HEY! Thanks for reading this means a lot. This takes place in season 7 during Sam's whole breakdown session. It's a Sabriel, Salucifer, and Destiel fic. (Dunno who Sam will be with yet).

WARNING: This is rated T for now, but that is subject to change. It contains references to rape and torture, and there is going to be cussing and violence.

I hope you enjoy. Please follow, favorite, and review!

Sam awoke with a scream, sweat drenching his skin and causing his t-shirt to cling uncomfortably to his chest, which was heaving up and down with each labored breath. His heart was practically trying to break loose from the entrapment of his ribcage. These were the only sounds in the lonely silence of the small hotel room. Images of his nightmare still rolled around in his memory, like a movie playing on repeat in his head. He was thankful that Dean was busy helping Bobby with a skinwalker case and not there to see his brother on the verge of frightened tears.

Ever since the wall had come tumbling down everything had gotten worse. The nightmares, the hallucinations, they had become more than just a nuisance and more of his own personal Hell on Earth.

Sam had dreamt of Hell.

He dreamt of a specific time. He had been in the cage, Lucifer and Michael would take turns torturing him, sometimes even coming together to create a horror that even now he was unable to comprehend. Sometimes they would be there, and sometimes it would seem as though they had faded into the black abyss that surrounded them. This time, however, had been different.

Michael had had his fill of infliction upon the poor soul of the hunter and had melted into the blackness. The pain was a combination of burning and freezing, sometimes it was almost impossible to tell which it was. He was passed screaming for the most part, as it was pointless. He was in Hell, and in a cage. Even if someone could hear him, instead of helping they would most likely pull up a chair and eat popcorn while watching him being torn apart.

He was lying there, writhing, waiting. That was when Lucifer came. Sam cowered, waiting for Lucifer to bring forth the flames, to rip at flesh that technically was not there. It was strange how that worked. Though he no longer was bound to his body, he was still Sam. He felt as though nothing had changed, and appeared as though nothing had changed. So every wound felt real, every burn ached, and the fear was white and pure. He waited… and Waited…

And waited.

However, instead of that expected agony he felt rough hands on his body. Lucifer flipped Sam so that his back was exposed. He ran those hands all over his body and Sam shuddered. He knew exactly what was to come next. He tried to get away, he tried to scream, but it was all pointless.

Sam tried to shake away the memory of his dream, climbing out of bed and shuffling to the tiny bathroom. He repeatedly splashed cold water on his face, washing away the beads of sweat. He peeled off his damp t-shirt and threw it to the side, staring at his disheveled reflection in the mirror.

"Reminiscing our time together?" An all too familiar voice broke the silence. Sam felt both fear and annoyance at the sound of Lucifer's voice, as he knew this was simply a hallucination.

"Shut up," he threatened.

"Oh, Sammy, come on. Don't pretend you don't enjoy my company,"

"You aren't real," he grunted through clenched teeth, turning to meet the gaze of a smiling devil.

"You keep saying that yet," he gestured around, "here I am!"

"I said to leave me the hell alone," he voice trembled slightly.

"Oh Sammy, it's that fire that… dominance that made me want you so badly. I just couldn't keep my hands off you," although mocking and playful, there was something sinister in the way he spoke, and his stomach bean to churn. He did not want to have that conversation, especially not with Lucifer, and so he simply ignored him.

Sam walked out of the bathroom and grabbed a beer out of the mini-fridge which Dean kept stocked at all times. He took a long gulp of the heavenly alcohol, planning to drink away his insanity.

"Tsk Tsk Sammy, self-medicating?" Lucifer frowned with exaggerated disappointment, "Then again, I suppose it isn't too surprising. After all, your brother is a drunk, Bobby is a drunk, even your pathetic father liked to drink himself into oblivion when reality was too much," he ticked each person off on his fingers.

"Shut up," he repeated.

"It's no wonder why your family is so broken and pitiful. When you can't deal with what life hands you, you drink. You should really consider an AA meeting,"

"I said shut up!" He roared. Without warning he threw his beer at Lucifer who disappeared before it neared him. The bottle smashed against the wall, broken glass and beer soaking the bed.

"Temper Sammy, temper," Lucifer smiled from the opposite side of the room. Before Sam could do or say anything else, another voice sounded, one he knew was real.

