Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the boys.

This story takes place after "Appointment in Samara." Sammy has had his soul back for a few months now and slowly he starts to remember things, gruesome things and Dean is worried that Sammy's walls are breaking down. I have only written a few chapters thus far and obviously have no idea where the show will go when it starts back up for the latter half of this season or if Sam will get any of his memories back, but this sort of follows on the pretense that he does start remembering and kind of delves into what he starts remembering. Just to warn you, there may be a some foul language and some foul imagery.



The world slipped into darkness as Dean Winchester slowly pulled his Impala into the parking lot of the Blue Rose Hotel. The place looked like a shit hole, but he was too tired to give a dam. If they had beds in each room, that was all that mattered. Sam sat in the passenger seat next to him, barely even acknowledging the fact that they were pulling in anywhere. He was half asleep as it was, his head cocked against the window on the door.

"Sammy." Dean said, trying to rouse him. "Sam, I'm going in to get a room." He put the Impala in park and reached for the door.

Sam's head jerked up as he heard the creak of the door swaying opened. He tried to focus, his eyes scanning the area he could see through the front windshield. Small rain drops were striking it ever so slowly. "Dean?" He almost seemed to question. His head turned to the driver's door, which was still open.

Dean bent down, showing his face in the doorway for a mere moment. "I'm going in for a room. Be right back." He closed the door and walked off in front of the car.

"Yeah, ok." Sam grumbled. He hadn't slept much the last few nights and his energy was almost non existent. He sat up straight trying to focus himself. On top of being near the limits of pure exhaustion, he and Dean had just finished a job in Ewen, Michigan. They didn't venture into the upper peninsula often and all though it had been a nice drive, the job was almost horrifying. A demon was torturing children for god only knew what reasons. He and Dean didn't let it live long enough for them to find out.

It wasn't more than a few minutes and Dean came from the office, a set of keys dangling in his hand. He climbed back into the old car and started the engine. "We're in room twenty-eight, around back." He said.

Sam didn't reply. His eyes were focused on the rain that was falling harder now against the windshield. His eyes grew heavy. Maybe he would finally get some much needed sleep. He took in a deep breath as Dean directed the car into a spot behind the Motel. Room twenty-eight sat directly in front of them. Sam let out his breath and went for the door.

Both brother's stepped into the rain and went to the trunk, each pulling a bag out. They went to the room and Dean unlocked the door. The stench caught their noses and both brothers made a funny face. To Sam, it smelled like an old room that had been closed up for far to long. To Dean, it smelled like some dirty old guy. Sam reached for the light switch and both brothers examined the room.

On one wall were too full size beds, a nightstand between them with a lamp. A TV remote was chained to the nightstand. Across from the beds was a dilapidated wood dresser that seemed to barely hold up the old TV that sat on it. The carpet was almost a plush lime green, while the walls were a dark wood paneling. The room wasn't great, but it would suffice for one night. It wasn't as if they stayed in the best of places anyways.

Sam dropped his bag with a hard thud and face planted into the nearest bed. Slowly he forced himself to the pillows. He hadn't bothered with the covers or even to take off his wet hoodie and shoes. He sighed and reached his hand around one of the the pillows.

"Gee, good night to you too Sammy." Dean mumbled to himself. He went over to the other bed, heaving his bag in front of it. He sat, glancing back at Sam. As much as Sam tried to hide it, Dean knew he was having trouble sleeping lately and couldn't help but wonder if things were alright with his brother. Please let the barriers hold, he thought to himself, praying his brother would never have to relive the memories of his soul being locked in the cage with Michael and Lucifer. God only knew what kind of torture Sam's soul endured in hell.

It had been only a few months since Death had given Sam his soul back and when he had done so he was sure to tell Sam not to scratch at the barriers keeping the memories of hell at bay. Dean was more than gracious at Death for putting up the barriers in Sam's mind, but he didn't know how long his brother would go before he would start to get curious.

