Season 7
/
The loud crash and yelp sent them both rushing into the kitchen, Bobby arriving before Dean as the latter was still on crutches. What they saw was surprisingly underwhelming.
They had spent an odd few weeks so far in Rufus's cabin. Well, odd for them. Being stuck, no hunts, no info, no ability to do anything, they had adopted some practices that would be considered normal for a normal person, but odd for a trio of hunters. Most notable of these habits was cooking. They figured as long as they were stuck here, forced to play some strange version of normal, they might as well eat like it. Sam, in particular, had taken to it. And Dean approved… anything to take his mind off the hallucinations.
So when they walked into the kitchen, what they saw was momentarily confusing, until they wrapped their heads around what actually happened.
The table was loosely set, there were flat bowls set at three places with a jumble of forks and spoons in the center. But what Dean surmised was supposed to be dinner was spread out on the floor over a shattered glass oven pan. There were a pair of oven hands on the ground as well. It looked as though Sam had simply dropped the pan and let the mitts fall of his hands. No big deal, it happens. But the look on Sam's face lead Dean to form a different conclusion.
Sam was looking back and forth between the shattered dish and his hands, almost in a daze, but his face held an expression somewhere between fear and confusion.
Bobby and Dean each knew the best course of action in this situation. This wasn't the first mess borne of Sam's hallucinations they had to clean up. The other day, Sam had knocked a shelf over when he backed up into it while trying to escape some invisible attacker.
Bobby started to clean up the now never-to-be-eaten meal and Dean carefully approached Sam.
"Sam, hey, Sammy… look at me… I need you to tell me what happened." Dean tried to be gentle about it. The tone he had used on Sam as a child had made a recent reappearance in their lives. "It's ok… just tell me what happened." He knew he wouldn't get anywhere with trying to help Sam out of this episode if Sam wouldn't talk. But Sam was still a bit out of it, still just coming around to reality. Dean lightly grabbed his shoulder and tried to get him to meet his eyes. "Sammy, Sammy, look at me. It wasn't real, ok? Whatever you saw it wasn't real. Your safe, we're in Rufus's cabin."
"It was on fire… I… I got it out of the oven and… And then… it caught and my hands… and then everywhere…" he was starting to come around a little more now, realizing that it hadn't been real. But his voice was still shaky and it wasn't enough yet. Dean had gathered a few tricks in the last weeks to help Sam.
"Sam, listen to me. There was no fire. Ok? Come on, look around. See? Nothing is on fire. You are definitely not on fire."
Finally, Sam met his eyes and it seemed like he was mostly back, seeing reality for what it actually was, not what his brain was telling him it was. He nodded.
"Remember Sam? We got to say it; there was no fire." Dean said it firmly, but still as gentle as he could manage.
"No fire" Sam repeated softly.
"Yep that's right Sammy. No fire. Come on, what else?"
"It…It wasn't on fire. And I wasn't on fire." Sam's voice was stronger now. He took a deep breath and it seemed that was the end of it. He was alright for now. Dean held his gaze for another second but then switched his attention to Bobby, who was trying to clean the floor with an old rag. Sam seemed to notice him there for the first time. "Bobby, I can clean that up, you don't have to."
Bobby hesitated for a second but then said "alright, I don't think this rag is going to do it. Go see if you can find a mop in the shed."
Sam went to go find a mop and Bobby sat back, leaving the mess for a second. He said to Dean, "You know, I think he came out of it quicker that time. That's good right?"
"Yeah." Dean replied, "I think he's actually starting to do better but this is still gonna be slow and steady."
"We'll get him through it."
/
Sam's next episode of hallucinations happened when Dean wasn't there.
Dean had been getting a bit cabin crazy and had decided, crutches be damned, he was going out for a few minutes, just down to the store to grab some supplies. So it came down to Bobby to pull Sam out of the next hallucination. But Bobby, despite watching how Dean went about helping his brother through this, felt extremely underprepared when he entered the back room to find Sam huddled in the corner on the floor, curled in on himself as though he was trying to protect his vital areas from some incoming threat. He was visibly shaking.
In an instant Bobby was kneeling on the ground beside him. His knees protested the position but Bobby was too focused on Sam to notice.
"Sam?"
At the sound of his voice Sam immediately reacted. He curled in tighter on himself, and his mangled sobs became coherent words.
