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Falling Inside the Black

Chapter Text

Sam was grateful for his watch at times, no pun intended. It granted him at least some semblance of time, if such a concept even mattered here.

The Empty. Black. Void. Black. Nothingness. Black. Black. Black…

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, the incessant tick tock tick tock tick tock of his watch clicking in his ear, making him twitch with unease. It was one of the sole sounds that Sam heard now, other than his own breathing, his heartbeat, and if he listened hard enough, he could even hear the blood coursing through his veins.

It was a wonder that he still had a heartbeat and a pulse, he often thought. Was he really still alive? Because he definitely didn't think he was alive. He still existed. Of that, he was fairly certain.

"How nice- to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive." Suddenly popped in Sam's mind. It was a quote from Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut, a novel Sam had read back at Stanford. It followed the story of a man, Billy Pilgrim, who would travel through time without really meaning to. Ironically though, the novel seemed to have no concept of time.

Time. Again. It always passed, but never ran out, never would run out in this damn place, full of nothing but black, black, black, BLACK-

Sam shut his eyes, (engulfing himself in black) once more, but intentionally. He was controlling it this time. He and he alone dictated where his thoughts went.

Whenever Sam found his mind wandering, he forced himself to go through a memory, one that would keep him grounded. Grounded in what though, he wasn't really sure, because it sure as hell wasn't reality. Nonetheless, Sam took a deep breath, and let himself fall back into a memory. The memory actually. The one that had caused him to end up here.

"Mom," Dean had said, voice dripping with surety, but tinged with regret. "That place, there was only one way we were getting out of here, and it wasn't breathing. So I made a call."

"And we made a deal." Sam chimed in. "We'd get to die and come back one more time. But in exchange-"

"Come midnight," Billie said eagerly. "And a Winchester goes bye-bye. Like, permanently. And that is something I've been looking forward to for a long time." She grinned, and wasn't it just lovely that the only time she was ever happy was when she was fantasising about their demises?

Neither brother was sure whether confusion, anger, or betrayal was strongest in Mary's voice. "Why would you-"

"We were already dead." Dean interrupted. "Being locked in that cell with nothing… I've been to Hell. This was worse."

"At least this way, one of us gets to keep fighting." Sam said tiredly. If only Dean knew what he was planning.

"You don't have to do this." Castiel almost pleaded, desperation rather than certainty driving him to say it.

"Yeah," Billie was practically laughing. "They do. We made a pact, bound in blood. You break that, and there's consequences on a cosmic scale. So, who's it gonna be?"

There was no hesitation. Sam felt Dean's eyes on him, but Sam couldn't bring himself to look back, otherwise he knew that he would change his mind. So instead of sharing one last glance with his brother, instead of them falling into the inevitable argument of, "take me, not him," Sam just ran up to his mom, plucked the gun from her waistband, cocked it, and put it against his head. His eyes were still closed, equally unwilling and unable to bear the looks of horror that he knew would be on his family's faces.

"I love you." The seldom spoken words left Sam's mouth less than a second before the bullet left the chamber.

Dean, Cas, and Mary all screamed his name in tandem, but Sam never heard it. He was dead before he even hit the ground.

The last thing he had seen in life, and the first thing he had seen in The Empty was black.

Always black, forever black, everything was and is and will be black.

Despite the ever-enveloping black within this nothingness, Sam could still see himself. He wasn't sure how, because there was no discernable light source, but he didn't complain. He would have gone completely mad if he lost all sense of colour and light along with time.

Back to time again. Sam checked his watch. Two minutes had passed since the past time he'd checked. Or maybe it had been twelve hours and two minutes since he'd checked. Or twenty-four hours and two minutes. Or thirty-six. Or fourty-eight. Or-

Sam shook his head again. He knew he shouldn't try to think about how long he'd been thinking. Because it didn't really matter in the end, now did it?

"The end." Sam thought briefly. He wondered if that was another concept that would evade him. Maybe he would never get an end. Or perhaps, this was his end. Sentenced to an eternity of The Empty.

An eternity of black.

But it would be worth it. Sam constantly had to remind himself of that. He was dead, dying, fading, losing, but Dean was alive and- well, not well. Sam knew his drastic and admittedly selfish decision was- is- something that would haunt Dean for the rest of his life. But life. That's all that mattered now. Dean would still have a life. He wouldn't be rotting in this void, losing more and more of himself as time (ha) went on. Sam could bear this unbearable nothingness forever, so long as he never forgot why he had done this, why he had done almost everything.

