A/N! Hello everyone! Hope you're all doing great! Sorry for being gone for so long, but I had an exam period at uni! But now I'm back, and I haven't been idle! I loved 12x09, and I've written many individual one shots about it! You don't have to read them all, you can read whichever you like! This is the first one... I hope that you will enjoy it!
Special thanks to my awesome beta reader Geekyfangirl131, for helping me out and checking the story! I wouldn't be posting it without her!
I can't say more now however, for my own computer had to be fixed (again) so I'm posting this from a friend's computer! So, sorry for cutting this short! :)

Hope that you will enjoy it! A/N!

FULL SUMMARY!

Set during S12E09 "First Blood." What does it feel like, to be surrounded by silence? Sam and Dean find themselves locked up in isolation, and each one of them tries his best to cope with the situation... They have both been to Hell, so this shouldn't be so hard, right? Wrong.
It is hard, harder than anything else they have ever gone through before.
This is a story of what had been going on with the brothers while they were locked up, and of the why Dean ended up calling for Billie...

WARNINGS!

1)Spoilers for season 12.

2)Spoilers for Season 12 episode 09, "First Blood."

3)Established Relationship.

4)Established Sam/Dean (Wincest)

5)Mentions of Blood and Torture

6)Implied Lucifer/Sam Winchester.

7)Mentions of self harm! (Nothing much, or too graphic however!)

I do not own Supernatural, or any of its characters. The story is written for fun, no money are made by it.

"The sound of silence..."

Dean was lying still, back leaning on the thin, scratchy mattress of his cell, eyes on the ceiling. It had been more than four weeks since they had been thrown in these Goddamned cells, and Dean hadn't heard a human voice, other than the one of the guy who brought him food every day. "Chow time." Two words was all the green eyed man were allowed to hear, for over four weeks now. Chow time. Funny thing, isn't it? How those two little, seemingly insignificant words, were so important all of a sudden. They were more than important, they were vital for the green eyed man.

They marked the passing of yet, another day, they marked that he was still alive and still, relatively sane. So Dean needed those words like he needed oxygen, if not more. Sighing, Dean blinked, pressing a hand on his face. The lamp, which was enlightening the cell, made his eyes hurt and sting. It would never be turned off, and so Dean couldn't let his eyes fall close and sleep easily, and the rare times he would actually manage to let his eyes flutter close, his dreams were hellish and filled with Images of Lucifer torturing Sam.

And then, there was another problem. Dean had no way of distinguishing night from day. He didn't know what time it was when his eyes would close and he didn't know how long he had managed to sleep each time. He was completely powerless, deprived of all kinds of freedom, with no way to know what time of the day it was, or what day of the week it was. But the worst of all, was the silence. The cell was soundproof, its walls thick and cold, blocking all kinds of noise. There were many times, when Dean had been in Hell, that he had prayed for a few seconds, mere seconds, of silence.

Silence, yes, a break from all that noise, all those incoherent screams and howls. A break from that creepy sound of metal carving exposed bones, breaking them in the process. Yes, Dean had been praying for silence back then, but now, he couldn't stand it. It was surrounding him, and after a few days, Dean could swear that every sound he made, was echoing loud in his ears. His heartbeat, his inhales and exhales... The cracking of the old bed when he would sit on it, his own steps when he would be walking up and down in the cell... Everything was so silent and yet, so loud...

Dean bit his lip and blinked his eyes yet again, getting up from the bed. He took two slow steps, reaching the small mirror and looked at his reflection. He wasn't sure who was looking back at him however, for his green eyes were vacant and distant, covered with a veil of pure despair. "Cas..." Dean uttered, and felt a chill running down his spine at the sound of his own voice. It was rough and hoarse, for he hadn't spoken up aloud for... How long had it been? Dean turned his eyes on the wall next to the mirror and saw the marks he had made on it. He silently counted them and his heart sank. Thirty-five days. He hadn't really talked to anyone, in thirty-five days...

Clearing his throat, he swallowed hard and spoke again. "Cas, are you there? You got your ears on?" Dean muttered and then fell silent again. This wasn't the first time he was praying to Castiel ever since he and Sam had been thrown in prison, but now, more than any other time, he needed the Angel to answer back to him. This couldn't happen however, not anymore, and Dean was well aware of that. But just the thought that someone could be listening to his broken whispers, gave him hope all of a sudden. "I hope you do have your ears on, cause I... I need to talk to you man. It's been four weeks since the feds locked us up." Dean muttered, letting himself sink on the floor, his back leaning on the wall.

