A/N: As some readers may have spotted, the last chapters of this story were not very well written or put together. These replacement chapters take the story in a different direction, and I hope that they fit together better than the previous.
Two weeks later
Bethlam Royal Hospital
South London
He woke up. His head hurt and he raised a hand to his forehead and rubbed at his eyes. There was white all around him. Nothing but white. The ceiling was white, the walls were white and the floor was white.
He closed his eyes and opened them again. It was all still there, the white, the little grilled window in the door, and the mellow lighting. All still there.
The door opened. No faces, only white.
"Good morning, Samuel." Perky voice. Made his head hurt all over again. "Time for your medicine."
Words. Making no sense. Just sounds strung together. His eyes were heavy; he just wanted everyone to go away and leave him alone.
"Go 'way." He mumbled. God, was that his voice? He'd forgotten what he sounded like.
"I will in a minute." Female. Was it female? "Just a little pinprick." Her hand was on his arm, and then he was gone again.
He dreamed. Saw things.
Didn't care.
People died.
He didn't blink.
They cried out for someone, anyone.
He ignored them.
Why didn't they stop? Why didn't the voices just stop? Go scream at someone else.
Peace.
He wanted it to stop.
Emily Killarney was a good girl from Edinburgh. As a student she studied psychology and mental health and became a licensed counsellor. At twenty-seven she managed to gain a transfer out of Scotland to a more prestigious hospital in England. Bethlam Royal Hospital. Though most people knew it by its unpopular nickname.
Bedlam.
She was thirty when she was assigned to a new patient. The one that had the other doctors talking. The one that the other patients would stare at when he passed them in the corridors. Samuel Winchester.
Age unknown. Place of residence unknown. Family unknown. The only reason they had his name was because of the identification in his wallet. The wallet Emily had been allowed to examine when she joined the team. There had been three different identifications inside. The one for Samuel Winchester was the only one they'd gotten a positive reaction on when they tested him.
It may have not been his real name at all. Emily would not have been surprised. But having a patient that reacted to outside stimuli was something. The first time she met him face to face he seemed like quite a pleasant person. He had said hello, asked how her day had been, how many others she'd seen before him.
It was almost hard to believe he was insane.
And then the talk of demons began; at night when he was shut away with whatever broken images were in his mind. He was hunting and being hunted, hurt, lost confused. They were coming for him, and would tear him apart. He called for people in the darkness, screamed for them.
Mom, Dad, Dean, Jess, Sarah, Madison, Jo, and many others. All those people, but when you asked him about it the next day, his eyes were blank. He didn't even realise what he was doing.
The doctors pressed him for answers, wanting to turn him into Bethlam's prize patient, perhaps even redefining what it meant to be insane. There was talk of writing papers, making Samuel an example.
An example of what was never really explained to her. They pressed him, and pressed him.
Until one day he finally lashed out.
It took four guards to subdue him. One doctor was unconscious and the other was cringing away as far from the other man as possible. Samuel got in more good shots than anyone would have expected, and so they began to sedate him.
But he never attacked Emily. No matter what mood, or what time.
Once he had asked her to sit with him for a while. Always a danger with female doctor/male patient, but she had begun to trust him, something she had never done by a rukle with any of her other patients. So she did, waving a signal to the guard on the door.
He didn't say anything for a long while, just sat with his chin on his knees. He could have actually been quite good-looking once, underneath all that facial hair, but the doctors never trusted a patient with a razor.
"You're not from here." His talking voice was different from his screaming voice, calm and warm and welcoming.
Emily patted her bouncy orange curls. "Is it that obvious?"
"Scottish?"
"From Edinburgh."
"What's your name?"
"Doctor Killarney." She said. "Emily."
"Hi, Emily. I'm Sam."
"I know."
"I know you know." He lent in, eyes wide. "But you don't really. Not at all."
"Why don't you tell me?" But Emily wasn't so sure he heard her.