For Dean.

Chapter Text

"Sam!" Dean cried, attempting to rush to his brother, but a gunshot echoed around them before Dean could even take a full step. He didn't stop running though, and he managed to catch Sam's body before it hit the ground.

No, not his body. He caught Sam. It was Sam, because if he was catching Sam's body, that meant that he was dead, and he couldn't, he just couldn't be dead.

He placed two fingers on Sam's neck, briefly thinking that he still felt a pulse, but he quickly realised that it was only his own fingers shaking in panic.

Okay, no big deal, he'd brought Sam back before. He could do this, he had to do this. He moved his hands to Sam's chest and started compressions, a lot harder and more frantically than he normally would have. Sam jerked lifelessly with each push, but unlike usual, he didn't start coughing or gasping, or sit upright as life suddenly rushed back to him.

"D-Dean," Mary said softly, her voice already beginning to crack. "He go-"

"No, he's not!" Dean shouted, but he didn't really believe himself either.

"Yeah, he is." A voice with just the slightest twinge of pleasure slipping through said. Billie. Dean could practically hear her smirking. "I've already sent him on his way. I'd been hoping I'd get to relish the moment a bit longer, but I can't complain."

"You bitch." Dean hissed, grabbing the gun from Sam's hand, and whipped around to aim at her. He fired until the chamber clicked, indicating that he'd run out of bullets.

Billie looked down at her chest with complete disinterest. With a snap of her fingers, the bullets vanished from her chest, and not a mark was left on her.

"Come on, Dean. You know that regular bullets can't kill me."

"Maybe not." Castiel growled from behind Billie. "But this can." He raised his angel blade, but before he could strike, she held up her hand, sending all three of them flying back.

"Even if you were to kill me, Castiel, it won't bring Sam back." She said flatly. "You struck the deal. There's no changing it now."

"I never agreed for it to be Sam!" Dean shouted back.

"And if it had been you, I'd be having this exact same conversation with him. Sam offed himself first, and I told you there'd be no weaseling out of this deal. It's over. No more second chances." She made a casual stroll to Sam's body, and took hold of him by the back of the jumpsuit.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asked with a frown and a slight tilt of his head.

Billie chuckled. "You really think I'm gonna let you keep the body? No, I know you'll hold onto it as desperately as you'll hold on to the hope that you'll be able to bring him back to it. But you can't, so trust me, I'm doing you all a favour."

"No!" Dean cried.

"Sorry, Dean." Billie raised her hand to snap herself and Sam's body away, but a sudden pitiful plea caught her attention.

"Wait!" It was Mary. She slowly brought herself up on unsteady legs. Her lips quivered, as did her voice as she attempted to appeal to some sort of sympathy within this heartless monster before her. "I promise, we won't try anything, but just- please leave his body. I missed so much, too much of my boys' lives, so I'm asking you, I am begging you to at least grant me the heartache of being there for him in death." A few tears trailed their way down her face. She swallowed, sharpening her tone. "After all he's done for the world, he deserves that much."

Billie raised an eyebrow, and her lip briefly twitched in thought. She glanced at the pathetic display of human emotion surrounding her, and then rolled her eyes.

"Fine." Billie said at last, letting go of Sam's collar, making him fall to the ground. "Keep it. But if I catch the slightest whiff of you trying anything, I won't even let you say goodbye. I'll take him back with a snap of my fingers."

"We get it." Castiel growled, hiding his pain with a mask of anger. "Now go."

Billie shot a warning look to Castiel, and then she vanished. And the masks vanished right along with her.

Dean was cradling Sam's body. Body, corpse, Sammy's corpse, he's dead, oh, God, he's really dead, his baby brother is dead!

His breath hitched, and he felt a tear start to trickle down his cheek, soon followed by another. Then another. And another, and pretty soon, he couldn't stop.

"D-damnit, Sammy…" He choked out.

"Dean…" Mary started softly, reaching out a comforting hand on to his shoulder. But the second it made contact, Dean shot up off the ground and ran to the side of the cement bridge and slammed his fist into it. Blood immediately started seeping from his soon to be bruised knuckles, but he didn't let up the assault, not even when several pops sounded from his hand.

"Dean, stop!" Castiel yelled, yanking Dean away from the bridge, and pulling his limbs back to keep him from causing himself any further harm.

"Get off!" Dean shouted, struggles weakening as the helplessness started to fully set in. When it finally did, he lost the strength to remain upright, starting with his head falling forward, and soon he sagged completely limp in Castiel's arms. The grip keeping him up then shifted to a gentle and equally pain-filled embrace, which was soon joined by another.