That same day, when Sam finally came to, Dean had been quite surprised to see a familiar look in his brother's eyes. It was a look he had grown to know over the years as the true and real Sammy. His hazel eyes were no longer empty as they had been before. Though Sam had seemed drained, emotionally and physically, he was finally back. Sam knew all about hell, knew all about being trapped there, yet somehow he had no real memories of being there. He didn't know why and Dean didn't seem to have any answers for him. Dean wasn't about to tell Sam about the barriers and risk him poking at them.

Sam rolled onto his back, letting out a soft moan in the process. Dean broke free from his thoughts and stood, stepping to Sammy's bed. He took his brother's shoes off and let them drop to the floor before he decided to settle into bed himself. He flicked off the lamp and forced away any worry he had for Sam so he could try and get some sleep that night.

Sam's eyes burst open at some point during the night and as they tried to adjust to the darkness, he wondered how long he had slept. He spotted the lump on the other bed, knowing it was Dean. His eyes found the nightstand and the small clock on it, blaring in bright green numbers. 3:30 he thought to himself. He sighed mentally and rolled over, closing his eyes. Maybe he could get back to sleep. He pushed his thoughts away, but they just kept rushing back to him.

His eyes opened again with a start. He was nearly panting, though he really had no idea why his body was doing so. He tried to slow himself, tried to take even breaths. He felt a headache coming on. His hand went to his skull, rubbing his temple gently. In the back of his mind he felt something, something he hadn't really felt before. Mentally, he tried to reach for it and the pain of his headache worsened immediately. In that instant, he almost felt as if his brain had struck a brick wall. He groaned and tried to push the pain away.

After a few minutes, the pain subsided and his eyes grew heavy. He closed them, letting the sleep take hold once more. His thoughts were still running rampant though, keeping him from a peaceful, resting sleep. Images began to form in his mind.

He felt ice cold and flaming hot all at the same time. He tried to move, but his arms were pinned, so were his feet. He tried to twist his head around to see where he was, but aching pain surged through his body as he did. Everything seemed pitch black anyways. His mouth was dry and his stomach gurgled. The noise nearly seemed to echo. He felt something touch him, something pushing on his chest.

In a mere instant, he felt twinging pain, like several knives were pushing in his chest. He didn't want to scream, but he couldn't help himself. He had never felt such pain in his life. Something was tightening around his heart, squeezing it, pulling it. His screams grew louder, until his breath stopped. His body shuddered and he felt a cool breeze flowing into him, into his chest. His chest heaved up and down, but he couldn't catch any breath.

A bead of sweat formed on Sam's forehead, slowly trickling down. His breathing grew heavy and inconsistent. He groaned loudly as the pain took hold.

Dean shot upright in a panic. He heard something, not realizing it was Sam until he had flicked the lamp on. His brother was covered in sweat. His head was thrashing around as if in some sort of nightmare.

Blinding, searing light formed around him. Sam's eyes shut tightly, trying to block it out. He didn't understand how he was still alive when he hadn't even been breathing. His eyes opened, trying to adjust to the light, but there was a figure hovering over him. The figure blocked some of the light so Sam could see. In the figures hand was bloody heart. It beat once, twice, three times before it stopped. The hand holding it squeezed tighter, crushing the heart with ease, blood dripping from his hand as he did so. Sam's eyes grew wide with fear and he managed one last scream.

"No." Dean heard as he made his way over to his brother. He started to shake Sam, trying to wake him. Not a moment later, Sam's eyes burst open and his hand went to his chest. His breathing was still erratic, but slowly he tried to calm himself.

"Sammy?" Dean questioned. His green eyes filled with fear assuming the worst. "What's going on?

Sam's eye scanned the room, almost expecting to see the strange figure standing in a corner or something. It wasn't there. "I...I don't know." He replied slowly.

So, that's the first chapter. It's not the longest chapter and I can't guarantee how long any of the chapters will be, but I would appreciate any comments you might have. I have written all kinds of fan fiction about the show Charmed, but this is my first story about Sam and Dean.