"Tell me I'm crazy." He whispered. "I'd rather be crazy than it being true."
"What being true?"
"The demons." He began to rock back and forth. "All the creatures in the night, out for blood. I see things, so many terrible things. The screaming in my head, it never stops. It only gets louder. Tell me I'm crazy. Please."
He looked so distraught that Emily automatically reached forward to touch his shoulder. But as soon as her fingers made contact with his flesh, he flinched away. She had seen the scars when he was brought in, so she retreated, holding up her hands so he could see them.
Something awful had happened to this man, which had driven him into the world of darkness and demons and eternal suffering.
He looked so scared, but Emily could see her supervisor signalling her to continue. "Samuel." He gazed up at her with big, dark, haunted eyes that would have been enchanting in any other time. Before the asylum.
"Tell me."
"What?"
"Tell me about yourself."
"Why?"
"Because I'm interested."
"In what?"
"Tell me about your family. Your friends."
Samuel frowned. "Mom and Dad… they're dead."
Emily was silent. "My brother looked after me. He practically raised me. I don't know where he went."
"That's good. What was your brother's name?"
"His name is Dean."
"Dean Winchester?"
"Yes."
Emily glanced down at the clipboard in her hands, making a small note. "Do you want to tell me… who's Jess? And Madison?"
For a moment he looked like he was going to clam up again. "They died." He spat. "Died because I couldn't save them." He turned his face to the wall. "I don't want to answer anymore questions."
"Okay." Emily stood. "Enough for now. I'll see you later."
Her supervisor called her into his office. There were three other doctors in the room, plus another man in a dark suit and a woman dressed in army greens. Emily nodded and smiled at each of her superiors.
"This is Doctor Killarney." Doctor Smith introduced. "She is the one I was telling you about. The only one that can safely approach Winchester when he isn't sedated. Emily, this is Special Agent Victor Hendrickson and Captain Sally Wandell of the United States army."
Agent Hendrickson offered her his hand while Captain Wandell nodded curtly. "Nice to meet you." Emily said politely.
"Doctor Killarney." Hendrickson nodded.
"Agent Hendrickson and the Captain are here on behalf of the FBI."
"The Federal Bureau of Intelligence? In America?" She blinked. "But-"
"We're here concerning a patient of yours." The captain said. "And negotiate transport back to the States."
"And might I say what an unusual patient he is. We have scores of Jesuses, space men, and Wild West cowboys, but this man is quite lucid. Apart from the fact that he has created the delusion that he is solely responsible for hunting down evil."
"Which patient?" Emily asked with a sinking feeling.
"Sam Winchester." Captain Wandell said.
"Why are you asking me?" Emily asked. "Doctor Smith is my immediate superior-"
"Doctor Killarney." Agent Hendrickson interrupted. "We want you to come with us."
"Excuse me?"
"From what we have been briefed on, you are the only person that can safely approach Winchester without fear of retribution." He said solemnly.
"Me? You want me to go to America? With you?"
"And Sam." The captain said. "To hold his hand, in a manner of speaking."
To protect you from him? Emily almost asked. Or to protect him from you?
"But first." Agent Hendrickson said. "We will need you to hand over all documentation and material relevant to the Winchester case. Then we can organise your transport. Preferably ASAP."
"But-"
"Doctor Killarney, believe me when I say that this man is dangerous."
"Forgive me, Agent Hendrickson. But I can't bring myself to accept that."
"Even after that unprovoked attack on two of your superiors last week?"
Emily looked him in the eye. "If you have been informed about that scuffle-" Hendrickson snorted. "Then you have also listened to the recordings, where my patient stated in English that if the doctors continued with that line of questioning, he may become violent. He gave them due warning. It is hardly his fault that they failed to heed his warning."
Agent Hendrickson flashed her a grin, showing way too many teeth. It set her on edge; since it was the smile many patiens wore before they unexpectedly lashed out. "Doctor Killarney." He said. "Emily. I think I'd like to take you out to lunch."