Nobody spoke for the longest time, because there was almost nothing that could be said. All the words in the world could never show the true strength of everyone's anguish. Until at last-

"H-he's really gone…" Dean croaked out, voice broken from the force of his sobbing.

"He did it to save you." Castiel said in a voice not much stronger than Dean's.

"I didn't ask him to do that! It isn't" wasn't "his job to keep me safe!"

"Just because no one ever told him that didn't mean that he didn't believe it. You know how willing he has always been to sacrifice himself for the world, but even more so for you." Castiel swallowed, trying to maintain his composure. "For any of us."

Mary sniffled, "I-I had barely said 'hello' before I had to say 'goodbye.'"

"We didn't even get to say 'goodbye.'" Dean pointed out bitterly.

"He knew he would have tried to stop him." Castiel said. "There was no possible way that this deal ended well for anyone. You two never should have agreed to it in the first place!" Castiel shook his head before his anger could get the best of him. "But now," A single tear fell. "Now we must deal with the consequences."

"How do we even start?" Asked Mary.

Dean started to stand, an energy of determination beginning to radiate from him. "We build a pyre. The best damn pyre we've ever made, and give him the best damn f-funeral we can." Dean wiped his eyes. "And we try to learn to say 'goodbye.'"


Sam still exercised. Sure, his body, if it could even be called that, wouldn't change. He figured this out when what he had decided had been days passed and he had yet to feel a single pang of hunger, or the slightest ounce of thirst. So there was no chance to wither away by human needs, so there was no real reason to exercise other than the sole purpose to pass the ti- right. That didn't matter here.

Also, it made him tired. After he'd spend a while running, doing push-ups, crunches, it would wear him out, and he would close his eyes, black consuming him once again.

"Back in black, I hit the sack. I've been too long, I'm glad to be back."

Sam couldn't help but smile as the song started playing through his head. But it wasn't AC/DC's version running through his mind. Instead, it was the image of Dean behind the wheel of the Impala, having the time of his life belting along with the cassette tape he still refused to let go of. It was clearly a bit of a strain on Dean's admittedly impressive voice, so he'd given up on certain notes, electing to yell them as loudly as he possibly could, purposefully leaning closer to Sam as he did. At the time, Sam had groaned and rolled his eyes, trying to shout at Dean to shut up, tell him that he was giving him a headache.

What Sam would give for a Dean induced headache now.

With the memory of Sam trapped in the car with Dean's off-key belting, Sam drifted off to sleep.

He woke up eventually. He knew he couldn't think in terms of time, so he simply acknowledged that he was awake, and moved on. He stretched, stood up, and started to walk around the confines of the darkness once again.

There weren't walls or ceilings. Sam wasn't even sure there was really a floor. He'd learned about the walls when he'd fallen down, hitting his knee rather hard, and gave a harsh shout. But there was no echo. Everything about this place melded with Sam's logic told him that his voice inevitably had to run into something and bounce back to him, but apparently logic held the same significance as time.

Whenever Sam found himself absent-mindedly singing to himself, he was grateful for the lack of an echo. He didn't share Dean's singing abilities, so he didn't mind that his uneven voice didn't get to assault his ears anymore than it already did.

He'd really grown to detest the sound of his own voice at this point. It was all he ever heard other than the occasional shuffle of his feet across the ground. But he couldn't- wouldn't- stop talking or singing to himself. He simply had to block out the sounds of his heart beating, blood rushing, pulse thrumming. It was absolutely maddening. He wished he could hear something new. Or Dean. He always wished for Dean.

He missed the steady thrum of electricity. Back on Earth, there was almost always some kind of distant hum of lights, or a buzz of a venting system. He hadn't realised how he had taken those sounds for granted. Whenever those sounds had faded, and all was as quietly as it possibly could have been, it meant something, usually a monster, was about to attack. Thusly, the even more intense silence that seeped through The Empty left Sam in a constant state of unease.

So he hummed. Or talked. Sometimes he'd even yell complete and utter nonsense if he thought that the silence was growing too loud. And yes, he knows that that doesn't make any sense, but he simply couldn't bear the silence.

The nothingness. The isolation. The black. Forever the black.

His voice eventually began to tire, so he stopped humming, and held his watch up to his ear. The steady tick tock tick tock tick tock was hardly any better than the overwhelming silence, but it was better nonetheless.

