--Need I say no Wincest?--

Crazy for Trying

Day 17 (Midnight)

"B-because I'm crazy." He said, voice trembling. I looked down at him, disbelieving what he had just said. He wasn't kidding, at all. I could tell by his tone that he meant every word.

"What?" I blurted. I couldn't believe it.

"I'm c-crazy." He repeated. I shook my head.

"No, no, Dean, you're not crazy." I said.

"Yes I am," He whispered, closing his eyes. "H-he told me I was." I shook my head, eyes pained. What had that asshole done to him?

"Why do you think you're crazy, Dean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. His lip was trembling again.

"Because he wo-wouldn't have hurt me if i-it was true." He whimpered. I swallowed hard.

"Dean, look at me." I said, touching his cheek. He opened his eyes and looked up at me. "You are not crazy." I said firmly. I could see by looking at him he didn't believe me.

"No, n-no Sammy. It's not r-real. It-it's not real." He shut his eyes again, weakly shaking his head back and forth. My anger toward Manning increased tenfold at that moment. God, he was so scared.

"What's not real, Dean?" I asked gently.

"G-ghosts, demons, all of i-it. It's not real. It's n-not real…" He whispered, like he was afraid to say it too loudly.

"Dean, no," I shook my head and held his face between my hands. "You know that's a lie. He lied to you. Ghosts are real-"

"No!" He yelped. He looked around wildly, his breathing rapid. "D-don't say that! Don't say th-that!" I winced and swallowed.

"Dean, no one's gonna take me away, alright? No one can hear me right now," I assured. "You know that's a lie, Dean. You know it is." He shook his head a little harder.

"No…" He moaned. "No…" His voice was killing me.

"Dean," I held his face again. "Dean, what killed Mom?"

"Fire." I was going to kill Manning. I was going to cut his throat out with a rusted spoon. I was going to peel his face off layer by layer. He'd done this to him. He'd made my brother so afraid of the truth that he didn't see it. He brainwashed him.

I shook my head.

"No, Dean, c'mon you know the truth. What killed Mom?" I urged.

"Fire."

"What killed Dad?" I made sure his eyes stayed locked with mine. His eyes were moist, his mind searching. He knew the right answer, I know he did. But he was just too scared. "C'mon, Dean, what killed Dad?"

"A…a demon." He whispered so quietly I could barely hear him. I smiled lightly at him, nodding.

"What killed Mom?" He swallowed, biting his lip before he answered.

"A demon." I knew how hard it was for him to say it. But he said it. For the first time in my life I was happy my brother was so damn stubborn.

"That's right," I smiled. "That's right, Dean." I hugged him tight, letting him cry some more. Manning had nearly killed him. He had brought my brother to the brink of madness. He'd broken him. The proof was in the tears soaking my shirt.

"It's okay, it's okay, Dean. It's okay. It's the truth. You know that, huh?" I asked gently. He nodded, his fingers clenching my shirt. "Shh…"

The door opened behind me and we both jumped.

"Sorry," Bobby mumbled. He set the bowl he had carried in on the nightstand next to me.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" He asked. I nodded and carefully lowered Dean back onto the bed. I stood and followed him to the doorway.

"What is it?" I asked. Bobby scratched the back of his neck before he looked at me.

"What rooms did you see at the loony bin?" He asked quietly.

"I saw a cafeteria and…I think it was where they did electro shock therapy." I swallowed. Bobby nodded.

"Yeah, I saw a few more."

He told me about a dark room, pitch black when the door was closed. It was small and the temperature was at least ten degrees cooler than the rest of the place. He asked a passing patient and said it was called The Hole.

Bobby saw the showers too. A concrete wall that was still wet at the far end, a drain in the middle and a fire hose still dripping with water. And the last room he saw that might be of importance to me was one whose walls were bloodstained. Clubs hung on the walls, caked in blood. He said when he saw Dean's bruises he was pretty sure they'd match the kind of wounds those clubs give.

Now it was confirmed. Manning was a dead man.

"Just thought you should know, kid." Bobby said. He turned and walked out of the room. I sat back down next to him. He'd get better, I knew that. I just wasn't sure if he'd ever be the same again.

~*~

He accepted the soup Sam was giving him. He wished he would move faster. He was so hungry, but he knew Sam was doing what was best for him.

His head pounded, his body shook with chills from his fever that was slowly starting to break. Every bruise on his body throbbed in time with his heart. The burns from the tazers were a constant agony and he wanted to sleep so desperately…

But he couldn't sleep. If he slept he was sure he'd have nightmares. He hated nightmares. Especially when he wasn't strong enough to hide the fact that he had had any.

Saying that a demon killed his mom and dad was hard, unbelievably hard. And after he said it he waited fifteen minutes before he was sure he wouldn't be punished because of it. He wanted to forget The Asylum with all of his might, but it would not go away. Every breeze that made him shiver threw him back in dark rooms, against concrete walls being sprayed with razor blades. Every time Sam's hand moved he expected it to come at him, striking him for something he said or did.

The conscious part of his mind told him that Sam would never hurt him. The subconscious part told him that everyone could hurt him and would because he deserved it.

The soup filled him up and made him warm, for awhile. Sam helped him lie back down and started rubbing his forehead again.

"You need to sleep." He said. Dean shook his head, his eyes begging his younger brother.

"Pl-please, Sammy, please, no." He whimpered.

"Hey, hey, hey," Sam said, brow creasing. "Dean, you have to sleep, you have to," Dean shook his head again. "I'll be right here, okay? You'll be alright." Dean grabbed his brother's hand to reassure himself.

"It's okay," Sam repeated. "It's alright, I promise."

