Sam clenched his jaw nervously as he sat in the corner, debating whether to think or drift off into memories. The two voices were arguing within' him again, the voice that wanted to think had become stronger once the memory of Ruby's name had entered his mind.

"We need to figure this out, we can't stay here, and we need to get out."

"No, we don't! You keep saying we do, but what's the point?"

"Dean would have wanted us to carry on."

"Dean tried to kill us."

"Maybe it wasn't Dean…"

"And if it was?"

Sam swallowed hard, trying desperately to push the memory of Dean attempting to murder him away. With that he let the haze return, forgetting all about Ruby and the argument.

xXx

He drifted again. Sometimes he would drift in and out of reality, almost like waking dreams. He didn't really know what was going on, because he wasn't really thinking, just watching with glazed, unfocused eyes.

He didn't know how much time had passed, nurses and doctors had come and gone often, but he hadn't seen the one doctor in a while.

He didn't really care, because nothing mattered anymore. Not being here, not his life and not even the memories of Dean and him. All he wanted to do was fade away, like a shadow at twilight, swallowed by darkness as the sun set and the moon rose.

Sam was staring blankly at the wall when a vision came, the pain much more severe then any other. Pressure built at his temples like his brain was being crushed, fire burned his mind and the searing pain of images slamming into his head made him fall to the floor in agony. This was a different vision, this was many visions in one and Sam could feel the blood beginning to slowly stream from his eyes and nose. That's when Sam started to scream.

A woman with long blonde hair slamming a blade through a man's chin, turning and giving him an all-knowing smile. A disgusting creature with a gaping hole for a mouth and small pricked teeth, grey flesh like that of the dead covered it palely. A brunette with a made up face pointed a gun at him, she fired a searing pain bit at his shoulder. A priest with black eyes looks at him, but Sam fires and makes the corpse flash briefly with lightening before blood spills and the life is lost. A little girl with black hair and a red dress looks at him with sad eyes. Another woman with a cocky grin, sleek dark hair and a little black dress watches him with red eyes before he shoots her. There's that brunette again, spitting up water as two grey men stand before her arguing. One with stringy long hair and cold eyes growls, the other with a short beard and sad eyes begs for forgiveness.

"They were brothers…" Sam thinks quickly, but the visions keep slamming him, and he can't think anymore.

A man with dark skin and sharp fangs chokes him with crazed, bloodshot eyes. Sam can feel his life slipping away before he sees the man's head loll off. Two people, an older couple grin at him with fake smiles, pure evil hidden behind those festive sweaters as a blade glints in the holiday candle light. A woman lies dead on a glass table, her wrists cut vertically, objects of the occult lying all around her. He's in Bobby's house, only it looks different and it's raining upside down, he walks outside but the light is much to bright. He faces a young man he knows is evil, he sees the man's father with a baseball bat and knows it's over for him.

Then something happened to Sam that shook him to the core, made his screams stop as sobs began to rock his body. Because the memory he had pushed away so successfully, had shoved aside and never thought about, crashed into his mind…

Dean being shot. Dean being hit by a car. Dean being crushed by a desk. Dean choking. The terrible thud of Dean falling in the shower. Dean asking if the tacos tasted funny. Dean being electrocuted. Dean getting axed by his own hands. Dean being mauled by a dog.

Heat of the Moment by Asia played over all the memories, killing Sam on the inside because he had heard it so many times the morning his brother died.

Then he saw Dean getting shot, and Sam holding him, the pain in his heart screaming desperately because this time it's different, because this time Dean's gone.

Sam sees a man with hair slicked back and beady eyes, a lopsided grin on his face as he talks to Sam. Sam begs to bring his brother back, to just please bring him back. The man finally gives and with a snap of his fingers, it's Wednesday again.

Sam slowly came from the vision, opening his eyelids that were heavy and sore. He could feel blood slowly dripping off him, drops of crimson liquid falling steadily from his face onto the pure white leather.

He lay there for a while, his mind throbbing with pain and body exhausted from the brutal beating. His breathing was slow, a wheeze coming from his nostrils that were caked with blood.

