By: Karen B.

Summary: The wall has come down. As promised, Sam is left a drooling mess. With the help of Castiel, Dean does the only thing left he can do. If the mountain will not come to Mohammed…

Disclaimer: Not the owner. Just a kooky dreamer.

Rated: Sci-fi / oddity adventure.


Sam was going to die if I didn't bring him out of his head. Out of the nightmare; which was no nightmare at all. So, I begged Castiel and when that didn't work, I choked the angelic bastard out until he reluctantly agreed. If he could zap our entire bodies into another place and time, he sure as there's a stick up his ass, could zap my soul anywhere.

"There are many difficulties here, Dean, I am still against this," Cas warned for the fortieth time.

"I don't care," I said for the forty-first time.

"Do you understand? You and Sam, both, could die in the process."

"I don't care." (Forty-two times.) Breezing past Cas, I sat on my brother's bed. Slipped one hand behind Sam's neck and brought his lolling head upward. Peering into his wide-open and vacant hazel eyes, I tried for a smile. "It's going to be okay. I'm coming for you, Sammy," I whispered. "You hear me? I'm coming for you. Going to get you out of this mess." I lay him back against the pillows and waited for a change. For Sam to blink or twitch. Tell me through telepathy what a jerk I was being for even thinking of this. I got nothing, but more of the same. Sam, staring blankly. His breathing rapid like he'd been running for days, yet he hadn't moved a muscle. It made my flesh crawl. I pulled the blanket higher up over him and ran my hand through his hair. "I won't leave you, Sam. I can fix this," I said with confidence I didn't have, then stood and took one step over, dropping down flat on my back onto my own bed.

Castiel sat next to me. "Dean. I might not be able to bring you back. You could die in your sleep."

"I don't care!" I yelled. (Forty-three.)

"It is not fair to Sam to keep him this way." Cas glanced at Sam then back at me. "Maybe it is time for you to let go, Dean," he spoke the words softly, eyes not leaving mine.

I furrowed my brow. I'd cared for Sammy from the day he was born. Nothing in our lives was ever fair. Wasn't fair we lost our mom, lost our dad - both to a demon. Wasn't fair we were forced to live this life. Breathe this life. Wasn't fair we didn't get to be the cookies and milk, drag the Christmas tree home sort of family. We knew things. Things that most people would never opt to know. Life was a bitch and fair was bullshit. I was sick of fair. Fair wasn't in charge here. I was. Fair could go fuck itself.

I wanted to scream at Cas, but kept calm. "Going after Sam." I stared over at my virtually blind, deaf, mute and unresponsive little brother.

The wall had broken three days ago. Right out of the blue. The whole friggin' wall of Sam came down like a house of cards.

We were next to each other, leaning up against the passenger door of the Impala at a rest stop. Sam was drinking a cup of coffee. A lousy cup of coffee, when suddenly he turned to me. All teary-eyed.

"What's with you?" I pushed off the Impala, coming to stand in front of him.

Sam, he didn't say a word. Was as if he didn't understand what was going on. And then I didn't understand what was going on. His eyes went blank and his coffee cup slipped from his hand, splattering to the ground.

"I..." Sam made a weird gurgle-like sound. "I can't..."

Before I knew what was happening, all his strength drained away and he fell into my arms. Like he was trying to hug me one last time.

"Son of a bitch." I tried to keep him upright. Secure his neck that wobbled like it was broken; at the same time grabbing hold of the rest of Sam's body as he convulsed and contorted against me. I knew this would happen again. Knew that wall woudn't hold forever, but... "Not again. Not another episode, dude." Sam slithered out of my grasp. "Not this soon," I yelled, trying to hold on to his rebelling body. Helpless as Sam hit the ground bucking all over the coffee-splattered pavement. "Sam!" I screamed his name, dropping to my knees. Trying to gain control of him. "Easy. Easy, bro." I rolled him on his side and pressed his back up against the passenger side tire, trying to help hold him steady.

While hell riled inside of Sam, I begged. "Sam, stop. Please." Three minutes. "Sam, stop." Four minutes. "Don't." Four and a half minutes. "Stop it!" Five long minutes past before Sam stopped, turning into a giant lump of nothingness. His face bruised from scrapping against the pavement, much as I tried to buffer him.

"Sam, don't do this. Don't you pull this crap." I traced a finger along his slack mouth, staring into his blank face as the minutes tick-tocked on by. Knowing this episode was different. Knowing Sam was living in hell. "Hold on, Sam. You have to hold on." I took him by the arm and squeezed hard enough to leave a red mark. "Come on." I grit my teeth, digging fingernails into his skin. Desperate for a response. Even a pain-filled one. Sam lay wilted and limp. "Okay. Fine. Have it your way, dude," I growled, trying to keep my voice tough, my sanity in tack.

I'd wrangled Sam into the car. Took some time to get his bendy, relaxed body strapped into the passenger seat.

"Sam?" I brushed his hair away from his face. It creeped me out, knowing behind those unblinking big, round hazel eyes lay hell. And in hell - lay Sam. There was nothing I could do. No hospital to take him to. No miracle cure. I hit the road, keeping a hand pressed to his chest. "We'll deal with this, pal." I kept glancing over. Searching Sam's face. He had to be in there. Had to hear me. Had to come out of it like last time. Several miles down the road, Sam still wasn't in there and he didn't come out. Sam was stone and wood. Cold and stiff. What if he didn't come back to me like last time. What if this was it. What if Sam's last words to me were...were...were...I can't. "Sam!" I screamed as loud as I could, balling my fist and giving his chest a hard thump. "Yes you can, Sam. Yes, you can. And yes! You will!" I bellowed.