Sam allowed his mind to wander, and let the irritating clicking become a metronome, setting the beat for his imaginary rendition of Hey Jude. He imagined his mom singing it. Even with his eyes tightly shut, he still felt the tears slipping loose as he let himself mourn his family. Then he couldn't help but chuckle, because how could he mourn them when he's the one that's dead? He kept going back and forth between crying and laughing, until finally, he fell asleep once more.

Chapter Text

Crack.

Sam's eyes shot open at the new sound, followed by a sharp sting in his head. He reached up a hand to check for a source of the pain, and as his watch neared his ear, he felt his heart skip a beat, because no sound was coming out of it.

In a panic, Sam lifted his watch to his face, and when he got a good look at it, he whimpered. The protective glass had cracked, and the hands now twitched lifelessly, unable to click past their current and final positions. He realised he must have rolled over on it in his sleep, and the weight of his head had broken it, and the shards had embedded themselves into his scalp.

He snapped the watch off his wrist, causing more shards to rain down around him, the soft chime of their impact making Sam's gut clench. He stared at the watch, practically trying to will it back to life, because he just can't lose the last thing he had that tied him to any semblance of reality. He started frantically tapping at the watch, oblivious to the beads of glass that wedged their way into his fingers.

He then started to shake the watch, and soon realised that he couldn't stop shaking. He looked at his hands, finally noticing how the ruby rivulets trickled down from where the glass jutted out, some pieces small, and others somewhat bigger.

He'd forgotten how much he had missed the colour red. He'd grown accustomed to seeing only the grey-blue of his jumpsuit, and pinkish tan of his skin, and occasionally the dark brown wisps of hair that sometimes fell over his eyes. And the black, Always the black. It was a dark blessing to see something new again.

Letting out a bitter chuckle, Sam turned and twisted his hands, watching in pure fascination as the red seemed to glow, almost calling to him.

Besides having missed the colour, Sam also realised how much he had missed feeling. He'd grown weary of listening, looking, and nothing more than being. He wanted more.

The brief sting of the shards stuck in his hands started to fade, and the thought of being left with nothing yet again outright terrified him. So, he plucked one of the larger pieces off the ground, and tilted it, trying to get the light to reflect off of it, but then remembered that there was none of that here. There was absolutely nothing here except the darkness, the loneliness, the black, black, black, black, BLACK-

Slice.

Sam gasped in surprise at the sudden sensation he felt in his arm. He looked down at it to discover a long, red stripe running down it. It hurt. It throbbed. It stung. But it felt. The pain gave him another sense of existence, it was the closest to real he had felt since he got here.

Curiously, Sam probed at the wound, and momentarily winced as the pain heightened, but then he couldn't help but smile. Forget the memories, those were too painful to keep him grounded, but this pain, this physical pain made him feel human once more. This way was far easier, and it meant that he could feel something other than despair.

At last, this was his key to feeling alive again.


"Anything?" Lucifer asked, annoyance apparent in his voice. He'd grown more than tired of these constant "check ups," so to speak, that were leading absolutely nowhere.

The fact that the demon lowered its head was answer enough, but Lucifer would be damned (if only) if he let some nameless, insignificant, disgrace of creation not answer him. He grabbed the demon by the collar, yanking it close enough that it could likely feel his icy breath against its face. Lucifer's eyes glowed as he hissed, "Well?"

"Th-the warding is st-still too strong, sir. M-my lord." It quickly corrected.

With a huff, Lucifer let it go, and slouched back against the chair he was apparently doomed to rot in. "How much longer is this gonna take?"

"I- I don't-"

"Ballpark it." He snapped.

The demon wisely backed out of Lucifer's reach before answering. "It could still be several months before the warding wears off enough for you to escape."

Lucifer merely blinked and the demon flinched. Good. Insolent, little cockroach. "Not sure if you recall, so I'll be kind and remind you." His tone was anything but. It had an icy coolness that was far more terrifying than if he'd been yelling. "My son is going to be born soon. I don't have months." His eyes started glowing red. "So either you find a way to speed up this process, or else I tell Crowley that you've been helping me, and he can deal with you as he sees fit."

The demon paled. "B-but then who-"

Lucifer waved a hand and its voice abruptly broke off. "I'm the inventor of seduction and manipulation. Do you really think I couldn't find someone to take your place? Besides, it's not like you've been particularly helpful anyway. So. You're gonna find a way to power down this warding, otherwise I'll blow the whistle on this whole thing, and then I'll sit back and relax to the soothing sounds of Crowley disemboweling you." He smiled. "Understand?"