"No,no,no. Please stop. No. get away. Please…" Bobby could barely bring himself to listen to this… this insight into the horrors Sam had faced. But right now he had to help him.
"Sam, listen…you… you aren't in that place anymore. You're here, with us. With me and Dean in Rufus's God-awful cabin. Your safe. You aren't in the cage."
Sam didn't respond, he gave no indication that he had heard Bobby at all. Bobby couldn't think of anything else to say, of anything that might pull Sam out of this, so he reached out to grab Sam's shoulder like he'd seen Dean do a few times.
It did not have the desired effect. Sam immediately reacted to Bobby's touch but not in the way Bobby was hoping for. It happened so fast Bobby didn't even see it, but suddenly he was knocked sideways having been hit across the face by Sam. But it did at least seem to draw Sam's attention. He was now staring at Bobby, still apparently drenched in fear. Bobby knew Sam wasn't really seeing him as who he was. He was seeing Lucifer. Bobby approached him again, more carefully this time.
"Sam, it's me, its Bobby. What your seeing isn't real. I'm real, ok? Just focus on me. It's Bobby, the real Bobby, and I am not going to hurt you."
"No. Not again. Not him. Please don't hurt him. Hurt me."
"Sam, listen to me. I need you to listen to me. I am real, were are here together in Rufus's cabin. You are not in the cage. No one is hurting you or me. We are both safe. "
The look on Sam's face changed slightly and Bobby thought he was starting to comprehend what he was hearing, starting to believe him.
"But I… Lucifer made me kill you… I killed you."
"No, I'm not dead. Cas brought me back. Remember? Remember what we told you? God saved Cas and then Cas brought me back. I'm alive, and I'm here."
"you… you're alive."
After a few more minutes Bobby finally got through to him and Sam was starting to calm down. He was definitely lucid now but he seemed exhausted. Bobby moved a little closer to him. Sam's eyes locked on Bobby's face where Bobby could feel a bruise already forming.
"I'm sorry."
"No Sam, it's alright. It's no big deal, believe me I've had a few good hits to the face before."
"I meant when I killed… When Lucifer killed you… I couldn't stop him. I'm Sorry. I… I should have… I should have stopped him. I'm sorry."
"Sam, it was not your fault. You did stop him. You saved all of us, you saved everyone, saved the world."
Sam looked unconvinced
/
The thought that Sam was getting better had all but vanished in the minds of Dean and Bobby. With every new day, Sam's hallucinations escalated. Eventually, the severity of the situation could no longer be denied. Sam had one of his most severe episodes yet, and Dean knew that he wasn't going to be enough anymore.
Sam had been having a rough day anyway, in and out of focus, spacing out when they tried to talk to him. But they had watched some purely ridiculous action movie early and it seemed that the lazy nothingness helped. He was doing a little better by the time it was evening.
The calm before the storm, Dean would later think.
Sam had gone in the other room for a few minutes. Dean was pretty sure Sam was attempting some semblance of laundry. He had a mild obsession with cleanliness lately. Dean actually wanted to leave Sam alone for a little while, he wanted to give him some space. He hoped Sam would feel a little better, get better hold of his thoughts if he had a minute to himself. Naturally, the one time Dean though he could leave him alone for a little while was the one time Sam really needed someone to be there. Dean was mindlessly watching the TV, almost sleeping when he heard it.
Sam screamed. Not the sort of gruff shout he had heard from him countless times before after he got hit by a werewolf or thrown by a demon. This was a sound that Dean couldn't bear to fathom the origin of. A sound of pure, hopeless fear.
He rushed into the room as quickly as he could on crutches, praying that Sam hadn't hurt himself. It wouldn't be the first time Dean arrived seconds before disaster. But what he saw this time sent chills down his spine.
The room was littered with objects that had seemingly been thrown at the walls. Not a single thing seemed to be in its rightful place. And Sam… Sam seemed to be fighting something in the air, limbs flailing to form any sort of defense from what he was seeing.
He started shouting again, this time with words. "NO, NO STOP. NO. PLEASE. NO!"
At that point he crashed into the wall. His fist slamming through the wood. In another instant he had backed into the shelf, cutting his shoulder against the corner. Dean had to stop him before he really hurt himself.
Dean didn't give himself any time to think before instinct took over and he acted. In one motion he lunged at Sam. He caught him at the shoulder but his movement, as well as his current inability to stand properly, sent them careening toward the floor. They landed in an odd heap of limbs but Dean just managed to grab hold of Sam before he could move out of reach. But Sam was still struggling. Still shouting, begging, "NO. NOT AGAIN. PLEASE NO. NOOO!"
