Disclaimer: I do not own any right to Supernatural, or any of the characters appearing in this story. The original concept is due to Eric Kripke and the rights to it are owned by The CW Network. This is written just for fun and I do not make any profit out of it.

A.N.: The collection is inspired by the Febuwhump2024 challenge. I am starting late and I am not sure how far along I will get with this, that's why is marked complete.

This is a flash-fic.

Warnings: Do I need to say isolation given the prompt? Mentioned of forced drug use. Mention of violence.

SOLITARY CONFINEMENT

Dean pushed against the walls with his shoulder. He didn't expect them to bulge, except for the softness of the white padding, exactly like they hadn't given way the other fifty times he tried But the task kept him busy and busy was good. He avoided the door; last time he shouldered it, a doctor came in and dosed him with something. He had no clue, how long he had been out of commission after that. The walls kept him busy and busy was sane, or whatever definition of sane you can apply to a man pushing against a wall and hoping it to bulge.

On top of it, his nose was itching, right at the base, close to the eyes. He tried all possible positions to scratch it against the wall, but that was pointless – just another way to pass the time. He never realized how much he counted on his arms and hands for these small stupid tasks until someone locked them in a straight jacket. Of course he could break out of the straight jacket at any moment if he wanted to, but that would have consequences. The first and only time he did it, someone had slipped a hand-held camera through the small hatch in the door. He was puzzled at first. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with it, but he had been in that padded cell for a few hours or so and he was already bored out of his mind. Tired of the whiteness that surrounded him and of the lack of sound. So he grabbed the device and fumbled with it. There was a previous recorded video, its first photogram was "Watch me" written with a red marker on a piece of paper. Dean immediately got a feeling that he didn't want to watch it. He pressed play. As the digital screen animated, the piece of paper quickly got removed from in front of the camera. Behind it was Sammy. His brother was so pumped with drugs that he was basically a vegetable. In the video a blade passed close to Sam's face and he was not even registering it. Dean screamed and trashed but when they came to put him back in the straight jacket and collect the camera he let them. From that moment on, he decided he was going to keep the damn jacket on until they got a plan, until they knew who they were up against. Screw his nose.

He had a pattern to his madness. He thought that would also help to keep him focused. He would push against the wall, kneel down and try again, jump and try the upper part, move a few inches along the wall and start all over. If there was anything like a weak spot he would find it.

After all he had put himself in that situation. They had gone in flashing their badges. Agents Richard and Beck. There had been an inexplicable series of sudden healings from the psychiatric guard, so they were pretty sure they were hunting a demon. An easy run of the mill case for a change. Against all odds, the nurse at the reception had an older brother in the real FBI. She could tell immediately that their ID were fake. She called the hospital security guard - a huge man that towered even on Sam and hit the gym more often then they drink beer - and made them wait for the police. Thanks to her agent Richard's and Beck's badges lasted no more than half an hour.

They were left with plan B, after all they suspected the skank was hiding in the psychiatric guard. They started to talk openly about their last hunt. At the mention of witches, they got all kind of mocking from Charmed to Oz. When the police arrived, they went on with the conversation. They had reached the point, where they were trying to convince the guard that Oz was real, and a friend of them went there with Dorothy after defeating the wicked witch of the East. The two young policemen, probably rookies, exchanged a puzzled look. They asked for an extra minute. Sam and Dean kept an eye out as the two move to a corner and conversed in an agitated way. It didn't take long before one of them came back.

He was a rock enthusiast. "Richard and Beck nice choice." He had started. Dean had made some small talk, on how people tend to forget Beck too easily just because he never was in a major band. Truth was they were playing a two sided game. The policeman was trying to distract them from his partner making a call to the precinct. Dean was trying to distract the policeman from his brother who was in turn trying to keep track of said call. When the second policemen came back, he basically said plan B worked. Instead of bringing them in, they declared them insane and left them in the care of the hospital after a short questioning.