The demon only nodded frantically. Lucifer wasn't even blocking its voice anymore, it was just too scared to speak.

Approvingly, Lucifer nodded. "Good. Now start looking."

The demon nodded once more, and scurried off. It kept its eyes on Lucifer, as though it feared that if it looked away for just a second that Lucifer would snap his fingers and end him once and for all. It managed to open to door without turning away, and backed up through it, and quickly shut it behind itself. It exhaled a sigh of relief, and turned around. The sight of Crowley standing right in front of it caused the demon to jump and let out a humiliating squeak.

Crowley smiled, but there wasn't an ounce of joy in it.

"Y-you heard that I take it?" The demon asked, already knowing the answer.

"Oh, only all of it." Crowley said dryly.

The demon swallowed. "Any chance you're gonna make this quick?"

Now Crowley's smile had a touch of pleasantness in it. "Not even a little."

With resignation, the demon sighed. It gave a final nod, and then it went up in flames. As its agonised cries echoed throughout the throne room, Crowley entered Lucifer's prison.

Lucifer's lips were pursed with mild disappointment.

"So you caught me." He said with disinterest. "Doesn't matter. No matter what you do, I'm gonna escape eventually."

Crowley let out a small chuckle. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I realised something. A few somethings actually." He started moving closer to Lucifer. "The first thing, is that I am already King. I shouldn't care about making you suffer the same way I did, as much as I would love to. Secondly, you're right. I could send a brand new demon in here every day, and you would still find a way to turn them against me. So I've come to a conclusion." A blade dropped form his sleeve. "I don't need you anymore."

Had it been an ordinary blade, Lucifer wouldn't have bat an eye. But this wasn't an ordinary blade. It was an angel blade.

"Where'd you manage to find that?" Lucifer asked, masking his worry.

"You really think I wouldn't have some kind of safety net in place before bringing you in?" He scoffed. "Please."

Panic increasing, Lucifer asked, "What about your plan to break me? Show all my loyalists that you can't possibly be beat?"

"I've considered that, but I realised that you can't exactly be loyal to a dead man, can you?" He chuckled. "Besides, I think that your head serving as my foot rest will get the message across."

Lucifer's eye started glowing red. "My son-"

"Will be in the best of hands, far away from you." Crowley cut him off. "You've had your chances, and now it's time for you to give up. Not that you really have a choice in the matter, but." He smiled. "I'm truly going to enjoy this."

In a fit of rage, Lucifer reared forward, and ended up impaling himself on the blade. He grit his teeth and let out a furious and animalistic growl as the pain made itself known. Crowley's victorious smirk was the last thing he saw before he shut his eyes, and he felt himself explode in death.

Chapter Text

Lucifer hadn't been expecting to open his eyes. He was fully aware that he had died, and for once he actually wasn't too certain that there was anyone left who would be willing to revive him.

Then he realised that no one was around him either. No one greeted him with a, "Sire, I've brought you back to save us all." Not that he'd ever do anyone a favour anyway, but he was confused nonetheless. The fact that all he saw was himself didn't help the matter either. Black encompassed the space surrounding him, and for the briefest moment, Lucifer felt true fear, because he could think of only one place that he could possibly be.

The Cage. Again. Alone. Trapped. Forever.

"No…" He whispered. Then the terror set in tenfold. "No!" He turned his head around to slam his fist into the Cage wall, only there was nothing there. The ancient metal bars were absent, and there were no flashes of lightning or rolls of thunder, which meant that this wasn't the Cage after all. So then where the hell (or otherwise) was he?

His attention was pulled away by a soft sound, a voice in pain. But not just any voice. Sam's Winchester's. Lucifer could have, and apparently did, recognise it anywhere, especially when it was so clearly tinged with agony. Three-thousand, three-hundred and sixty years of nothing but that sound tends to leave an impression.

Unable to resist, and more than a tad curious, Lucifer started to follow the sound. It wasn't long before he saw a lone figure in the distance, huddled on the ground. Another gasp of pain left him, and Lucifer shuddered in pleasure at the sound. Sam seemed completely unaware of him, and seemed gravely more focused on- what the hell was he doing?

Upon drawing closer, he saw that Sam appeared to be absolutely catatonic. He was shaking madly, muttering nonsense to himself, and ever more interestingly, he appeared to be partaking in carving up his own arm, watching with fascination as the blood welled up.

