Chapter 8:
Mackland opened his eyes and found himself in a hallway. It looked like the upstairs hallway in Jim's house except it seems to go on forever.
"Sam? Can you hear me?"
"Yes."
"Do you think you can come find me? I could use your help."
"I don't think that's a good idea... I'm not exactly the Sam you know."
"That's okay Sam. I am not here to judge you, just to help."
"I don't think you get it Mac... I know you... but you don't know me. You are going to be afraid of me."
Mackland frowned.
"There is no part of Sam that I fear."
"Are you sure?" A voice said behind him.
Mackland turned and saw Sam leaning against the wall behind him. Well sort of Sam. Sam was in an oversized sweatshirt, his hood up over his head. Sunglasses covering his eyes. He was bent down awkwardly, lacking all the self-confidence that Mac had grown to recognize in the young hunter.
"So, who are you?"
Sam shrugged.
"I'm Sam, a part of him anyway. I am the part that was chosen to guide your way."
"Do you know what happened? Why he is like this?"
"No, not exactly. I just know that something touched down in here, made my brain catch on fire."
"And that's what is causing the stuttering?"
Sam laughed.
"He protected himself against the attack but damaged himself in the process. Don't worry Doc, it's fixable. We just have to find the right door."
Sam pushed himself from the wall and walked in front of Mackland. Mackland followed slowly behind the young man who stopped at the first door.
"I hate this, just so you know. I don't want you going through my memories."
"I asked you for permission. You said you trusted me to keep your secrets."
Sam smirked.
"I do. But... I don't know everything that is in here and there are some not so good memories hidden in here as well."
"I promise that nothing I see in here will make me care about you any less."
Sam nodded and pointed to the first door.
"Guess we might as well start here."
Mackland stepped up to the first door and opened it with ease. Inside he saw the farm and three younger boys running freely having a snow ball fight. Mac closed it quietly and watched as the previously wooden door turned green.
"What does green mean?" Mac asked Sam.
"Good things. I have lots of those."
"And I am assuming that the block in Sam's mind is not in one of his good memories."
"Probably a good guess Doc."
"Can you show me which doors hold the good memories?"
Sam smiled.
"I think I can help with that."
Mackland watched as several more doors in the hall turned green. Making is search just a little easier. He walked up to the next brown one and paused before pushing it open.
"This isn't going to be like a snowball fight... is it?"
"I doubt it. But only one way to find out."
Mackland pushed the door open and looked in. It was a motel room, and a younger Sam was sitting in the middle of one of the beds. Tears streamed from his face.
"Dad, I'm sorry." The younger Sam said.
Mac looked over to the table where John Winchester was sitting.
"Don't say sorry if you don't mean it." John said.
"Dean? Please I didn't mean to."
A younger Dean appeared from the bathroom.
"You killed my Mom Sam. There is no forgiving you."
The door slammed in Mac's face and turned a bright red. He turned to look at Sam.
"You aren't going to find what you are looking for in there." Sam said.
Mac was confused. That did not sound like the Winchester's he knew.
"What does red mean Sam?"
"Nightmares. I dream that one a lot."
"You know that isn't true. Your family loves you."
"All due respect Mac, you can take that up with the Sam out there. There is no reason to try and convince me."
Mackland followed Sam as he continued down the hallway.
"But you are part of Sam."
"Of course I am, but I am the parts of himself he keeps hidden. Some parts he hides by choice, others... well... some he has kept buried out of sheer force of will. He doesn't know those parts very well."
Mackland stopped as a cold chill made its way up his spine.
"Sam, look at me."
Sam stopped at looked towards the doctor.
"Take off your sunglasses."
"No Mac, I can't." Sam turned away and Mackland caught him by the sleeve.
"There is no part of Sam I fear." Mac repeated. He reached up to pull down the boy's hoodie and then reached for his glasses.
For the first time he looked up into the teenagers' bright yellow eyes.
"Damn it Sam... no one see you like this."
Sam turned away and looked down the hall.
"The Sam out there doesn't know about this yet, but he was there the day yellow eyes visited. Call it a subconscious memory."
"You aren't the parts Sam keeps hidden... you are what he hates about himself..."
Sam shrugged.
"Same thing. C'mon follow me, there is one more door."
Mackland was openly crying but he followed Sam anyway, wanting to fix this so he could get out of here and try and help Sam. This door was different. It looked the same on the outside, but when Mackland turned the knob, he couldn't get it to budge. He took a few steps back to kick it but froze when he heard the release of a gun's safety.
"I can't let you go in there." The voice said.
Mackland turned around and realized he was face to face with Dean Winchester.