I got no response.

There was nothing more to say. Steeling my nerves, I took him to the closest motel room. A motel room designed for Ompa-lumpa's. The wall to wall orange shag, with orange curtains to match swirled around me, making me feel dizzy. I drug Sam across the room. Flopping all two hundred and thirty pounds of him - like a rag doll - onto that bed, and on that bed is where he'd stayed. Melted into the mattress. Immobile. Muscles rigid. Bodily functions involuntary. Every now and again, life-threatening seizures burst through Sam. Legs kicking, arms flailing, back arching so damn violently I was scared to death he'd be torn apart - from the inside out. Sam was alive, but I took no comfort in the mangled twitches of my brother - wouldn't mistake the seizures for life - this was no life for Sam. His body was here - but nobody was home.

As promised, my kid brother was left a drooling, quivering mess.

What were my choices here?

I could have him hooked up to life support - futile measures at keeping him alive. I didn't call that living. Could leave him as he was - I was absolutely not going to sit by and watch Sam die slowly. Wasting away. I could get down on my knees and pray to a God who was on some beach - somewhere. Never worked before. Still wasn't working. God liked his beach too much to leave. I could put a bullet in Sam's head. Then mine. It was at that point I thought of one last ditch.

Maybe I'd watched one too many episodes of Star Trek or the Sci-Fi channel or some shit, but I came up with an idea. An idea Cas said might be, as he put it, 'inconceivable'. But I was willing to put any might be, inconceivable or not, to the test.

If Sam couldn't come to me. I was going to go to Sam.

"Dean." Castiel took me by the shoulders and gave a small shake bringing me out of my thoughts.

I turned from Sam, staring into the angel's worried face. "I'll wake up." I gave Cas a reassuring smile. "And so will Sammy."

"As powerful as I know the soul is...we do not know if that is true."

"Has to be," I said confidently, glancing one more time at Sam. "We've got you here on this side of Oz making sure of that, right?"

"Dean, if you become distracted you will be trapped as well. It will be easy to lose focus. To think you are dreaming. Forget what you are there for. You must stay lucid. Alter what Sam is seeing. Dictate to him what happens next. You have to remember… inside Sam's head, you can do what you want. Go where you want. You will become a part of his memories. A part of his hell. His soul."

"I get it."

"Do you, as you say 'get' that Sam's soul is being depleted with every second he remains trapped inside himself. He will be weak. Not be of much help. You will have to be strong enough for the both of you. Pull the both of you out. Or you will become just as lost - right along side of Sam."

Better that than any of the other alternatives. Being lost in the labyrinth of my brother's big brain wasn't that bad …I could think of a lot worse places I'd been.

"I get it, Cas." I gripped the bedspread with both hands, fingers trembling. "Send me over the rainbow to munchkin land already," I said softly.

Castiel's lips twitched and he gave the barest glimpse of a smile. "Concentrate, Dean. Keep in control. Stay focused. If you stay in control, you can do this. Otherwise…"

I jerked up off the pillow and grabbed Yacky Doodle by his fugly tie. "I'll get disoriented and it's the big dirt nap. For both me and for Sammy," I stated firmly. "Cas, for the last time - I know." I flopped back to the pillow. "We're wasting time. Time Sam does not have. Let's catch us a tornado, Dorothy."

"I do not understand that reference."

"Beam me down, Scotty."

Castiel cocked his head like an untrained puppy.

"Dude! Put me into Sam's head. Right now."

Cas glared at me like I was sniper-in-the-bell tower-crazy.

"Just do it," I sighed, staring up at a brown stain on the ceiling and going back to gripping the bedspread as if that would keep me grounded in the here and now.

"One more thing, Dean. If you think or feel like you are dreaming, try to remember not all dreams are black and white. The demonic kind always appear in color. It may help you establish where you are. Distinguish between real and unreal. Also, I think if you stay clear headed and listen hard, you can communicate with me. Hear my voice. I can try to direct you. But you must stay present in mind."

"Easy enough," I muttered.

"Think of a word that will let me know when you and Sam are ready to be extricated. Do not say this word out loud, Dean. Just think the word. When you are ready you may speak it aloud, and i will..."

"Beam us up," I said, thinking quickly of a word. "Okay, and the magic word is..." I squinted up at Cas.

Cas stared strangely at me, obviously getting the word. He raised his left hand, two fingers gently touching the center of my forehead, his right hand splayed over my heart. "Deep breath, Dean."

I inhaled.

There was a buzzing in my ears and a pounding in my chest. Felt like I was shrinking away from this world. It kinda scared me.

"Sammy?" My eyes flicked over to the other bed. I wasn't sure what was happening. Felt weird. Floaty. I reached a hand out searching for Sam. It was the only thing I could focus on. Sam. "Sammy," I called out to him again. He wasn't there. I couldn't find him. Feel him. The bed gone. Everything was growing dark and heavy and my hand fell sluggishly at my side.

"Find the wall, Dean. There you will find Sam. Break him free. Bring him back," Castiel chanted as my eyes closed and I sank into deep unconsciousness.