Don't Fear the Reaper

Hospitalized

"Dean, he's gone!" You exclaimed, rushing from your room, pounding on Dean's door. "Hurry up!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Dean yelled. You could hear his footsteps coming closer to the door before it was yanked open and Dean stood there wearing nothing but boxers and a black t-shirt. "What do you mean he's gone?" 

"I mean we were both sound asleep. At least I thought we were. Then I woke up this morning, and his side of the bed was cold. He's been gone for a while, and he's not answering his phone!" You shouted at Dean, your fear for Sam making your emotions out of wack.

"Y/N, calm down. Hysterics aren't going to bring him back." Dean grumbled, pulling his own phone out, cursing when he saw he had a voicemail. "Wait, maybe this is him."

Taking a deep breath, you stood their impatiently as Dean listened to the voicemail, feeling a deep pit in your stomach as Dean's jaw clenched and his mouth turned down in a frown. "Damn it." He muttered, hanging up his phone before turning his attention to you. 

"What is it?" You asked, fearing the worst. "Sam's been taken to a hospital. I guess he was running around last night, was hit by a car."

"Is he okay?" You questioned, watching as Dean ran a hand along his mouth.

"Besides a couple of bruises and scratches, not really." Dean told you, and you froze. You knew Sam wasn't doing well. You couldn't help but see the dark circles under his eyes, the utter exhaustion turning his skin pale. "Y/N, they've admitted him to a special wing. One for mental patients. They say he's severely sleep deprived, to the point where it could kill him. They want to keep him there for a while, run some tests, see if they can figure things out."

You could see this was killing Dean. Not being able to help his brother, to take away his pain and suffering. Forgetting your own heartache, you walked up to Dean, wrapping your arms around him, resting your head against his chest. "Dean, we will figure this out. Maybe having Sam in the hospital is the best thing at the moment. He can't hurt himself there, and maybe they will be able to stop Lucifer's control where we couldn't. And we can concentrate on finding a cure."

"What if there isn't one? What if he's too far gone?" Dean whispered both of your biggest fear.

"Dean, don't talk like that. You're not one to give up. We will dig, and fight, and let Sam know where here for him. That's the least we can do." You insisted, even though you felt like cuddling into a ball, and crying until you couldn't cry anymore. "Now, let's go see him."

After promising to meet up at the Impala in thirty minutes, you went back to your room, staring down at the empty spot in your bed with tears in your eyes. Saddened that you hadn't been able to help Sam, and that you had opened your heart up again to get it tossed right back at you. It was easy to say that Sam wasn't himself, that he needed help. But it hurt that you hadn't been able to be there for the once person who meant the world to you. 

Heading straight through the room, you went straight for the shower. Stripping as you went, you stepped into the scalding hot water, not caring that your skin was turning red from the heat. Leaning against the wall, you let it pound against you as your tears mixed with the water drops. You could count the number of times you had felt this down, and it wasn't a feeling you liked. You hated this feeling of sadness mixed with an inability to help the one person who needed it.

You weren't sure how long you stayed in the shower, letting your tears mix with the water sliding down the drain, but finally you pulled yourself away. Shutting the water off, you towel dried your body, slipping into jeans and a simple black shirt. Tossing on a blue and gray flannel, you piled your hair up into a bun. Sliding on your boots, you were lacing them up just as Dean knocked on the door. "Ready?" He asked, and you nodded. Following him to the Impala, you stayed quiet as he began the short drive to the hospital. 

Pulling up to it's stark white outside, you hated knowing that Sam was in there, no doubt exhausted and all alone. "Dean, I'm not sure I can do this." You whispered, not wanting to see Sam in a place like this.

"You can. Because he needs to see you, both of us. He needs to know that we haven't given up on him. That we still think there is hope." Dean ordered, and you knew he was right. No matter how hard this was on you and Dean, it had to be that much harder on Sam. After all, he was the one locked in this place, on the verge of dying because Lucifer wouldn't let him sleep. 

"I wish Cas was here." You said softly. Dean must have heard you, because he reached over, grasping your hand with his large, callused one.

"I do too. That awkward Angel might have known how to help Sammy." Dean answered wistfully. Heading into the bleached hallway, you were immediately stopped by an orderly.

"Can I help you?" She asked, looking the two of you up and down.

"Yes. We're here to see my brother." Dean told her, giving off another one of their fake names. With a nod, she had you follow her down the quiet hallway to a door in the back of the place. "Dr. Steinwick will be here momentarily."

Sitting down at the desk, you glanced around the room. Certificates hung everywhere, proclaiming that he was one of the best at his job. You hoped that was the case, that he could help Sam out.

"Hello. I heard that you're our new patients brother. Nice to meet you." An older man, with a receding hairline said as he came into the room. 

"Yes. We received a call, and came straight away. How is he?" Dean asked, as the doctor sat down behind his desk.

"Your brother is a very sick man." Dr. Steinwick told us. "He's lucky that he didn't receive any more injuries from being hit by a car. But it's his lack of sleep that has us worried. We've tried pills, everything. And still he hasn't slept a wink." 

"Can we see him?" You asked, wanting to at least Sam once.

"I think that can be arranged. But only for a moment. We wouldn't want to upset your brother too much. And he's already been moved up to the high security ward." The doctor explained.

"Why?" Dean asked, about ready to pommel the Dr. 

"He attacked one of our orderly's. Said something about Lucifer and it took three men to pull your brother off. He's in a very dangerous predicament right now." The Dr told you, but he still stood up, holding the door open. Stepping outside, you followed yet another nameless orderly down the hall, to a room off to the side. Stepping inside, you felt your knees grow wobbly, and you wanted nothing more than to rush forward and wrap your arms around the shell of a man in front of you.

"Hey Sammy." Dean said from the  doorway. Both of you were looking at Sam. His hair hung limp and dull, his face a mixture of bruises and cuts, with the dark circles under his eyes. The white clothing they had placed him in doing nothing for his already pale skin. 

"Y/N, Dean?" He asked, his attention moving from where the two of you stood to the corner of the room before coming back again. "Is it really you?"

Taking a chance, you moved forward, placing your hands on his cheeks. "It's really us. And we are working to get you help." Pressing your lips to his, you waited for his recognition. To realize that you were real, that you had truly come to visit him.

It took a couple of moments before his hands reached up, wrapping in your hair as he deepened the kiss, almost painfully. "I was hoping you would come. They keep telling me to sleep, but Lucifer won't let me. I don't know how much more of this I can take." Sam babbled once his lips finally left yours.

Pressing a hand to your swollen and sore lips, you glanced back at Dean. "Sam, this is the safest place for you right now. Dean and I have been scouring everything we can find, trying to find a cure. We will find one, don't you worry."