"Four weeks and five freaking days..." Dean continued and let his eyes close, the image of his best friend appearing before his closed eyelids. "Four weeks, five days and several hours Dean." The hunter imagined Castiel answering him at once. At the thought, a faint smile appeared on his face. "And I feel as though it's been years Cas... Years..." Dean said, pressing his hand on his eyes to hold back the tears. "Cas I... I'm telling you man, Hell was better than this... I know it'll sound insane, but it was better than this... Because then I... I knew it was worth it, you know? It was worth it, because Sam was top side and alive and free... But now..." The green eyed man paused then, in order to furl his knees and rested his chin on them.

"Now he is locked up and I don't know if he's alright, if he's hurt, if he's... If he is sane enough so as to not try anything stupid... He was having a hard time Cas, with Lucifer been back and roaming all over the country... And after we kicked him out of the President and back to the Cage, Sam... He almost collapsed..." Dean whispered, as images of what had taken place after Lucifer was defeated, passed before his closed eyes. "We did it Sammy..." Dean heard himself saying as he moved towards his brother, who was kneeling on the floor, panting hard and fast. "He... Is he really gone Dean?" Sam had questioned, voice trembling. "Yes Sammy, he's gone, he's gone baby boy..." The green eyed man had reassured his shaking brother.

"He's gone... He's gone... Dean, he's gone... Dean we... I..." But Sam's fragile voice trailed off, as his breathing quickened and his frame trembled visibly. "Yeah, you did it Sammy, you did it..." Dean muttered urgently, gathering the younger man in his embrace, locking his arms around him, while kissing the top of his head. "We did it Sammy, and you're safe, here with me, alright?" Dean had asked, moving his arms along the length of Sam's lean back. "He's gone and I'm..." "Free Sam, you're safe and free, everything he said, about this not being over, they were lies, lies little brother." Dean had declared, cradling Sam's pale face in his hands. What Dean couldn't have known, was that it had been the last time he had the chance to do that...

Shaking his head, to clear it up from all those thoughts, Dean reopened his eyes and found himself in his cell yet again. "So Cas... I need you to watch out for him, alright? I... I can't lose him, you of all people, or well, beings, should know that. I can't lose him and I can't stand the fact that he's locked in here either. So, I need you to watch out for him... Please Cas... Please..." Dean pleaded brokenly, while leaning his back on the wall even more. He had to get them out of there. And for all he knew, there was only one being strong enough and capable of helping them at this time of utmost need. Dean sighed bitterly and let his hand touch the wall. He had to make up his mind.

Little did the older man know then, but on the other side of that thick, cold concrete wall, leaned Sam, who was also, praying to Cas... "Hey Cas, you there buddy?" Sam muttered, while running the fingers of his left hand over his old wound on his right palm. "Cas I'm... I don't know if you can hear me, but I'll talk anyway..." Sam said, furling his body as much as possible, as if he was trying to become part of the wall. "I'm... I'm good." Sam rasped, knowing he was lying. "I'm good man, so I... I don't want you to do something stupid so as to find us okay?" The younger man continued, momentarily lifting his hazel eyes towards the ceiling.

"I told you that I don't know where we are, so I'm guessing this prison isn't on any map... So I need you to take care of yourself and of mom. You gotta watch out for her Cas, please, she needs someone to be with her, and I know it's too much to ask, but... Please do that, for me." Sam whispered shivering violently, while closing his eyes. "Of course Sam, you know I will..." Sam imagined Cas answering him and felt a little bit better at the thought that his Angel friend, would indeed take care of Mary.

'Sammy...' A malicious voice whispered and the hunter hit his head on the wall. 'Remember when we were in the Cage, Sammy? Remember how I used to torture you and then I used to leave you there, bleeding, broken and shaking from the cold? Alone, all alone... Just like now.' Sam bit his lip and blinked his eyes a couple of times, trying to focus on his depressing, but nonetheless real, surroundings. "Oh, and Cas... One more thing buddy. I need you to... To take care of Dean, Cas. He may be tough, but there are some things he can't deal with." Sam muttered, voice quivering.

