Author's Note:

Your support has been amazing, guys! This isn't the first time I've tackled this subject matter with the boys, but I think is the best I've done out of the three or four attempts I've done. You guys are still saying I'm making you cry, which I'm taking as a huge compliment, so thank you!

Thanks to aliengirlguy, Katlover98, Rose0, SnarryMoreidLover, ToxicTenshi, SPN Mum, yuffb, and Acidspades for their reviews on chapter 7!

Chapter 8 - Enter Sandman

Castiel had moved forward and scooped Sam effortlessly into his arms before Dean had time to react, pushing past him out of the bathroom and moving to the bed to lay Sam gently down. The younger Winchester was still deathly pale, but the gaping wounds in his arms and knit themselves back together, and he was breathing.

"What's going on?" Dean asked, only a beat behind Castiel as he moved to stand on the other side of the bed, taking in Sam's too still form as he did so.

"Lucifer must have been able to resurrect him after all." Castiel mused, arranging the pillows to ensure Sam's comfort. There was little he could do, but it seemed a good plan to ensure Sam wouldn't wake up with a neck crick. Because he would wake up. It was too awful to consider any other outcome.

Dean made a sort of choking noise, then asked weakly, "Is it wrong if I'm grateful?" Feeling gratitude towards Lucifer for anything seemed completely wrong, but Dean couldn't find it in him to be anything but thankful for Sam's healing.

Glancing up, Castiel shook his head. "It is a complicated situation. I am unspeakably indebted to my brother for this." Castiel was conflicted on that front. He didn't want to consider that he might owe anything to Lucifer, but he couldn't deny that he was overwhelming grateful to his brother for saving Sam.

Dean didn't comment on that, instead focusing on the skin that was no longer torn open by a knife wound. For the first time, he noticed the smaller scar lines that ran across his brother's arms, mostly up and down his biceps and the crease of his elbow. They littered both arms liberally. Horrified, Dean gently held out Sam's right arm, showing it to Castiel on the other side of the bed. "What the hell is this?" He asked, panic barely suppressed in his voice.

Castiel looked unbearably sad, but not surprised. "It may have helped handle Lucifer's consistent harassment," he offered as an explanation. "He did not say so, but I would theorize that Sam's inherent psychic abilities would make him vulnerable to Lucifer's advances while awake as well. He likely turned to pain as a grounding force, to give himself some control over the attacks."

"God," Dean moaned, setting Sam's arm back down gently and sitting down beside his brother heavily. "Is he trapped with Lucifer right now? Is that why he won't wake up?" He felt smacked upside the head by his own blindness again, and he sincerely hoped Sam would wake up so Dean could start apologizing. Sam had apologized enough. It was Dean's turn to start making amends.

"Probably," Castiel admitted. He carefully smoothed Sam's hair away from his face, enjoying the satisfaction he gleaned from that simple action. The feeling was quickly chased away by the reality that Sam wasn't present to share the moment with him.

"How do we fix it? You said you kicked Lucifer out of his head last night, right?" Dean asked desperately. He didn't really understand what Castiel had done in Sam's dreams, and it hadn't been the most important thing to ask about at the time.

Castiel looked pained. "No, I offered what remained of my grace to Sam as a support system so he could eject Lucifer from his own mind. Even then, I am not sure if Sam forced Lucifer out or if he decided to stop arguing and just leave."

Dean wilted slightly, looking far more helpless than Castiel had ever seen him. "So what the hell do we do?"

"Sam is strong," Castiel said firmly. "Far stronger than he is given credit for. This is our chance to show faith in him, as he has shown faith in us."

Dean wasn't entirely sure how to process that. After a moment, he reached forward to gently pull his amulet off of Sam's neck. At Castiel's questioning look, he said fiercely, "He's going to wake up, and the first time he sees me I want to be able to fix this."

Nodding in agreement, Castiel watched as Dean replaced his amulet, feeling pleased at all the gesture implied. "We may be able to get through to him," he thought out loud.

"They say coma patients can hear when they're being talked to," Dean added eagerly. "Maybe we can help him fight off Lucifer." He could remember other times he and Sam had talked to each other when the other had been unconscious for some reason. Somehow, it always seemed to help.

"That is my hope," Castiel agreed. He gently laid a hand on Sam's shoulder, leaning forward. "Sam, can you hear me? You are alive, but you are trapped in your mind. Come back to us."

Other than what looked like movement behind Sam's eyelids, nothing changed. He was still too pale, and only the faintest of movements in his chest made it appear as though he was breathing.

"C'mon, little brother," Dean urged, his hand resting on Sam's forearm. "Come back to us." He took a deep breath and prayed. Not to God, not even to anyone specific, but just prayed, hoping that somehow, Sam would have the strength to fight off the Devil.

