"Sam was admitted. He was treated for a broken rib and lacerations," The Doctor began.
"Ok. That's not too bad. And?" Dean prompted.
"And...he's on our locked psychiatric floor."
Dean scoffed, trying to shrug it off, "I mean, he's had some trouble."
"So, you're aware he's having a full-blown psychotic episode?" The Doctor interrupted.
"Psychotic?" Dean raised his eyebrows, "Come on, I mean, the guy's—it's not the like the guy is freaking Norman Bates." He protested.
"I'm sure he isn't," the Doctor replied calmly, "We need to determine whether his state was brought on by the insomnia, or whether the insomnia is a symptom of his condition."
"Well, the sleep thing is kind of new," Dean replied.
The Doctor sighed and nodded, "Well, we've pumped him as full of sedatives as we safely can and so far he won't go under. I've never seen anything like it."
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* * * * *
Sam heard the buzzer go off in the distance, signifying someone was entering the psychiatric floor. God, a locked floor, complete with a buzzer. Sam was reminded of the scene from "The Silence of the Lambs" when Agent Starling had followed a doctor down to visit Hannibal Lecter and a buzzer had gone off every time she went through a door. And here Sam was, locked up like Hannibal the Cannibal, complete with a buzzer. He really was crazy. Worse yet the sedatives were wearing off. Instead of putting him to sleep the medication had made him numb, and now his headache was returning.
He felt awful.
"I'm just sayin' –" Lucifer remarked as he pulled a piece of yarn between his fingers. The hallucination had been sitting on the table by the door, and Sam was trying to ignore it, "Back when you had no soul –you never had to sleep."
There was click and the door to Sam's cell—no, his room, this was hospital –opened up.
"Ah, Mister Helpless!" Lucifer exclaimed as Dean entered the room. "Pull up a six-pack buddy."
"How you feelin'?" Dean asked in that gruff voice that meant he was worried.
Sam chuckled but it came out when even less humor than intended, "Maybe you should cancel my UFC flight."
"Yeah, keep that sense of humor, Sam," Lucifer drawled with a smirk as he pulled at his yarn, "It'll get you through this."
Dean slowly sat on the end of Sam's bed, "Sam, I'm gonna find you help."
Sam scoffed.
"Now...that sounded a little cynical," Lucifer remarked.
"I don't think it's out there, Dean." Sam said.
"We don't know that," Dean argued.
"We know better than most," Sam replied, "It's all snake oil. Last faith healer we hooked up with had a..." he sighed with exhaustion, "reaper on a leash, remember?"
Dean sighed and stood up from the bed, his back facing Sam as he paced, "Yeah...Sam, I remember."
"Sometimes, I think he does that so you don't see the worry on his face," Lucifer commented.
Sam sighed, "I'm just saying—"
"What?" Dean snapped, "That you don't want my help?"
"Touchy," Lucifer remarked and raised his hand to the corner of his mouth, "It's a defense mechanism." He whispered and winked, "Because he doesn't know what to do."
"No, I'm just saying..." Sam sighed again, "Don't do this to yourself."
"Sam, if I don't find something –" Dean began.
"Then I'll die," Sam finished and Dean gaped at him.
Lucifer raised his hands, "Aw, you're upsetting me."
"Dean, we knew this was coming," Sam explained.
Dean shook his head, "No. No. No. No."
"When you put my soul back—" Sam went on.
Dean waved a finger, "No. No. No."
"Cas warned you about all the crap—"
"Screw Cas!" Dean exclaimed, "Quit being all Dali freakin' Yoda about this, ok? Get pissed!" Dean slammed his fist into his palm.
Sam sighed deeply, "I'm too tired."
And Sam meant that. He really meant that.
Sam continued, "This is what happens when you throw a soul in Lucifer's dog bowl. When you think there's just gonna be some cure out there?"
Dean's eyes met his and Dean gulped and nodded.
"Aw, you guys are having a mo-ment." Lucifer remarked in mock sympathy.
Dean nodded, visibly fighting tears, and left, slamming the door behind him.
Sam stared at the wall. He had told Dean what needed to be said.
He was a lost cause.
An actual nutcase.
Later, a nurse came in a did more testing on Sam. Sam didn't listen to what she was saying or pay attention to what levels she was measuring. It wouldn't work, whatever it was. He was lost cause, and frankly, Sam was ready for it all to be over.
"Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Now this one I could have," Lucifer remarked, sitting cross-legged and reading a book in front of him. Funny how the devil's voice always made it through Sam's sleep-deprived haze. Sam didn't even bother to point out the doctors wouldn't leave a book about mental disorders around for patients to use. This was obviously part of the hallucination. Sam sat with his back to Lucifer, trying to block Satan out.
Footsteps approached. The nurse was back. "Time for meds, Sam," she said.
"Sets unrealistic goals. Check," Lucifer mused.
The nurse handed Sam some pills and a glass of water.
"But trouble keeping healthy relationships?" Lucifer said, "Not so sure about that one. Thoughts?"
Sam took the pills and ignored Lucifer. Even though he knew the medication wouldn't help the hallucinations , half of him hoped he would get an overdose that would make this all end sooner.
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AN: I promise there will be more original content I just need to establish a base for this story so I am going to include a lot of stuff from the episode.