That was when Lucifer knew for certain that this couldn't be Hell. The sight in front of his was far too wonderful for it to have been part of any kind of torment. Maybe this was Heaven.

The thought made Lucifer laugh. As if he'd ever go to Heaven. Not that he didn't feel that he deserved to rule it, but that was a separate matter.

Lucifer's laugh snapped Sam out of his trance, and he slowly looked up at Lucifer. His face was passive, which Lucifer had not been expecting.

Sam simply shook his head and muttered, "Not real."

Oh. Oh, that was just precious. Sam didn't think that Lucifer was real. Well then. Lucifer would just have to prove him wrong, wouldn't he?

He quickly shot out his hands, tightly grabbing Sam by the wrists. He felt Sam immediately tense, but it didn't appear to be from fear. Instead, he seemed to be trying to get loose so that he could get back to what he was doing earlier.

"Sammy." Lucifer cooed softly.

"N-no!" Sam cried, his movements growing more frantic.

"Saaaam." Lucifer tried again, patience wearing thinner by the second.

"N-not…" Sam panted, struggling to recall the words. "Real. Not real."

Lucifer's eyes then started glowing, and he squeezed Sam's wrists until he felt the bones about to break beneath his grip.

"Sam." It was a command that time. Lucifer would be sorely disappointed if his favourite pet suddenly stopped listening to him. Then he'd have to go through the trouble of breaking him all over again. Lucifer then chuckled at the thought, because okay, he would have absolutely no problem making Sam his obedient little bitch once more.

Sam started gasping, even letting out a small whimper from the intensity of the pain. For the first time he looked at Lucifer, really looked at him, and that was when Lucifer got to watch gleefully as realisation quickly followed by terror flash through Sam's eyes.

After a slow swallow, Sam croaked out, "R-real?"

Tilting his head with an eager smile starting to creep across his face, Lucifer nodded. "There it is. You miss me, Sammy? Cuz I sure missed you."

"No." It wasn't disbelief this time in Sam's voice. Instead, it was a delicious combination of panic, desperation, and denial.

"Yes, yes I did. But luckily, it looks like we've got the whole place to ourselves. So," He suddenly yanked Sam up, just high enough for Lucifer to easily lean down and whisper right in Sam's ear, "What do you say you and I do a little catching up?"

Something was clearly broken inside of Sam Winchester, because the boy didn't even try to be stoic. He immediately started thrashing with abandon, further opening his self-inflicted wounds. Lucifer couldn't wait to find out what had lead to him doing that.

Oh, this was going to be so. Much. Fun.


"So, tell me, Sammy, where exactly are we?" The question was asked casually, as if Lucifer didn't currently have his hand up to the forearm inside Sam's abdomen, groping his soul in an unforgiving grip.

Sam couldn't even dream of answering. The only sounds to leave his mouth were pants, or choked off whimpers. His hands quivered uselessly at his sides, legs twitching just as sporadically.

Lucifer, however, didn't really care that speaking was beyond Sam's capability. He only cared about the fact that Sam appeared to be defying him, so he tightened his grip, crushing Sam's soul in his hands until the boy couldn't even breathe.

"Let me try that again. Do you know where we are?" When Sam didn't answer immediately, Lucifer dug his thumb in, causing Sam to let out a pained whine. Lucifer almost couldn't fathom how much pain Sam must be in. He laxed his grip only slightly when Sam nodded. "Okay, good. That's a start. Now," He tilted his head down at Sam in warning. "Are you gonna tell me?"

Sam's slightly parted mouth shook as he sobbed in a breath. Apparently not all his defiance had been knocked out of him, because he steeled himself, and then shook his head.

Fine by Lucifer. It was no fun destroying a toy that was already broken. He simply gave a ghost of a smile, and then squeezed Sam's soul until he felt something snap.

Sam finally let out his first real scream, followed by a plea of, "St-stop!"

"Where are we, Sammy?" Lucifer asked again, not at all loosening his grip.

Sam managed to gain enough control over his hands to grasp Lucifer's, but his struggles only caused Lucifer to further jostle his insides, and he cried out at the indescribably invasive agony.

"Tell me now, or I rip your soul in half. I know you remember how that feels, and I definitely remember how much you hate that. Is it really worth it, buddy?"

Sam gathered his senses in order to process the question. He thought for a moment, and realised no, it isn't worth it. Almost nothing is worth that much pain.

Unable to do much else, Sam shook his head. He didn't think he could handle much more of this, because he also knew that Lucifer had a limitless imagination.