"Sam?" Castiel asked. Sam was comforted by the sight of that all too serious expression and trench coat. He had to fight off the urge to hug and thank the angel for saving him from himself.

"Uh… Hey Cas," he mumbled, suddenly appearing very embarrassed.

"What happened?"

"I…" He searched his mind for any excuse that wouldn't give away his mental instability, but it was too late.

"It's getting worse," Cas said with a downcast gaze.

"Yeah,"

"Worse? I thought we were just starting to have fun," Lucifer purred in the corner. Sam ignored him.

"How bad?"

"Bad enough," Sam shrugged.

"Have you told Dean?"

He shook his head.

"You should te-"

"No Cas, if he knew it would make things worse. He can't do anything so all it would do it make him worry. I'd rather just keep this quiet for now, you know? Besides… He would blame you,"

"As well as he should. This is my fault, I'm sorry Sam," the angel looked incredibly sad. Castiel continued to blame himself for Sam's condition, regretting knocking down the wall that had kept memories of hell at bay. He had promised to replace it, but by the time he was back to his normal, awkward angel self, it was far too late. The wall had not only been knocked down, but completely obliterated. There was nothing to fix, and now he was left with memories too intense for his mind to handle.

"No, come on, you didn't know what you were doing,"

"Yes, Sam, I did. That is why I deserve your hatred. I understand why you cannot forgive me, what I did was… An abomination," he practically choked on the word, his blue eyes flickered to those of the younger Winchester and waited for him to yell, to perhaps even throw a bottle at him. He fully believed he deserved it.

"Well I'm forgiving you okay?" He truly did not blame him for what was happening.

"Oh Sammy! What a saint you are!" The devil exclaimed.

"I do not deserve your forgiveness," he shook his head.

"He's right you know. He is the reason your noodle is all messed up, the reason I'm here right now. If it were not for him, you'd probably be out there right now, with your brother, doing what you do best. Instead you have to fake illnesses so that your precious brother doesn't find out about your little problem," Lucifer taunted.

Sam said nothing and only shot him a glare.

"Whoo! If looks could kill!"

"Deserving or not, I do. There isn't a point in dwelling on that. We'll find a way to get the wall replaced and I'll be alright,"

"Dean sent me here to check on you, what should I tell him?"

"Tell him I'm managing, if you tell him I'm fine he won't believe you."

"If you ever need anything Sam, just pray," Castiel said, and with that he was gone.

"Alone again, whatever shall we do?" Lucifer was practically bouncing on the bed excitedly.

"How about you leave me the hell alone?" Sam suggested sarcastically.

"Oh Sam! You wound me! We have a bond now, you and I. We've shared Hell, my cage, a mind, and our bodies. How many other people can say they have made love to the devil?"

"You… Raped me," He gulped.

"Oh Sammy, just keep telling yourself that,"

"What do you mean he's gotten worse?" Dean crossed his arms and stared at the angel with confusion.

"He threw a bottle against a wall. His hallucinations appear to be more severe than before," Cas knew he was going against what Sam said, but he also knew Dean needed to know the truth.

"Shit," Dean cursed.

"If we do not find a way to help him soon he will be lost,"

"Lost? You mean like lost in his mind? In his hallucinations?" Dean wondered, terrified at the thought of his brother being trapped in his own personal hell.

"Lost as in dead. He doesn't appear to be sleeping and clearly he has been eating less. His life force will eventually deteriorate and he will die. He needs food and sleep,"

Dean swallowed bitterly at the thought of losing his brother. He had seen Sam die before, a couple of times, and he himself had died over 100 times. Yet no matter how many times they were separated, it never got easier. The thought of Sammy dying, whether the chances of him coming back were good or not, was just as painful and hard as ever.

"Well what the hell do we do?"

"I don't know,"

"Dammit Cas!" Dean slammed his fist against the hood of his Impala.

"I can't do anything Dean, you know that," Cas kept his voice calm and even.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just… I can't lose him. He's my little brother, I can't lose him, not like this," tears pricked his eyes and both men undoubtedly heard the tremor of his voice. That was when Castiel did something entirely uncharacteristic. He stepped forward and embraced the hunter in front of him. At first, Dean just stood there, a little shocked by what was happening, but after a few seconds he was hugging him back.