It was like time stood still in the psych ward. The reality was that Sam had been wasting away in there for a little over a year. The four walls he was surrounded by remained that same, dull shade of white. There was quite a bit of turnover in the staff, but Sam failed to notice. Not many could last long at the depressing hospital, so they were always hiring. Most nurses and orderlies treated him the same. They forced on their plastic smiles and did their best to be polite to him. They all called for security whenever Sam had a violent outburst.
However, those had been more infrequent as of late. The surroundings of the hospital may have remained constant, but Samās sanity was disintegrating as the clock ticked. The longer Sam rotted away in the locked ward, the more and more he got lost in his hallucinations. He used to scream, but now Sam sat there unresponsive with a blank look on his face. His body was too exhausted to give much of a physical response anymore. Dean had a hard time getting through to his baby brother when he came in for visits.
Sam constantly saw Lucifer. His body was subjected to perpetual mental torture. Often times, his eyes werenāt seeing the hospital room anymore. Sometimes, it was like he was out. Lucifer took on Deanās form. It would always start out nice with Dean saying he finally found a cure, but matters would always take a dark turn by the end. Sam was back in the Cage, caught in the middle of two archangelsā taking out their frustrations on each other on him. His flesh burned off his bones until there was nothing but ash. His soul was set on fire from the inside. He was constantly suffocating on thick, black smoke, becoming further and further fragmented. Then he would be put back together, and the torture would start all over again. In the end, Sam was always in Hell.
The constant sleep deprivation was what made the hallucinations become so much more powerful. The doctors gave Sam all the sedatives his body could safely take without overdosing. Usually, it wasnāt enough to knock him out. It was so rare and random for his body to give into sleep. Lucifer did not often leave Sam, and Sam could no longer banish him on his own. It seemed as if the Devil was only keeping him alive enough to keep dragging out this pointless existence where he was hardly ever lucid in the real world.
Sam told himself Lucifer was in his headāthe aftermath of Hell. His broken soul made him see Lucifer. The real Lucifer was locked away in the Cage. However, it felt as if the real Lucifer was still torturing him, which made Sam suspicious. What if the actual Lucifer was somehow in his head and not some shadow? Perhaps it was possible for Lucifer to project himself in Samās mind, especially since Sam had been in the Cage at one point in time. They may have been bonded in a horrible way. There was also the period of time where Lucifer had used Sam as a vessel, which may have been another reason why they could have potentially been bonded.
The lights flickered on. A voice, which sounded far away, had called his name. An unintelligible groan left Samās mouth, which remained slack and partially opened. The man struggled to come back to the real world.
The back of a hand brushed against Samās scruffy cheek. It was Luciferās. "Good morning, starshine," he greeted, though it was in fact nighttime. "You almost looked peaceful taking that nap. Iām letting you see the hospital because I want you to re-connect with someone very dear to the both of us. Now stop drooling and say hello." Lucifer snapped his fingers in Samās face.
Sam was far too exhausted to swat at Lucifer. His body felt as heavy as cement. Lucifer wasnāt there in reality, or so Sam told himself. The idea was becoming harder and harder to believe. Lucifer was winning. Sam struggled to keep his eyes open. His vision was blurred and unfocused initially.
Green eyes, which were bright enough to burn Sam, became visible first. He knew those eyes, but the name did not ring a bell. āā¦Niā¦Nicoleā¦?ā Sam stammered. Then the rest of her face and dark locks came into view.
"Donāt let the hair throw you. Cāmon, Sam," Lucifer encouraged.
The answer finally dawned on Sam. āNoā¦ Rubyā¦ā Sam corrected in a low murmur. How could she be there? Was she there? She might have been another byproduct of his questionable mind. Nevertheless, Sam attempted to assert himself. āYouā¦ Youāreā¦ Youāre Rubyā¦ā he babbled.
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