I Don't Know How I Got Here.

Summary. . . . . . . . . . . A short extended scene to "Meet The New Boss" with a hint of spoilers for "Hello Cruel World."

Disclaimer. . . . . . . . . . All characters belong to Kripke and the CW.

A.N. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Okay, so I added more to this as I felt it needed a little bit extra. The start of this chapter is still the same, it's at the end it changes, a Dean scene that hopefully helps. Thanks to everyone for all the feedback. Peanut x

He walked quickly down the hallway, only one thing on his mind, getting to the storage closet, retrieving the blood, and getting back as fast as possible to make sure they didn't miss their deadline; they couldn't afford to, too many innocent lives were at stake, hell Cas' life was at stake. Reaching the closet, he opened the door and took out the jar Cas had said would be there. He turned without taking his eyes off the red viscous liquid, only realizing there was someone else in the room with him when a voice that terrorized his every thought rang out.

Everything around him stilled, his body and mind froze, only his heart pounded against his chest gave him any indication he was still alive. He tried to listen as Lucifer spoke, tried to answer, managing to squeak out "you're not real" only to totally lose it when his nemesis replied "no this, this is what's not real."

"You're lying." Sam managed to stutter out. "This is just another memory seeping through the cracks."

"Am I? Is it?"

"Yes." Sam tried to shout back, his voice breaking with lack of conviction. "I'm. . . . . . . . I'm free. . . . . . . . . . I'm with Dean. This isn't real. You're not real."

"Are you sure about that Sammy? How sure? How sure are you that this is not real? That this is not reality?" He moved to lean nonchalantly against the wall, his head crooking to one side, tilting slightly to look up at Sam as he added. "This is all imaginary Sam; this place, your brother, Bobby, and Castiel. All made up by me. You're still in the cage Sam, you never got out, this is all just another form of torture, a way to mess even more with your mind, the best I've come up with yet."

"No! No! That's not true, it can't be true."

"Oh, but it is, and deep down you can feel that it is." He paused and moved his body away from the wall, coming to stand behind a frozen Sam once more, before adding. "Tell me Sammy, what do you think you have in your hands? What do you think is in that jar?"

"Purgatory and virgin blood."

"Hmmmmm, really? The things your feeble minded brain comes up with."

"What do you mean? What is it?" Sam was panicking now, a shiver of dread snaking its way throughout his body, as a thought entered his mind; a thought he hoped wasn't true.

"Why, its demon blood Sam; thick with that power you crave, and I want you to drink it, I need you to drink it."

"What? Why?"

"Why do you think Sam? You were born to be my vessel, your whole life was manipulated and manufactured so that your destiny would always come true, would always lead you to me. Being down here, being locked up doesn't change that. I still want to ride your meat suit Sammy."

"No! No! It's not real. It's not real." Sam's right hand went to his head, trying to massage away the confusion he felt there, but it was no use, Lucifer's face, his voice, his laughter, swirled around him, confusing him all the more. He relaxed his hand that still gripped tightly to the jar, moving to release it and bring his other hand up to his pounding head, but a pestering thought stopped him. He stood there, eyes blinking rapidly, mouth opening and closing, what if Lucifer was lying? What if this whole conversation was unreal? What if the jar really did contain the blood they needed to open the doorway to Purgatory? He couldn't be sure of anything anymore; couldn't rely on his addled mind to tell him what was real and or not; couldn't be of any use to Dean and Bobby whilst he was like this. Placing the jar of the floor, he turned quickly and fled Lucifer's image and voice dogging him all the way.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean ground out, his teeth bared, his jaws clenched so tightly he swore he could feel bones grinding. His voice echoed down empty, cavernous corridors, almost mocking him, daring him to shout out his brother's name; but he held his tongue, knowing that to do so would garner him no results. Sam was long gone, he could feel it, and Dean had no idea where, or even why his sibling had deserted them. A debate fleetingly passed through his mind, and he glanced once more down the dim and dank passageway before reluctantly turning and sprinting back the other way. Time, was after all, of the essence.

"Where's Sam?" Bobby inquired as Dean returned; jar in hand but minus the younger Winchester. "Is he okay? Did something happen? Has he had an incident?"

"I don't know!" Dean practically growled back.

"You don't know what? You don't know if he's okay? Or you don't know where he is?"