"You gonna be a good boy now?" Lucifer asked borderline sweetly.

Sam nodded frantically, too weary to care about how degrading the question was.

Lucifer smiled and released his grip, but he did not yet withdrawal his hand from Sam's chest, allowing the unspoken threat of, "I'll do it again if I have to" to loom over him.

Sam took a moment to gather his breath, gaining enough strength to finally answer, "E-Empty."

"Empty? As in The Empty?" Lucifer attempted to clarify. Sam nodded again. "Huh." Lucifer was confused, albeit mildly intrigued. "How long have you been here?"

Eyes going wide in panic, Sam started to shake and whimper again. He couldn't remember. No, it was more than that, he just didn't know, he couldn't know because his watch was broken, but it didn't really matter anyway, because time didn't exist here, he didn't even exist here, why was Lucifer here, this wasn't fair, this didn't make any sense, he just wanted it to stop, he wanted all of it to stop, he just wanted to die, die, die, die-

A sudden twist of his soul brought him back, and he found himself screaming again.

"Sam…" Lucifer warned once more.

God, it had been so long since Sam had spoken that it was genuinely difficult for him to recall all the words. Especially when the pain was simultaneously taking away his breath, and filling his mind with thoughts of, "stop, hurts, please, hurts, can't, no, don't, hurts-"

"D-d-don't… kn-know." He stuttered out. He exhaled a painfully shaky breath the hand finally released his soul again.

Lucifer sighed, feigning understanding, but he relished in Sam's suffering far too much for it to ever be believable.

"Alright, I suppose that's fair. How about this one: how did you end up here?"

"D-deal. Billie. E-either me, o-or-…" Sam stopped. He couldn't tell Lucifer the rest, because he couldn't remember it. He had convinced himself that he didn't want to remember, because it hurt. Like right now. Everything hurt.

"You or who?" The hand shifted, not squeezing just yet, but Sam still jerked in discomfort.

"I-…" Sam started. He tried to remember. He didn't really want to forget. There was something within that memory, someone that had made everything completely worth it, but he had lost it. It felt like a part of himself, a part of his very soul, had been lost with it.

And Lucifer felt it too.

"Oh. Oh." Lucifer said, astonishment mixed with sadistic excitement bubbling up inside him. "You really don't remember him, do you?"

This wasn't the first time Sam had cried in the Empty, but was certainly the time that had hurt the most. He didn't feel shame for crying in front of Lucifer, the emptiness inside him was far too powerful for any other emotion to overcome it. It didn't even register when Lucifer took his hand from Sam's chest. He just curled up on himself and let the tears spill loose as another part of himself slipped away.

"I guess I should take that as a compliment." Lucifer said passively. "You remembering me, but not him." He chuckled.

"H-him?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, him."

"N-need… know." Sam was too far gone to give a damn about dignity.

"What, so you can regain that stubborn streak of yours again? Not gonna happen. I'm gonna keep you in the dark, just because I can." Lucifer laughed again. "I'm pretty sure that even with everything I did to you in the Cage, this is gonna be my best torture yet." He smiled, cracked his knuckles, and then poised a hand just above Sam's chest, ready to plunge it in again.

"Now, where were we?"

Chapter Text

"Ahh!" Kelly cried out as another contraction struck throughout her body.

"It's alright, Kelly, you're doing great." Mary tried to soothe her. She whipped her head around to face Castiel. "Can you do anything for the pain?"

"This is Lucifer's child. I'm afraid there is little I can do to help with this."

"Y-you've done more than enough, Castiel." Kelly panted. "Y-you believed in this child when nobody else did. I kn-know he will be able to c-create a better future f-for everyone. Thank you." She looked to Mary, and then the notably quieter Dean. "Thanks to all of you." She gave a brief smile before her head tipped back on a scream as the pain of another contraction consumed her.

Rather abruptly, Dean left the room, and Castiel quickly followed after him, hoping to get his friend to talk to him about his unanswered question.

"I- never did ask you, Dean." He started. "You had seemed almost adamant about killing this child, but you changed your mind. Why?"

A soft but pained smile made its way onto Dean's face. "I just- I thought about what Sammy would have done." It was always 'Sammy' now, never just 'Sam.' "I knew that he would've wanted to give this kid a chance. He always wanted to give everyone a chance."

"Except himself." Came the painful thought.

"Besides," Dean added. "You trust him, and I trust you."

"You're almost all I've got left now."

"Well, thank you." Castiel said sincerely. Silence simmered between them for only a few seconds before another one of Kelly's screams practically shook the house. Wait, no, the house was actually shaking.

