Sam was doing terribly. Castiel broke down the wall built up in his mind protecting him from the memories of the cage. Now they haunted him like a disease. Four days without sleep. Four days and then he was hit with a car.

Admitted into the mental hospital. Dean was beyond pissed about the authorities essentially calling his baby brother a ‘nut-job’ and sticking him with all other kinds of crazies. Sure, Sam was traumatized, but Winchesters didn’t deal with trauma professionally. They fumbled around independently until they figured it out.

A “full psychotic breakdown” the specialist called it. The words “Religious psychosis” and “schizophrenia” were tossed around too.

Lucifer haunted his psyche, flinches and twitches that would set off the sane haunted him too. A persistent buzzing of Lucifer’s taunts convincing him he never left the cage. None of this is real, Lose hope, Sammy-boy.

You are also in the mental hospital. For reasons you refuse to disclose. You see the new patient…poor guy. Looks exhausted.

He had intense circles beneath his tired eyes, his face screwed up into a glower. His deadened eyes that were reddened at the edges flickered up to your face.

New friend, Sammy—How exciting. Lucifer’s voice boomed at speakerphone levels of volume into his head. Sam restrained a wince. He didn’t want to scare you off too.