A bit of a different spin on a part of the Born Again Identity. It really bothered me that Sam took drugs from a street dealer. Any ER would've done a tox screen and discovered drugs in his system. This is just my little take on it. I'd love to read other's versions. As usual, no beta. Open to suggestions, but am a softie, so be nice please! 3 Shannon

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Sam pushed the thoughts of "this is wrong" to the back of his head. He wanted to sleep. Scratch that, he needed sleep. So here he was, following the "nice tweaker" as Lucifer had put it. He followed him into the abandoned garage, next to the alley where he had tried to outrun Lucifer with no luck.

The guy promised he could "knock him out". Right about now, that sounded good. Sam bit his lip, not just good… necessary.

Tweaker dude spread out his wares like a guy selling counterfeit watches.

"I got the artillery for Heroin, but you look like a beginner. I've also got pot, or pot laced with PCP. If you're scared, I've got some pills; oxy, codeine and roofies - but generally people don't buy them for themselves…"

Sam wanted to run, but found himself looking at the drugs longingly. "Just… just help me get some sleep, man. Real sleep."

"You got money?"

Sam pulled a small wad of cash out of his back pocket. He started to hand it to the guy, but pulled it back. "Only if you take the drug too… first, in front of me."

Smiling, the dealer grabbed all the cash. "That's extra, but… sure thing man, just let me get my shit together." After a phone call and a quick meeting with his "old lady", they headed to the dealer's car sitting behind a nearby gas station.

"They know me here, man. Relax."

Sam tried to calm his breathing as the guy brought out a bottle with tablets that looked a lot like aspirin. He handed Sam the bottle and said, "Take out any three". Sam held the three pills in his hand. The dealer brought out a bottle of cheap whiskey, which dammit if that didn't momentarily make him think of Dean. Shaking it off, the dealer took one and left Sam with two. "You may want to knock out dude, but I'll settle for a nice nap." Swallowing his pill with a gulp of whiskey, he handed Sam the bottle. "Bottoms up, man."

Before he lost his nerve, Sam swallowed the pills with several long gulps of whiskey.

The guy grabbed his bottle back, "Jesus, dude! Save some for me!" Sam flinched, but not at the dealer's outburst. Lucifer was in the backseat singing Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit".

By the third time Luci sang the song, the dealer was out for the count and Sam felt "gooooooooood". He laughed, sloppily, acknowledging that Lucifer was still there, but he didn't care so much. He felt drunk. Like, fall-down drunk. Contest-winning drunk. Smirking, he let his head fall back against the car seat. He attempted to shift into a more comfortable position but found it to be an impossible task. For a brief moment, Sam freaked out a bit. What if he overdosed? Maybe it would be for the best if he died? But that thought slipped away with all others as his eyes slowly closed and he dropped off into oblivion.

Just a matter of minutes later, a large pipe came crashing through the windshield of the old car. Sam jumped and tried to make his way out of the vehicle. When he did, he realized that the glass was intact and the pipe was nowhere to be found.

Lucifer's laugh and singing rang through his head as he dropped to his hands and knees and heaved. A small amount of whiskey came burning up through his throat and out onto the ground. As the singing got louder, Sam struggled to get to his feet. He staggered, and then began to run.

He couldn't see. There must've been something in his eyes. The ground moved beneath him. Struggling to come back to himself, Sam slapped his own face sharply. This cleared a few cobwebs, but he realized that he was still very messed up; wasted beyond understanding. All he could think and do was run.

Sam didn't see or hear the car headed his way. He hit the windshield and went flying. He felt a rib crack and a thousand cuts and scrapes along the left side of his body. Through his drugged haze, he felt little pain, but did hear a frantic voice that seemed to be calling 911.

"Yeah, yeah! I hit him! He came outta nowhere! I… I think he's a druggie, I n…never come downtown, I was heading to the airport to pick up my fiancé! Yeah, I think he's alive. He's breathing, but I'm afraid to get too close, what if he's some PCP freak and tries to rip my face off?"