Dean knew very well that he could be causing him more distress. Sam didn't always respond well to any physical touch when he was caught in the deeper hallucinations. But Dean also knew that in this moment it would be more dangerous to let go of him. It took all his strength, but Dean managed to keep his arms locked around Sam as he still resisted.
"Sam it's me. It's Dean. The real me, not Lucifer. Come on Sam snap out of it, I know you can do it, come on buddy." Sam still struggled, still flailed about in every attempt to get out of Deans hold. "Sam it isn't real. Sam you gotta listen to me, he isn't here, he isn't real. It's just me Sam." Dean continued his mantra but Sam gave no sign of understanding Dean.
He just continued to shout. "NO. NO. STOP. NO."
Dean didn't know what else to say, what else to do. He tightened his grip on Sam and resigned himself to waiting this out.
After what felt like hours but could only have been minutes Sam did seem to tire himself out. His struggling grew weaker and eventually stopped all together. The hallucination and pure physical exhaustion seemed to be just too much for him because somehow, before Dean knew it happened, Sam was completely knocked out, sleeping against him. And Dean just stayed there for a few more minutes, looking around the room and trying to process what had just happened.
When Bobby came in just a moment later he was stunned by the scene before him. Dean met his eyes and an understanding seemed to pass between them. They both knew it. It was time.
They were no longer enough.
/
Sam had been in the hospital for three weeks when Dean go the call. In that time, Dean resumed hunting, taking cases that were close enough to the hospital, but he came to visit Sam every chance he got. Dean had searched every possible aspect, tried every contact of his, his dad's, and Bobby's. He had read anything he could get his hands on the had the slightest chance of being helpful. A real solution to Sam's hallucinations had never arisen. Once Sam was in the hospital, it was harder for them to convince themselves that it wasn't where he needed to be. They hated it, but they had to admit it was the safest choice for now. So far, it didn't seem like Sam was doing much better, but Dean figured it would just take more time. He was pondering this, on his way back from a hunt, when he got the call.
"Mr. Smith?"
"Yeah who is this?"
"I'm calling from Greenly Hospital. I'm one of the nurses overseeing you brother Sam."
"What happened? Is Sammy okay?"
"There was an incident this morning and we'd like you to come in-"
"Is he okay?" Dean didn't like that she wasn't just telling him what happened. His imagination was beginning to run wild with the possible problems, things that Sam might have done or said, or things that may have happened to him. He pressed down a little more on the accelerator.
"He is going to be fine-"
"Going to be?"
"Sir this morning he somehow managed to get ahold of one of the knives from the kitchen and a staff member found him with his wrist cut-"
The rush of anger and fear that overtook him lead Dean to miss the next thing the nurse said and he pushed down on the accelerator even more. He wasn't sure if she was still talking when he managed to say "I'll be there in twenty minutes" and hung up on her.
Dean was barely keeping it together as he drove as fast as he could to get to Sam. Luckily he wasn't very far. He tried his best not to get ahead of himself in envisioning what had really happened. He wanted to get the full story from Sam and the doctors, because it didn't make sense. He couldn't bear the thought that Sam would actually try to…
When he arrived at the hospital he was greeted by a woman he assumed was the nurse he spoke to over the phone.
"Mr. Smith?"
"Where is he? Is he alright? What the hell happened? How did he- How could you let- You guys are supposed to be helping him!" he didn't try to contain his outrage, but really he just wanted to get to Sam. The nurse led him down the hallway while attempting a weak defense of her hospital.
"We aren't sure how he could have done it. The patients are supervised at all times and the door to the kitchen is locked. I don't know he could have been quick enough that we wouldn't notice. It wasn't 'til another nurse actually found him unconscious in the bathroom that we knew any of it."
"I told you guys, I warned you. He knows how to do this kind of thing. He's trained. How could you not have been watching him?"
At that point they arrived at the room Sam was in and Dean didn't wait for the nurse to continue trying to explain what happened. When he saw Sam he felt like his heart dropped to the floor. Sam was sitting up in the bed but he looked ill. He was white as a sheet, and the bandages… 'cut wrists' had apparently been an understatement. The bandages extended all the way up to his elbows. Sam was tugging at them near his wrists.
Dean rushed to his side. "Sammy, what happened? Are you alright?"
