Ha. Haha. Hahaha.

Don't own it.

Warnings- blood, hallucinations.

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Chapter 8 - Skeletons in the Closet.

Sam.

Sam fell asleep to the sounds of Dean and Castiel's loud argument in the next room along - something about a kid called 'Alfie', and for the first time since he'd met him, Castiel sounded truly angry. It sent a thrill through Sam, made him want to bury his head in the ground. When Castiel was calm, he was only a breeze, but when he was angry, he was a thousand thunderstorms.

But, despite the war of sea and sky that raged through Castiel's voice, it seemed that Dean one the argument; how, Sam had no idea. The green-eyed man stormed in, a spitting flame of wrath, and said 'not now, Cas, I can't tell you about him now! Have some damn perspective!'

Even when the room had finally silenced, and the moon fed itself in threads of silver through the window, Cas's voice still rumbled through his memories with a clap of thunder; and Sam realised, yet again, how dangerous the usually calm man really was.

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The morning that followed was one of the worst of Sam's life.

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Sam sat, slack-jawed, frozen by morbid fascination. After his dream - what he saw, what he did - he'd though waking up would be an escape. He didn't expect Cas and Dean to be replaced with the images of the corpses he had left in his wake in the nightmare.

Everything around Cas, everything he could see and all of his senses, were covered by the thick, cloying fog of the disease. Dean laughed loudly at a comment made by Cas, and a large stream of blood ran from his cheek into his bowl of dried porridge, stolen from a storage crate. Castiel's face was a mangled mass of burnt flesh, a small stream of tears trickling from one eye

OK, that was it, Sam was going to hurl.

He got up and staggered unevenly towards the door, but Cas got up and rushed to his side, catching him just before he hit the ground. Sam took a second to try and breath and stop his head from spinning. He opened his eyes cautiously, expecting the world to be spinning like a top, but he saw clearly and that was so much worse.

Through the elbow of the arm that Sam was clinging to, the bone was protruding as white as chalk.

Sam screamed and threw himself back, scrambling into a corner as he flashed back to when he did that - when he broke that arm. No, he corrected, when he dreamt that he did it. This was not real, not real, not real.

But it felt so, so real. Cas's arm was snapped like a matchstick under his fingers. Dean's neck was a canvas of blood like somebody had given up on painting. It was his fault, he was the monster. He was the savage. He was the animal.

Dean's voice floated from the void around him. "Sammy, buddy, come back to us, okay? You're awake, I'm real, Cas is real, but whatever else you're seeing isn't there. You've got to come back to us, kid. We just want to help."

Sam steeled himself for a minute, then opened his eyes. He blinked away the tears, and when his vision cleared, he saw Cas and Dean, concerned but whole and healthy and alive. Sure Lucifer was there, but it was still an improvement.

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"So, hallucinations?" asked Dean cautiously. Sam nodded slowly. "Still seeing anything?" the man asked nervously. Sam nodded again. "Would- would it help to lie down?" he asked, protectiveness and something much worse coating his voice. Fear.

Sam felt sick again. He got up and pushed between Cas and Dean. "I'll be fine," he rushed out, "I'm just going to camp out in the bathroom with a bucket for a while." He looked back at the men as he walked away and saw their complete lack of reaction as Lucifer laid his hand on Cas' shoulder and said, "I'll look after him Doc." It might have been funny if it wasn't so unnerving.

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The bathroom tiles were cold beneath Sam's feet as he leant against a wall, stomach churning. After a few seconds of silence, Castiel padded almost silently into the room behind him.

"Was your hallucination… A person?" the man asked cautiously.

"Yeah - it's just this kid who used to be my neighbour."

"Was he cruel?"

"Who, Luci? Not really - he just didn't like it when things didn't go his way. Whenever we would play together and I refused to stick to 'his' rules. He'd say 'Say you'll do it my way. Say yes'. Mostly he was just creepy."

Castiel made a small choking noise. "Did- did you say Luci? As in Lucifer?"

"Yeah, why? Do you know him?"

Cas exploded. "What is it with you two and my brothers?!"

"You have a brother called Lucifer?"

"Yes," Castiel said, "but we haven't seen each other for years. Family break."

Sam chanced his luck. "So, this 'Samandriel' guy… He's your younger brother?"

Cas was silent for a second. "Yes. Dean knew him at Outpost 4 and, even if he won't tell me what happened, I think I can guess… and I think you can, too?"