Dean relaxed, as much as he possibly could, and slowly let his eyes close.

~*~

Dean's eyes flew open, his breath heavy, Manning's cackling still ringing in his ears.

"No! No, no, no, no, not again!" He screamed. Sam jumped awake from his doze, and looked down at his distressing brother. He squeezed Dean's hand tighter and put his other hand on his forehead.

"Hey, Dean, it's alright!" Sam exclaimed. "Shh…It's okay." Dean inhaled deeply, gaining his composure and lowering his heart rate.

"Sammy?" Dean croaked.

"Shh, I'm here, it's alright." Sam assured. The effects of the dream were starting to wear off. He was slowly starting to relax. There was a long lapse of silence. Dean started dozing again.

He vaguely heard the door open but was too far gone.

"I've got him," Bobby said. "Go get some rest, kid."

"But-" Sam protested.

"Just for a few hours. He'll be alright." Bobby said. Sam gave Dean's hand another squeeze before releasing it. Dean wanted to protest but the fog was too thick. Bobby sat down, looking at Dean. His eyes had closed, but he wasn't asleep. Dean's fever had spiked, he could feel it. He was getting colder, his body started to ache even more and his eyes blurred over.

"It's gonna be alright, Dean." Bobby said, placing the back of his hand on Dean's forehead, noting his temperature.

"It hurts," Dean moaned softly. "It hurts, Dad."

Bobby stopped short, making sure he understood what Dean had just said. Dean's eyes were closed, his face leaning into Bobby's hand.

"I know it hurts, Dean. It's gonna be alright," Bobby lifted Dean's head and tipped two more Tylenol and a sip of water into his mouth. "That should help, alright?"

Dean slipped in and out of what could be called consciousness, his vision hazy, hallucinations coming in and out.

Bobby watched Dean carefully, making sure that his fever didn't climb to an alarming temperature and he stayed relatively stable.

That also meant he had to hear Dean talk in his delirious state.

"Mmno," Dean moaned. "No, stop, please. No, please it hurts…"

"Shh…It's okay, Dean." Bobby soothed.

"Saaam…" Dean cried, turning in his head into his pillow. "Saaammy…"

"It's alright, kid. It's okay, shh, it's okay."

"Saaammy!"

"Dean, it's alright," Bobby rubbed his forehead, trying to calm him down. "It's okay, relax, shh…"

Dean was writhing lightly, jerking in pain and fear that Bobby couldn't see.

"Sammy!"

"Shh…"

The door burst open behind him. Sam rushed forward, coming to his brother's side. Bobby got up and out of the way, at a loss for what to do.

"Sammy!" Dean's voice was raw, pleading, begging for Sam to help him.

"Dean, hey," Sam gathered his brother in his arms, hugging for reassurance that he was there. "I'm here, I'm here, shh, it's alright. It's okay, I'm here, you're safe. Shh…Listen to me. I'm here, you're safe, alright?" Dean leaned into Sam's warmth, thanking a God he didn't know for bringing him back. He still wasn't quite sure if this was a dream or not, but it hardly mattered. Sam was here, everything would be fine. Sammy was here.

Sam held his older brother, rubbing the back of his head.

"Shhh, I'm here now, Dean."

"'S cold, Sammy." He moaned. Sam draped one of the comforters that was covering him around his shoulders.

"Better?" Sam asked. Dean nodded. "You're gonna be alright, Dean. Everything's gonna be okay."

Sam fell asleep holding Dean up, his arms wrapped tightly around him and staying that way. Dean fell asleep against Sam's chest, clinging to him when a nightmare reared its ugly head. But Sam was always there, and Dean could always count on that.

Day 24

"Alright, that's it!" Dean said, shoving the covers back and standing on wobbling legs. "I am sick to death of bein' in this damn bed! I'm takin' a shower," Sam opened his mouth to protest. "And don't try and talk me out of it. If I have to sit and do nothing for another minute I'll go postal on you and Bobby both."

Sam smiled, he tried not to, but he did. Thankfully Dean didn't see him.

Dean snatched his bag off the floor, grumbling to himself.

His walls were nearly built back up. His mask was in tact and in full swing. Smirk coming and going from its home, cocky attitude showing when Sam tried to get all touchy feely. Oh yeah, he was back.

And Sam couldn't be happier. He knew that this would take more time than Dean was letting on to recover from this completely, but he had bounced back. Sam still had his brother. His closed off, smartass, pain in the ass big brother.

Dean reached for the knob that would take him out into the hallway when he paused. He swallowed hard, bit his lip, and turned around.

"Sam?" He said softly. Sam looked up. "Thanks." Sam smiled lightly.

"Anytime," He said. Silence followed, silence Dean hated. Thankfully, Sam rescued him. "Now go take a shower. Trust me, you need it." Dean smirked at him and walked into the hall and toward the bathroom where the shower was. The shower with nice, warm water that didn't hurt him. Other than never being able to be called crazy again, Dean was okay.

Day 35

"Breaking news tonight the head doctor at The Asylum in Dawson County, Robert Manning was reported missing this morning. Police searched his place of residence and The Asylum itself and found shocking evidence of patient abuse and horrifying methods to rid his patients of their sanity. As of now The Asylum is closed. There are no predictions as of yet where Manning might be, but if he is found he could be facing serious charges. More updates soon."

Day 567

"Dr. Robert Manning, the head doctor at The Asylum int Dawson County, has been declared dead by both friends and family members. After such a long time, they understand that Manning's body will show up soon or that he will come out of hiding. It seems that the mystery of Dr. Robert Manning's whereabouts would never be solved."

THE

END

--Thank you. Please review!--