It was not ideal, not being able to leave on his own volition made Dean a bit uncomfortable. He could see that Sam was equally uneasy. Of course, none of them ever mentioned it, instead they focused on the case. They found a nurse who seemed to forget too many things. It fit the pattern of a minor demonic possession, they had predicted. Sam had stolen a crucifix from the common area to bless the water, Dean had kept hold of some salt from the meal. It wasn't much, but they had worked with less. They waited until the nurse shift was about to end and they tried to exorcise her. They throw the water and the salt and started to pronounce the word. The nurse just screamed for help, no sign of the demon. The guard rushed to aide. Dean thought he saw the man's eyes dart black for a moment and he start pummeling the huge man. Sam pronounced the exorcism again, but there was no effect on the man either. When he called Dean to stop it was already too late. The guard had a fractured jaw, and a couple of bruised ribs but had incapacitated Dean nonetheless.

"Violent and with delusional paranoia" That's what the doctor had written on Dean's file. That's how he ended up in that white room with nothing to do if not pushing against the walls and hugging himself inside the straight jacket. He had no idea how long he had been there, maybe a couple days. The time he was out after trying the door was making it even harder to count. Every once in a while someone was pushing a paper glass with a straw through the hatch in the door, but they were never entering the room. No one had ever entered the room and that was making him crazy. Food was liquid as well and greyish. It came with a straw as well, it taste vaguely like that too healthy stuff Sammy loved. He craved a cheeseburger over everything else. Holding it with his hands, bite into the soft bun and the crunchy bacon, feel the melted cheese stick to his mouth. Yeah he really wanted a cheeseburger right now.

He wasn't sure if Sammy had been drugged immediately after their failed exorcism or as a punishment for him getting out of his straight jacket, but the threat was definitely related to the second. The video still gave him the creeps two days after. He had no idea what had happened to his brother since the last time he saw him or right now. He pushed harder against the wall, putting all his strength in it until he gave up breathless.

He was tired even of the silence of that room. He was tired of the walls being too white and the food too gray. He closed his eyes and started to hum to the tune of Metallica, the note echoed in his head. He wanted is beautiful black Baby to play them for him.

He tried to make a mental list of all the things he would indulge in at the moment: Baby and the cheeseburger were definitely first, ribs, tacos, salad, basically, anything that would not fit through a straw. Next on the list were beer and whiskey, or bourbon, he wasn't picky. For those he could even make an exception to the straw rule. Then something to break silence, someone to talk to, some old rock or some crappy pop. The kind of things that Sammy would have liked. Sammy.

He screamed. Loud, visceral. He screamed and screamed again. He screamed until his throat got sore and his lungs burned. No one came to check on him. He didn't know if anyone did even hear him.

He would give all of those the list away to know what happened to Sammy. He sank to the floor, listening to the silence broken by his shallow breath. Even his own breathing felt too fucking loud. He stared at the white wall until he lost all sense of time and being.

The hatch opened, he didn't even bothered to get up for the grey mush that passed for food. He wanted to spit their damn strow back at them.

There was no food and no tray, just a voice coming from outside.

"Dean. Dean are you there?"

He didn't dare to hope. He scrambled to get close to the hatch, it wasn't easy to stand up in a straight jacket.

"Sam? Sammy are you okay?"

"We need to get out of here. The demon is not in the hospital."

"I don't give a damn about the demon. Are you okay?"

There was a metallic noise as Sam open the door.

Heavy step came running in their direction.

"This way."

Sam seemed to know everything he needed to know about the place.

"The demon is running the support group for the families of the patient."

"But the nurse?"

"Early-onset Alzheimer, she had gotten the diagnosis a couple months ago, I overheard her speaking with a colleague."

"Fuck. That's nasty."

"So the hospital, all for nothing?"

"No, not for nothing. The deputy was a witch, she worked with the demon. I found an hex bag in the corridor where we attacked the nurse."

The step were sounded further away as they enter the elevator that brought them to the ground floor.

"Is that why the drugged you?"

"Of course, but it wear off quickly. Wait. How do you know?"

"Doesn't matter."

Sam kept leading the way to the garage. Baby was there waiting for them. Dean thought he could cry.

Dean jumped in the driver seat. He switched on the radio and put it to the maximum, while single handedly driving the car out of his spot.

"Let's go gank a demon."