Sam nodded mutely.

There was a moment of silence, and then Castiel chuckled. "Next thing you know, one of you is going to mention Gabriel," he muttered under his breath.

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Oh fuck.

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The door to the bathroom slowly slid shut as Sam saw Cas walk up to Dean to report what he had learned.

"So, family reunion! What about that, Sammy boy?" chimed Lucifer. Sam was dragged unceremoniously from his fond memories into the real world (technically real world adjacent, but the line was blurring more everyday). Sam sometimes had a hard time keeping up. "Who would have thought it? My best bud and my half brother!" exclaimed Lucifer with a mellow laugh.

Every muscle in Sam's body tensed. Cas hadn't said half brother.

He couldn't have known that. Except he didn't know it, it was just a random sentence his brain had produced. "I am his half brother Sam, ask him if you want. He'll tell you," Lucifer said coldly, goading Sam to action.

"No. And even if it is true, I probably put it together from pieces of information that I overheard," snarled Sam firmly.

"Ask him Sam, do it. I know you're curious. You want to know. You NEED to know. Ask him, go on, as-" pushed Lucifer, abruptly stopping as Sam stood up, grabbing the rusty sink for support.

"If I ask him will you shut up?" he gritted out, his eyes squeezed shut to keep the ceiling still.

"I will," promised the man with a vicious grin.

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Sam walked slowly into the living room where Cas and Dean were talking, hugging the wall as he went. Cas saw Dean's eyes flick to Sam and turned to face him. Something burned white hot in Sam's head, he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Are you okay, Sammy?" demanded Dean. Sam heard the older man take a step forward, so he put out his hand to tell him to stop. He felt really weird, like he was on the edge of a cliff and was just about to fall.

"Was. Luci. Your. Half. Brother?" Sam pushed out in small, clipped, syllables.

Castiel frowned deeply. "Yes, but I think you should sit down Sam. You don't look too good," replied Cas.

And with that Sam slipped, cascading over the edge and flying at Cas. The last thing he remembered was Dean apologizing, and slamming his fist into his skull.

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When Sam woke up, pale white goop and blood was dripping from his nose as Cas tried to wipe as the excess from his face. Dean knelt to the left of Sammy, holding his hand. He squeezed it when he saw Sam's eyes open.

"Hey kid. Is it you in there?" he ventured softly.

"Yeah, " croaked Sam, "and I think we're alone again."

Cas pushed the pile of saturated tissues away. "If I had to guess, I'd say that a buildup of diseased fluid in Sam's body caused the symptoms. Best case scenario - periodic and controlled bleeding will stem the effects for a while." Cas explained clinically, but his tone softened after that. "Now, how about we all get some food?"

Everyone seemed to silently agree that ignoring the problem was the best way to deal with it for now.

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When Cas and Dean were alone, however, ignoring the problem was exactly the opposite of what Dean did.

"Cas, I'm- I just- what do I do? What can I do? I don't know how to help him!" Dean rambled, his breathing shaky and his arms flailing. "He's my responsibility and I failed him. Already, I've failed him." Dean ran a shaky hand through his hair.

His breathing became increasingly uneven. "Dean," said Cas firmly, taking his hands and holding onto them. "Look at me. Breath with me, OK?" Cas commanded, guiding Dean to the floor. Dean looked at Cas, his eyes panicked and his chest heaving. Cas couldn't think, so he just acted. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Dean's.

Dean didn't kiss back, but his body relaxed beneath Cas and a small gasp signalled the end of his uneven breathing. He sort of stopped breathing altogether. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, before Castiel pulled away.

Cas leaned back, embarrassment and exhilaration reddening his cheeks. "Umm. I-I heard that that works in extreme circumstances and I sort of... Panicked," stumbled Cas, trying to justify his actions to no one in particular.

"Oh, yeah sure, OK. OK. Sure," Dean said in a high-pitched voice, staring at Cas with wide eyes.

"You good? With the panic attack. Not the kiss. Not that it was a bad kiss. Not that it was a kiss... medical techniques and all," Cas continued to dig the hole deeper.

"I used to get them as a kid." explained Dean, "Just my dad, and the moving and school and stuff. It's fine. I'm just going to head to bed. That sort of took a lot out of me," Dean muttered shortly. His cheeks rosy, he got up quickly and walked into the room where Sam was sleeping, leaving Castiel alone.

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