Sam was sitting in a motel arm chair, doing his best to ignore the man in front of him. He knew it wasn't real. The room looked just like any other he and Dean would have stayed at, but it wasn't real. Lucifer had trapped him in his own mind. It wasn't real. The smells, the feeling, the noise, all of it was just like it should be, like the real world. It wasn't real.

"Dammit, Sam, we can't just run around fixing your mistakes until we're old and gray," Dean huffed at him. "It's exhausting. Just say yes to Lucifer and this'll be over. I won't have to deal with you, and you won't have to worry about all your crippling guilt."

The worst part was how rational it all sounded. Sam shook his head, knowing what happened next. Lucifer had taken to switching back and forth between Dean and Castiel, depending on which emotional tactic he had chosen to exploit.

"Sam," Castiel sighed, disappointed. "You need to give in. Lucifer is the most beautiful of all the angels. He can make everything easier on you, and you won't have to be in pain any longer. Don't you want that?"

God help him, he did want that. It was the most tempting thing about Lucifer's offer, the potential for a complete absence of his own consciousness.

"Sam, can you hear me? You are alive, but you are trapped in your mind. Come back to us." Castiel's voice was soothing with an overlay of urgency.

Confused, Sam looked up. Had Castiel somehow entered his mind again? He hadn't had the impression Castiel was strong enough to make a habit of that. Sure enough, there was only one Castiel in front of him, but he hadn't said anything additional.

"C'mon little brother, come back to us," Dean's voice urged next.

Sam wasn't an idiot. He was only confused for a few minutes before the sudden realization came to him. Dean and Castiel had found him. They were with him in the real world, trying to get him out of the mental prison Lucifer had him in.

"You are imagining things, Sam," Castiel told him sadly. "No one is coming for you. You need to end this, now."

Sam wished he had the strength to push away Lucifer's illusions, but without Castiel's grace supporting him, he didn't think he had a chance. He needed to wake up though. If Castiel and Dean were in the cabin with his body, that meant they weren't out trying to stop Lucifer like they were supposed to. Sam knew they were stubborn, so he expected that they weren't likely to move until they got him to wake up. The problem was, he wasn't sure he could.

Sighing, now that Sam was distracted and not focusing on his illusions, Lucifer reappeared and scowled at him. "You know that the only real motivation you can give them is saying yes," he pointed out. "Otherwise, they'll just stay tied down to you."

That made sense, but Sam shook his head vehemently and glared at the archangel. "No," he bit out. "Get the hell out of my head."

"That's not going to work," Lucifer chided him, almost amused.

"Sam, you're strong. Stronger than I ever gave you credit for. I know you can do this. Kick the Devil's shiny ass out and wake the hell up!" Dean's voice again, more urgent now.

Sam was almost tempted to laugh at his brother's words. Instead, he took them to heart and focused hard. Part of the reason Lucifer had such access to his mind, even during the day, was because of his predilection for psychic activity. Surely that had to go both ways. If Lucifer could use that ability as a channel, shouldn't Sam be able to use it as a weapon?

"Sam," Lucifer said in warning. "Do not test me."

Sam ignored him, closing his eyes and searching for the part of himself he'd always gone to to draw power while under Ruby's thrall. It was different, without the taint of the demon blood guiding him, but it was still there. His natural ability was vastly different from that he'd been provided with through the blood, but at least he still had it. Taking a deep breath, Sam gripped at the power with all his might and allowed it to strengthen him, shoving out at Lucifer's presence with all his might.

Lucifer visibly stumbled, shock clear on his face, though he schooled it quickly. "No parlor tricks, Sam," Lucifer chastised.

Sam felt the surprise of his minor success flood him with confidence, and he quickly pushed at Lucifer again. "Get. The. Hell. Out!" He shouted.

"NO!" Lucifer yelled back, stepping forward. "You will say yes to me, Sam Winchester!"

Castiel interrupted again, his voice firm and supportive. "No one has more faith than you, Sam, and you can defeat Lucifer. I have faith in you."

"I believe in you too," Dean added immediately.

Taking courage and strength from the words, no matter how surprising they were, Sam pulled himself up and hissed his next words at the Devil. "No, I won't. Really, you think the way to win my allegiance is to lock me inside my own head, where I can fight against you with my inherent psychic abilities?" Giving a dry chuckle, Sam added dryly, "Face it. It's in your best interest to let me wake up. If you want to wear me down, you're going to have to find some new tricks."

After a moment, Lucifer slowly straightened up and nodded. "Very well," he agreed. "I'm nothing if not pragmatic, Sam. If you want to take back your mind, I'll simply have to find a new battleground. You will say yes. It is your destiny."

"Not here, and not today," Sam said firmly.

Lucifer nodded once in a farewell, then vanished, leaving Sam alone in the fake motel room construct Lucifer had stuck him in. He closed his eyes again and took a deep breath.

Then, Sam slowly opened his eyes.