Attempting to uncross his eyes while spitting out a little blood, Sam laughed hysterically. He couldn't move. He couldn't talk. All he could do was lie there, bleeding. Bleeding and laughing. It was funny that this guy was afraid of him. Sam only hurt monsters, ghosts… and the people he loves. He faded out for a moment. When he woke up next, he was on a gurney in the back of an ambulance.

"Sir. Sir! What did you take? Sir?" Sam felt a pain in his chest as the man rubbed his knuckles across his breastbone, but he couldn't move. The paramedic called out to the driver, "Shit, Jimmy, he's not responding, his airway is clear but I have decreased breath sounds and a possible broken rib, maybe a concussion." Sam felt a hand reach into his pocket to grab his wallet. He moaned and tried to move to stop the intrusion, but couldn't.

"Sam? Sam, is that your name?" The paramedic was yelling into his ear again.

Why won't he just let me sleep? Sam was getting annoyed.

Suddenly Lucifer was back and the ambulance was on fire. Sam became desperate to warn the paramedics. He found he could move again, so he tried to take off the oxygen mask. "S'fire! We're on fire!"

"Sam, calm down! Do you hear me, Sam? The paramedic reached above him for a filled syringe.

"Why… why… w…won't you listen? We're burning! It's hell! We're in hell, for fuck's sake!" Sam felt a needle in his arm and felt a warm tingling take over his body. He tried to grab the guy to make him listen. He was trying to save all of their lives, why didn't he understand?

"Hurry Jimmy! He's high on something and the meds aren't taking him down. I'm gonna use the restraints." Jimmy nodded his okay and proceeded to radio more info to the hospital.

Sam continued to fade in and out, the only constant being Lucifer's commentary. Fighting the restraints was exhausting. He was somewhat aware when he arrived at the ER. He heard things like, "tox screen, psych consult, more sedatives." He knew he needed to get out of there, to get back to Dean, but thanks to the restraints and the myriad of drugs running through his system, he wasn't going anywhere. He needed Dean. Dean could fix this. Well…, no one can fix this, but Dean can help.

Unbelievably to the ER staff, no matter how many drugs they pumped into him, Sam remained awake during the painful process of cleaning his wounds. He didn't cry out in pain. He only cried out about things like fire and hell and souls burning. Hospital staff tried to write him off as just another junkie, but there was something about the man – they just couldn't.

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As the doctor led Dean to Sam's room, his head was spinning with phrases like, "psychotic break, restrained for safety and positive drug tests".

Dean huffed in a quick breath when he saw Sam. He looked awful. He was bruised and bloodied, and drugged out of his gourd. Sam couldn't seem to focus. He wasn't asleep, but he definitely wasn't quite awake and aware either.

"Did he do this to himself or are these your drugs making him like this?" Dean demanded.

The doctor spoke softly, "both probably. We'll do our best to take care of him. I'll let you two have some time alone."

Dean sat in a chair next to the bed and grabbed his restrained brother's hand.

"Sammy?"

Sam's eyes turned toward Dean's voice, but made no connection. Dean almost couldn't take seeing his brother this way. Sam needed him now, so he had to hold it together. Dean didn't think Sam could comprehend him, but he spoke anyway.

"Drugs, Sammy? You're buying drugs from a street dealer like some tweaker? You coulda told me. You shoulda woken me up, man. I wouldn't have let it get this far… You could have killed yourself tonight Sam."

Sam let out a quiet laugh. Shutting his eyes against the assault of dizziness, he closed his eyes. "Maybe 'f I die, things'll finally be quiet. Wanna sleep, De." Sam took a big breath and with a shaking voice said, "I can't sleep, n'like this. 'F bein' dead is wha' it takes, then lemme die."

"No!" Dean yelled. He stood up and headed toward the door. "I'm gonna find you some help Sam. Just hold on, okay?"

Sam was already too lost in his own world to respond. Lucifer was dangling a spider over his face, he seemed to love that Sam was restrained and couldn't shake it off.

Dean closed the door behind him to his little brother's screams.