A/N So, I normally don't really write AUs, but I'm a bit obsessed with Mental Hospital AUs ever since season seven happened. I have a bazillion ideas, and they're all one-shots. So I figured it would be easier to just compile them all under one story. Voila, this is the result. I'll update when I can. This one, is something that happened while I was trying my hand at a drabble... that just took off into something else. Whoops. Enjoy! :) ~Sammy

Every day it stays the same

Dean tugged on the sleeve of his white t-shirt, pulling the material until it was slightly frayed at the edges. The bed was too hard. The pillow was too clean. The walls were too blank. The green eyes were too lifeless.

Then the door creaked open, and Dean's head whipped up. A tall figure with shaggy hair entered the room, a tray in his hands, a dimpled smile on his face. Dean's jade eyes finally lit up, a spark of happiness flaring.

"Sammy. Where were you Sammy? I missed you."

Dean pushed himself off of his bed, and wrapped his arms around Sam, a wide grin on his face. Sam just barely managed to keep the tray up right in his hands. He patted Dean's back softly, used to this lavish display of affection. He gently guided Dean back down onto his bed, and put the tray down in front of him.

"Got you your lunch Dean, it's not so bad today. Grilled cheese and a chicken salad."

Dean laughed. "Don't be stupid Sammy. I'm not eating any rabbit food. I don't even know how you managed to get this tall just living off of plants. Little freak of nature, you are."

Dean bumped his shoulder against Sam's, and Sam's smile was a little less bright than it had been. "Okay then, at least eat the grilled cheese."

"Nah, I'm good Sammy. I'm not hungry. Did you eat yet?"

"No, but I will when you're done."

"You can have my food if you want Sam, I'm not hungry."

A sigh and a large hand running through long brown hair. "Dean, we've been over this. The food I bring here is for you, not me. I'll go grab a bite from the cafeteria later."

Dean pursed his lips and leveled a glare at Sam until the younger man's hazel eyes admitted defeat. "Fine. I'll eat your salad. Satisfied?"

Dean watched as Sam picked up a plastic fork and shoveled the salad into his mouth. Dean smirked. "See, I knew you were hungry. I know you better than you know yourself kiddo."

Sam huffed. "Alright, I ate. Your turn now."

Dean didn't move. Sam sighed, and then a sly grin slid across his face. "Are you sure you don't want it? It's got bacon."

Dean lurched forward and grabbed the sandwich, taking a huge bite, and smiling from around a mouthful of bread, meat and cheese. "Well, why didn't you say that before, Sammy? Jeez."

Dean practically inhaled his sandwich and downed half a glass of water before humming contentedly and leaning back against the padded headboard of his bed. Sam picked up the tray with one hand, patting Dean's shoulder with the other. "I've gotta go now Dean, but I'll be back later, okay?"

Dean twitched his hand in a half- wave goodbye. "Take your phone, and call me if you find anything, or if you need me."

Sam faltered, but tossed a shaky smile and Dean and nodded. "Yeah, sure. I'll do that, Dean."

As Sam turned to leave, the door was pushed open again. A black-haired man with bright blue eyes slipped inside, holding onto a clipboard. He looked up and smiled at Sam. "Hello Samuel."

"Good afternoon Dr. Novak."

"How is he?"

"I though he was doing better in the morning, but he's back to calling me 'Sammy' again. He made me eat his salad."

Dean raised his voice in indignation. "You were hungry, Sammy. Besides, I hate salads."

Sam turned back to the dark haired man. "See what I mean?'

Dr. Novak nodded. "Yes, I do. Thank you Samuel."

Sam cast a worried glance at Dean before hurrying out of the room.

Dean's emerald eyes lit up again as Dr. Novak sat down on the chair next to his bed.

"Dean."

"Hey, Cas."

"Where are we today?"

"St. Louis, Missouri."

"Why?"

"Haunted house. We're thinking that it might be a poltergeist. Sam's gone to the library to check the town records. When he gets back, we're gonna go interview the victims. You wanna help?"

A sigh. "I do not think I can."

"Oh come on, Cas. I thought you said that you wanted to be a hunter?"

"Mr. Winchester, please listen carefully to me. You are not in St. Louis. You're in Lebanon, Kansas. More specifically, you are in the Mann Letters State Psychiatric hospital. My name is not Castiel, it is Jimmy Novak. Sam is not your little brother. His name is Samuel Wesson, and he is a volunteer here. You do not 'hunt' monsters. They aren't real. You are sick, Dean. You have delusions and hallucinations, and we're trying to fix that. That's why you're here. To get better, not to hunt a poltergeist. Do you understand?"

Dean nodded, comprehension finally dawning upon him, but Dr. Novak still ran a hand over a weary face.

Because every afternoon, he asked Dean the same questions.

Every afternoon, he got the same answers.

Every afternoon, he was Castiel, angel of the Lord.

Every afternoon, Sam was Dean's little brother.

Every afternoon, Dean was a hunter, killing the things that go 'bump in the night'.

Every afternoon, he said the exact same words to Dean, he tried to explain.

Every afternoon, Dean would finally understand.

And then the next afternoon, Sam would walk in with Dean's lunch, and the same words would escape the young man's lips.

"Sammy. Where were you Sammy? I missed you."

Every afternoon, the bed was too hard, the pillows too clean, the walls too blank.

Every afternoon, those green eyes were too lifeless.

A/N Too much? Too less? Want more? Leave a review! :) ~Sammy