'What things Sammy? Oh yeah, he hates the silence... But then again, so do you roomie!' Sam heard Lucifer saying and even though he knew that the voice was only in his head, he couldn't help but find some comfort in the fact, that he was hearing a voice other than his own. God, what was he thinking? To hear Lucifer would mean he was on the verge of going mad. Again. Sam sighed and hit his head on the wall for the second time. Who was he trying to fool? He was barely keeping it together. Ever since the cop with the suit had told him that he wasn't going to torture him, Sam had been terrified. For him, extreme physical pain was better than this.

Because Sam could fight all kinds of supernatural threats and win. Sam could fight the pain and agony which his tormentors would inflict on him and not break. After all, like he himself had declared, he had been tortured by the Devil himself. What he couldn't fight however, was this silence. Because the silence was loud. So damn loud, deafening even. For in the silence of his cell, Sam had come face to face with the fierce demons of his own mind. Every person he had failed to save would speak to him, and Sam was helpless, couldn't stop all those voices from telling him he had failed them...

But what was worse, was that at some point, Lucifer's voice echoed in Sam's head, low, wicked and filled with irony and hate. Sam knew that Lucifer wasn't real, and the hunter was clenching on Dean's words, the last words his brother had told him before the secret services had arrested them, for dear life. 'You're safe and free, and everything he said, about this not being over, they were lies, lies little brother.' Sam let Dean's voice fill the air around him, feeling his breath coming out of his lungs a little bit easier than before.

But Sam wasn't a fool. He knew, that what made it hard to breathe, wasn't just Lucifer's voice, or the fact that Sam could spend all his life in that cell. What made it almost impossible to breathe, was the fact that Sam knew Dean was sharing the same fate with him. Just imagining Dean pacing in that small cell, all alone, bound to his loneliness and to his own deadly, inner demons, made Sam's gut twitch. "Cas... I'm begging you man..." Sam uttered, speaking again after a long while. "Find a way to get Dean out of here. Just him, only him, but you have to get him out. He can't stand this Cas, being alone, not knowing if I'm alright... So please... Get him out... Amen." The hunter said, bowing his head while closing his eyes yet again.

Behind his long eyelids, Sam imagined Dean, but not inside some prison cell, but careless and free. He imagined him behind the wheel of the Impala, with the wind caressing his face, while AC/DC would be filling the air, naming whatever road Dean was on, Highway to Hell. And all around, tall trees with green leaves and blue skies up above. Yes, blue was the color of the sky, and green were the leaves, green, like Dean's astonishing eyes... And Sam imagined himself next to Dean, in the Impala... And then- "Chow Time!" The all too familiar voice said, bringing Sam back to the present...

Gathering himself up from the cold, dirty floor, Sam walked to the door of his cell, picking up the tray, only to dump it on the edge of the bed. He knew what he was doing was not wise, or good, but he couldn't bring himself to eat those things they had been feeding them, so he tried to ignore his stomach's angry growl. He had already lost a pound or two, he could tell as much and it was natural, since they were given food only once a day, and Sam had left it untouched half the days of the previous week.

Sighing heavily, the younger Winchester sat down on the bed and reached under his pillow. His fingers found the thin, small, but nonetheless sharp, piece of iron they had been looking for, almost automatically, and Sam brought it before his eyes. It had the shape of a toothpick, which the hunter had found stuck under the thin mattress of his bed. Rolling up his right sleeve, Sam looked at the inside of his forearm and his eyes blurred at the sight.

Thirty-five cuts he had inflicted on his hand, knowing that the pain would keep him grounded and that, if his mind was to start playing tricks on him, something for which he had been right, his own hand was a safer place for him to count the days. Sam was aware of the fact, that the piece of iron he had found was far from clean and although he had tried to clean it up as much as possible, there was no way, it was a good thing to cut himself with. But he couldn't care less about that, not anymore.

Inhaling soundly, Sam braced himself and let his left hand draw one more, thin line on his right inner forearm, feeling the sting of iron and the warmth of blood on his skin. One more cut, one more line on his hand, one more wasted day... Sam bit his lip and curled on the bed, letting his tears fall down freely. 'So much for saving the president, so much for saving the world, so much for defeating Lucifer... For making sure he couldn't hurt Dean...' Sam thought to himself, as his tears kept falling down.

On the other side of the wall, Dean looked down at the food. He placed the tray on the bed and sat down on the mattress, his green eyes fixed on what was on the tray. He knew that it wasn't fresh, hell, it was barely eatable, even by his own standards and that meant, that Sam wouldn't want to touch it, let alone swallow it. Pressing his lips together, Dean got up from the bed and went to the wall, the small screw in between his fingers. Dean looked at the wall and moved to his right, carving one more small line on the cold wall. One more line on the wall, one more wasted day... "So much for saving the president, so much for saving the world, so much for defeating Lucifer, for freeing Sam..." Dean muttered to himself, as his eyes were taking in the lines on the wall yet again.