"Both!" Dean answered, not looking once at the older hunter, instead concentrating upon getting the blood sigils painted right upon the grime coated tiled walls.

"Dean. . . . . . . . . ." Bobby stopped the questions that desperately wanted to be spilled from within him, as Dean finally turned to face him; his face a stony stoic mask, but his eyes shimmering with a combination of fear and guilt.

"Bobby don't!"

"We should go find him, he could be remembering, he could be hurting."

"I know Bobby! God damn it, I know! But you heard Death, if we don't do this now, we won't get another chance. We have to put these souls back, if we don't who knows what will become of Cas, hell he could die and who knows how many others along with him."

"And what of Sam? He could die too; we don't know what these memories coming back will do to him. We don't know if he's strong enough to withstand them."

"I know that! But I also know that Sam would want us to finish this first, rather than look for him. He'd rather I make sure that the souls are returned, that Cas is safe, that nobody else dies, before I look for him."

"You're right! You're right, it is what Sam would want, but I aint gotta like it. C'mon, it's time.

Sam's hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, yet he felt nothing. The darkened scenery rushed past him as the stolen vehicle sped through the night, yet he saw nothing of it, his mind caught in yet another memory, instead of driving along, he was falling; falling into the hole, dropping down through the layers of the Earth, to the cage that lay open and awaiting him, to the torture he knew was to come. He wanted to scream, but he was falling so fast, and the air was rushing past him so quickly, it was all he could do to breathe.

He felt the change in the air, felt it gradually get hotter and hotter, could sense the terrifying fear and murderous hate and carnivorous lust. His arms began to flail in a vain effort to stop his descent, he couldn't do this, he'd made a mistake, he wanted to go back; but it was too late, he hit the floor hard, bones breaking, blood spewing from his mouth as all air was expelled from his lungs, but he had little time to scream as Lucifer was ripped and torn from his body and re-entered into his old vessel, and the two angels' assault of him began.

He should have known things wouldn't go so easily, should have been prepared for when things turned sour; but he wasn't, and it was only as Cas suddenly stopped walking, as the angel gasped out a warning to run, that the warning bells went off in his head. He grunted as he was thrown, landing heavily, the breath knocked out from his lungs, and he lay there gulping, trying to take in precious oxygen as Cas, or rather the things that now resided within him spoke.

He could do little but watch from the floor as a war raged within the angel, an internal battle of his own raging within himself. His natural instinct kept pushing to the front, his natural instinct to always help his family; but the betrayal the angel had done to him still cut deep within the oldest Winchester, and his reluctance to aid now was what was causing the battle within. A voice of reason though kept niggling at Dean's soul, a voice of reason Dean knew to come from his younger sibling; if Sam could forgive Cas, then surely Dean could too?

He shouted out Cas' name, tried to reason, tried to bargain, tried to get his former friend to battle, to fight the demons inside him, tried to convince him that he had done so once before, when he had come to Sam for help, that he could do so again; but as Cas' head rose, and Dean caught sight of the haughty smirk, and the taunting eyes, he knew this time he had lost. He still opened his mouth to try again though, only for it to close as Cas' hand moved once more and he was flung once again from one side of the room to the other, darkness surrounded him before he even hit the floor.

He didn't see Bobby's own ungainly flight, or the older hunter's body stopping as it crashed into the tiled wall. He didn't see the Leviathan controlled Cas start to move towards the exit. He didn't see the struggle that started to rage within the angel once more. He didn't see Cas win control, if only briefly, and quickly scrawl a message out for Dean, as to where his brother had fled, before losing control once more and vanishing.

He woke up later, groggy and in pain, but at least in one piece; woke up to the sound of Bobby groaning from across the room. Woke up to find what Castiel had left for him. Woke up needing to find Sam. He dropped a reluctant Bobby at their motel, before gunning the Impala, Sam was in trouble he could feel it, for now the rest of the world could wait.

He couldn't believe how relieved he felt when he finally opened the warehouse door; couldn't believe the sense of happiness he felt at seeing Sam standing and looking for the relative part unhurt; but that all changed as he asked his first question, and he witnessed just how unbalanced Sam truly was.

"Sam! Sammy! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Dean, I don't know how I got here?"

A.N. . . . . . . . . . . Did that help? Let me know. Thanks, Peanut x