"Dean!" the relief was evident in his voice. "I didn't… It wasn't…" but that was all he got out before he starting breathing to rapidly to get any more words out. Sam was clearly having a panic attack. His breath went shallow and rapid until he was almost choking. Dean hated to admit it, but he was overwhelmed by what was going on. He didn't know what to do or how he could help. Luckily, after a minute Sam calmed down enough to explain what happened. But he remained agitated throughout the whole recount.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I just… I thought… I was trying to get the blood out of me, the demon blood. I wasn't trying to-I'm sorry."
"Hey, no, no, no, it's alright, you're alright now…You know it wasn't real right? You know-" he had to choose his words carefully. He couldn't say 'you won't get the demon blood out that way' with the nurse standing there. He had to come up with a different way to phrase it, to say something helpful without raising any red flags. The best he could come up with was "you know you can't do that right?"
Sam just nodded. Clearly, Sam was aware now that he had been deluded earlier. This explanation, while worrisome in itself, actually reassured Dean a little bit. Sam hadn't tried to kill himself because he actually wanted to kill himself. He had been deluded into thinking he could save himself by opening his wrists. It wasn't quite the same.
Dean wasn't sure if he should raise the next issue, but he wanted to get the whole story from Sam. "Sam… how did you get the knife?"
At that Sam wouldn't meet his eyes. "I… I waited until they were distracted by someone else and I swiped one of Ally's pipe-cleaners to pick the lock."
Dean wasn't sure what to make of that, and he looked up at the nurse. her expression had changed to one of understanding as she realized how Sam was able to get through the door.
In an aside to Dean she said, "we gave another patient some craft supplies last week. Sam wasn't supposed to have any but he must have stolen it from her."
But this bit of information revealed a few problems. First, it showed that they hadn't watched Sam carefully enough and would now have to ensure there was someone with a constant watch on him specifically. Secondly, it showed that, even when motivated by delusion, Sam was very capable of using all his training. He was out of touch with reality, but his cleverness was working in full capacity. That was a recipe for danger.
Just then the doctor came in to talk with Sam and Dean had to leave the room. He waited, contemplating everything he had just heard. What now? It was beginning to seem like Sam was in as much danger here as he would be anywhere else. These people, while supposedly trained for it, didn't really know how to handle Sam. They would never be able to keep a close enough eye on him, and every time they did manage to catch him, it would only provide him with better knowledge of how to avoid them. Eventually that cycle would run out and Sam might end up doing something that no one could stop. Other than that, the fact that he was still having hallucinations that were powerful enough to get him to take a knife to his arms showed that he also wasn't getting any better anyway. Was this really the best solution? Or should Dean try to find some other way to help his brother.
Dean was still mulling it all over, still pretty livid when the doctor came back out of Sam's room. And he didn't try to shield it.
"What the hell is going on? You guys are supposed to be helping him but then this-"
The doctor, most likely familiar with this sort of reaction to such an event cut Dean off mid stride. "Dean, I know this is frightening but you need to trust us. Today is not the best example of it but your brother has been doing better. This process takes time and it isn't exactly linear. Just don't give up on him-"
"You listen to me. I will never, never, give up on my little brother. I'm just wondering if I should give up on you. What sort of place is this that it was possible for him to… to do that without anyone noticing that something was wrong? I told you, I warned you people that you would need to watch him. He-"
It seemed that this whole conversation was going to move from interruption to interruption, because once again the doctor cut him off. "And today showed us that all our precautions weren't enough, I'll admit that to you. But now that we've spotted the hole in our ring we will be all the more prepared next time. I assure you this will not happen again."
/
Over the next year Dean would reflect on that day and think it must have been the final leap for Sam somehow. After that, it seemed he had worn his hallucinations out and he quickly started getting better. He never had another severe episode and the hallucinations of Lucifer rapidly faded. It was two months after the incident itself when he was released and resumed hunting.
At first, Dean was wary of allowing Sam to begin hunting again. Hunting was not the nicest of businesses, and he was worried that the blood alone could trigger Sam's PTSD. As it turned out, he had somewhat underestimated his brother. While there were some lingering symptoms- a heightened fear of restraint being the most prominent one- Sam's familiarity with hunting seemed to make it more cure than curse for him. Getting back to something he had been doing his whole life probably helped Sam more than just about anything. And Dean had to admit, it was nice to have his brother back.