"Thirty-six days..." The green eyed man muttered, growling deep in his throat. He let his eyes close and when he opened them again, they had a different color. They were a brighter green, for the older Winchester had made up his mind. Sitting on the bed, Dean let his elbows rest on his knees and blew out a breath. "Billie?" He uttered, eyes fixed on the floor. A part of him was sure the reaper wouldn't answer his call, after all, it took a special ritual to summon one of those freaking, scary, death machines, as Dean used to call them. So the hunter almost choked on his own spit when he heard the sound of heels on the floor of the cell.

"What's up Dean?" Billie asked, and Dean was left staring at her, for almost half a minute. "I am real in case you're wondering, now tell me what you want, cause unlike you, I don't have all day." The woman said, making Dean jump out of his own skin at the sound of another person's voice. "How... I mean I wanted you to come, but for all I know, it takes a bunch of ingredients to summon you." Dean muttered, swallowing hard.

"Is this why you called me here?" Billie questioned, raising an eyebrow. "No I..." "I am not an angel, to come when called Dean. I am a reaper and I come to collect the souls of the dead." Billie rasped, interrupting Dean. "Is Sam-" "Your pain in the ass little brother is not dead yet... But then again, if I'm here, he may be just that..." "Cut the crap Billie, is my brother alright?" The hunter rasped, feeling his gut twitching at the mere thought.

"He is desperate, like you. He is dead inside, nothing more than an empty shell, tormented by memories of dead people and of Satan..." The reaper declared and Dean gasped soundly, eyes flying open. "So, I'm listening... What do you want?" The woman questioned, smiling. "I need you to get him out of here." "Can't do." Billie shot back at once. "For the love of God, get him out and kill me in exchange!" The green eyed man said, voice rising. "Can't do that either. Rules." Billie said, voice dark, low. "'Sides, that's not what you want for me, is it?" "That's exactly what I want from you." "Well, it's a pity then, cause I can't do that." "Billie, just..." "Even if I could kill you-" "You can, Bellie and you want to!" Dean rasped.

"Well, then I can't do it. Rules Dean..." Billie replied and Dean felt his heart breaking. "Even if I was to kill you, I can't just grab Sam from his cell and disappear. What I can do however, is this..." And so, the reaper explained how she could kill the brothers and bring them back one last time, thus giving them the chance to be transferred at the morgue and from there, get out of the hellish prison. "Okay, sounds good to me. Once we'll be out of here, it won't be so hard to deal with the guards." Dean said, after the reaper had finished talking. "There are not many, not more than eight, since your arrest was known to less than few FBI agents." Billie said, and the hunter nodded his head.

"Now, to my price..." "Me Billie, you'll take me and-" "I'll drop by your brother's cell Dean, fill him in, on the plan. Only if he knows what's going to happen, do you two have a chance of getting out. Not that I care, don't take me wrong. I just want to reap you." The woman said as she turned her back on the green eyed man. "You, him... I'll leave it up to you two to discuss and decide. It'll be so much fun watching you argue over it." "Billie, listen, don't tell him I am going to die, Billie-" But before Dean could utter another word, the woman was gone from his cell, leaving him alone again. Mere minutes later she was back, shaking Dean awake.

"Your brother is... sane enough so as to agree with the plan." "What do you mean 'sane enough?'" Dean questioned, but Billie ignored him. "We were discussing about my price, I believe." She said, her eyes shining with enjoyment as she watched Dean's face frowning. "No, we were talking about my brother, tell me about how Sam is doing-" "I will get you out of here in exactly nine days. Note that your lunch is given to you at midday, twelve o'clock to be precise." "Billie-" "I'll leave you stay dead for about an hour. I'm guessing that when you'll wake up, you'll find yourselves at the morgue. From there, you'll be on your own." "Okay." Dean said, knowing he had no other choice but to agree.