He faintly heard the door screech open, and the muffled shouts and cries of distress as people scurried around him. He felt the familiar prick of a needle, and this time he thanked God for it...

xXx

Sam awoke in a different room. He was in a bed, strapped down with thick, leather bounds that felt to tight around his wrists and ankles. His feet and hands were beginning to purple and numb, a clammy coldness tingeing them.

He swallowed dryly, his throat raw and bitter. Opening his eyes he only saw bright lights that stung his painful eyes, he blinked slowly trying to adjust to the new room.

"Wakey, wakey Sam. You gave us quiet a scare. Not trying to get out of this wonderful world, now are ya?"

It was the doctor, the voice was crystal clear and almost held concern with the usual sarcasm. Sam looked over, the movement sending pain through his stiff and tired muscles, he saw the doctor sitting beside him.

Ruby.

"What happened to you, Sam? You used to be something, hell, used to be someone! Now you're just this void, I know you're in there…Sam if you don't start to come out of this, I think the visions may kill you."

Sam's eyes widened slightly as it mentioned the visions, shocked he would know about them.

"Yes Sam, I know about them. And apparently they're back with a vengeance, probably because you're ignoring them."

Sam tried to shift away, but the restraints prevented him from moving.

"Sam, you can't keep doing that! You can't keep running from the problem, because it's obviously not going to help! It's going to kill you Sam, unless you get your head back on straight and your ass in gear!" The doctor yelled with frustration, standing to leave.

"Never mind Sam, rot away here, if you're not going to help yourself, I sure as hell am not." He grabbed the door handle, the latch clicked loudly as he began to open it.

"It wasn't Dean." Sam whispered hoarsely, the doctor turning to face him as he spoke.

"What'd you say?" He clicked the door shut.

"It couldn't have been, Dean would never try to kill me…would he?" For the first time since he could remember being in this place he made true eye contact with someone, the doctors eyes narrowed in confusion and curiosity, Sam's lost and glossed over.

"Sam, whatever you think you might of saw, I'm sure Dean would never have tried to kill you." The doctor said, inching closer to Sam, hoping to get more from him.

"Maybe…maybe it was because I let him die all those times. He always died on a Tuesday…always Tuesday. He came back though, he came back…does that mean Dean's alive? No…no, I know he's not. Then if not those times then how…" Sam's voice faded, afraid of evoking the memory of Dean's true death.

"Sam, what is it? What are you talking about?" The doctor asked with frustration.

"It was my fault. I should have saved him…like he saved me." Sam said, tears beginning to shine on his eyes even through his voice refused to change.

"Sam, go to sleep. I'll be back later, after you've had some time to…collect yourself. Maybe then we can talk about…business." With that the doctor rose, giving Sam a look of pity before opening the door and leaving.

"All my fault…"

xXx

Sam went in and out of drug induced sleep. Groggy and confused when he awoke sometimes, he would only slip away again and hope things were clearer the next time so he could think. He needed to think; he needed to figure out these things.

More dreams came, he knew they were visions but they didn't hurt anymore, not compared to the other vision.

A police station and in it a black cloud swirling angrily. Nerdy looking kids with cameras and flashlights, fear in their eyes as a spirit died before them. A thing with long sharp fangs and a distorted face sucking a mist from a poor man, eating his very soul. A doctor with a stitched face, grey flesh and fogged eyes.

Sam's eyes snap open with a gasp, and for once he's wide awake and the world is crystal clear. He's back in his old room, restraints gone and blood cleaned from the floor. It makes him wonder if he really ever left.

He stands, feet shaky from lack of use but they gain strength as he begins the pace. He rolls over all that has happened, completely ignoring the voice that begs him to not think, just remember, it grows weaker as the visions grow stronger.

Sam knows the visions are building up to something. They've become so frequent, so strong and so much clearer that he knows something is coming.

A cold sweat made him shiver; he shook nervously and bit his lip in concern as he pieced the visions together.

He closed his eyes and did something he used to do everyday, something he hasn't done since he held his brothers still warm corpse in his arms. Sam closed his eyes…prayed for mercy.