciousness was, So close.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The smell of hot, hopefully fresh, and greasy fastfood hung heavy in the air as the Impala pulled back into the motel parking lot with one last final rumble. He grabbed the bag that was currently occupying Sam's usual seat and made his way back to their room.

As soon as he unlocked the door and the room was compeltely silent, his instincts kicked in and he knew there was something wrong. There should have been the sound of breathing, or Sam clicking away at his laptop, or the shower, or something. But it was deadly silent.

That's when Dean saw the still form of his brother on the floor inbetween the bed and the desk. Dropping the forgotten bag of fastfood, Dean rushed over and kneeled down to the floor to see if his brother was breathing. He was, that was a good sign and Dean hit him a few times on the shoulder, trying to wake him.

"Sam? Sammy come on, wake up," Dean said, trying to keep his voice from sounding panicked, "Come on dude, the floor is no place for a nap... Sam?"

Dean took to shaking him, knowing that it probably wasn't the smartest move if Sam was injured in any way, but he was starting to run out of ideas when Sam remained unresponsive.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, hoping for some kind of response, "SAM!"

That's when Dean grabbed the nearest cell phone, he didn't know whether it was his or Sam's, and called 911. They were wanted by the police for murder, credit card fraud, and anything else that you could possibly think of. The hospital was bound to be crawling with cops, especially with all of the mysterious coma victims... and that's when Dean resolved himself to the fact that the same thing must be happening to Sam. Sam had turned into another nameless coma victim. And that's when the panic oficially set in. The usual Winchester policy as of late? No hospitals. Period. But this was an emergency, Sam wasn't moving, wasn't responding, wasn't waking up.

Dean had lost everybody he'd ever had... yes everybody, at least at one point or another. He'd traded his soul to hang on to his last remaining family member. But now if something happened, well, he had nothing left to trade.

Well that's it for now, hope you enjoyed it, and if you read please review! Constructive criticism would be appreciated )