"Wait, you said in nine days! Why let us stay here for nine more Goddamned days? You want to get your kicks by watching us suffer?" Dean yelled, desperately. Billie huffed and then chuckled, rolling her eyes at Dean's question. "If I kill you tomorrow, you'll have no chance of escaping here. You're both weak. Your brother hasn't eaten in days." Billie replied, enjoying Dean's pained expression. "So, eat, do some push-ups or whatever it is, that which you hunters do before going out on a big hunt. Because Dean, make no mistake, this will be a hunt, only this time, you'll serve as the hunter's pry..." The woman said, with a wicked smile on her face.

"Why do you care? It would be better for you if we were to end up dead, you would reap us both, wouldn't you?" Dean muttered, voice low. "I will reap you, should you die while getting out of here, yes. But when I make a deal, I want it to be a professional one. After all, I am breaking rules for you and I owe you nothing so as to do that in the first place." Billie continued, eyeing the hunter for a long moment.

"So, I'll bring you back one last time, and in exchange, I'll return right when the clock strikes twelve. At midnight, one of the Winchesters will die. Permanently." Billie said and Dean lowered his gaze on the floor. "Do we have a deal?" "Yes Billie, we have a deal." The green eyed man replied, and the woman smiled. "Not so fast Dean. I know you and your habits. We won't just agree on this. We'll make a blood pack." "What does that mean?" The green eyed man questioned, and the reaper replied that it couldn't be broken, unless the brothers wanted to doom the world. And so, Dean used his screw to cut his palm and shake hands with the reaper... "Enjoy your stay in here Dean." The woman said chuckling, and was then gone.

"What does 'cosmic consequences' mean?" Sam, to whose cell Billie went, right after she had left Dean's for the second time, asked. "Means the world goes bye-bye Sammy." The woman said and the younger hunter's face twitched. "Fine, but you'll take me, not Dean." "Like I said, I'll let you two-" But Sam wouldn't let the Reaper speak.

"Listen to me. I am the one you want, I stood Death up once, I was the reason Dean killed him in the first place. I'm the reason the world has gone to the verge of destruction and back again, not once, but twice. So I know it's me you want dead." Sam said and saw the reaper's face hardening. "You know Sam, if I don't help you out of here, you'll both rot inside those cells, and eventually be driven mad before dying, choking on your own vomit. So I'll get my hands on you, one way or the other." The woman said, voice low, threatening.

"Only problem with this plan, is that you can't wait that long for this to happen. And I'm fine with that, I'm just asking you to take me, to kill me." Sam replied, taking a step away from Billie. "I don't kill, it's Dean, who'll have to kill you if you'll be the one to follow me." Billie shot back, face hard, eyes narrowed. Sam shivered at the sound of those words and swallowed hard.

"So, do we have a deal?" She asked, and the younger hunter took in a deep breath. "You'll take me, I'll make sure to convince Dean about that matter." Sam declared, grabbing the small toothpick-shaped piece of iron, cutting his palm with it, shaking his hand with Billie's. "Enjoy the rest of your stay in here Sam." Billie said, voice distant, as she turned her back on Sam and started walking away.

"You'll take me Billie..." Sam muttered one more time. 'Me, or else, let the world be dammed.' Thought Sam, but kept those words for himself. Yes for himself, for everything around him, was silent once again. And so, Sam moved from the bed and sat down on the floor again, leaning on the wall. And on the other side, of that same wall, leaned Dean, who was also surrounded by silence for one more time. "You'll take me Billie, you hear?" Dean said, to the now empty cell. 'Me Billie, not Sam. Me, or else, let the world be damned...' Dean thought, and his thoughts echoed loud in the silence...

And like that, Sam and Dean were once again alone, sitting on the floor, with their backs on each side of the thick wall, with their thoughts echoing loudly inside their heads. Could they sacrifice everything and everyone so as to be together for yet another time? The answer was yes, yes they could. But this time, they wouldn't do it, for now they had seen another, more terrifying side of Hell. And if getting out of there and spending even one hour free and together, meant that one of them had to die, then so be it. Seeing each other again, was worth it.

And so, there they sat, still and motionless, listening to the sound of silence, while thinking about one another... And should one stand and listen very carefully, he would hear three words been thought of, over and over by two different people, within that deafening silence. 'I love you...'.

In nine days, they would meet again. But until then, all they could do, was sit on the floor on each side of that wall, listening to the sound of silence and to their thoughts, thoughts of love, about each other...

A/N! Hope that you enjoyed, please, tell me what you think! :) If you liked it, note that there is more to come regarding this episode, as well as later episodes! I know I should have posted them sooner, but I didn't have time!

Love you all,

Usagi!