"Cas, what the hell's happening?" Dean asked.

Castiel put a hand to his own forehead as something nearby shifted. Something big.

"I'm not sure." He answered. "But I think it's this way. Quickly." They both ran outside the house, and soon found the source of- power was the only way to describe it. It looked like a frozen lightning bolt, or a glowing rip hovering above the ground.

"What is-"

"I have no idea." Castiel cut Dean off, already knowing the question, but having no answer.

Dean started to reach a hand out to touch it, but Castiel grabbed his arm and pulled it away.

"I don't think we should touch it, Dean. When has an unidentified glowing object ever lead to anything good?"

"You're not worried about what the hell that thing is?"

Kelly's scream answered before Castiel could.

"Of course I'm worried, but right now we have other things to worry about." He looked back at the house just in time to see the lights flicker. "We should go." He didn't wait for an affirmation he just started running back.

Another scream, scratch that, a shriek pierced the air, and it soon morphed into an angelic whine that Castiel and Dean felt all too familiar with. All the lights in the house suddenly burst, encasing it in complete darkness, and then they both knew.

The Nephilim had been born.


"Please, please stop, please!" Sam was fairly certain that there had been a time that he had refused to ever beg the Devil. But that was back when he had hope, which Lucifer was keeping locked away from him by refusing to say his name. Not to mention to fact that Lucifer was currently prying his nails out of his already broken fingers, an agony he found almost unbearable.

"Sammy, this is only finger number six, don't tell me you're trying to tap out already." Lucifer whined as he gently massaged Sam's left pointer finger, the pain of the grinding bones making Sam cry out. Lucifer closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "I'll never get tired of that sound." Without even looking, because he knew Sam's body that well, Lucifer tore the nail from its bed, sighing in satisfaction at Sam's scream.

"Tell you what, buddy," Lucifer said, slowly twisting Sam's next finger until his boy was writhing and gasping in pain. "If you can manage to not scream at the next finger, I'll leave the other three alone. Hell, I'll even heal both of your hands for you. We got a deal?"

Sam forced himself to process the words. Lucifer always kept his promises, and he had hurt Sam far worse in the past and he had managed to remain silent. He could do this. He had to.

But the second Lucifer started tugging on his nail, he screamed.

Lucifer ripped the other nails out without a word, seeming almost disappointed that Sam had lost their little game, no doubt having something far nastier in mind for him had he been able to hold out. He instead huffed as he cast Sam to the ground, not bothering to bask in the wonderful cries of pain Sam emitted as he tired to cradle his ruined hands to his chest.

"You know, eternity isn't gonna be any fun if you don't give me some kind of challenge."

"You won't have that long." That wasn't Sam's voice. That- that was Lucifer's voice. Lucifer turned around and saw a mirror image of himself staring back at him. He rolled his eyes at Sam's frantic litany of "no's."

"Well, hey, good-looking." Lucifer said to his double.

"Can it, angel." It hissed. "You should not be awake." It cast a glance to Sam. "And you should not be here."

"Okay, sorry to interrupt your- whatever this is," Lucifer butted in. "But what exactly are you?"

It sneered. "Something a lot older than you. I'm the guardian of this place, over all the souls of every dead angel and demon."

"Whoa, every angel?" Lucifer asked, taken aback.

"Yes, every angel, all locked in an eternity of sleep." It stepped closer. "I was also sleeping. And you should be too."

"Well," Lucifer shrugged. "I'm not." He giggled. "What are you gonna do?"

Lucifer was taken very much by surprise when the copy suddenly threw its hand on his head. Before he could even begin to protest, agony unlike anything he'd ever felt, other than The Fall, raced through his skull. His true voice escaped as he screamed, causing Sam to cover his ears to try to block out the piercing sound. After what felt like forever, it withdrew its hand, and Lucifer collapsed to the ground.

"What the hell, man?" Lucifer groaned, lifting a hand to his still throbbing temples.

"Oh, I was just reading your mind."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know why you're here, and more importantly, how to shut you up so I can get back to sleep!"

"You ever tried counting sheep? I know it's a bit of a cliché, but don't knock it til you-" He was cut off as the entity grabbed him by the throat and started to lift until he could no longer speak.

"That's enough out of you," It smiled knowingly. "Lucifer. Time to read your pet." It snapped its fingers, and suddenly Sam was on his knees beside it. It placed its hand on Sam's forehead, and soon Sam was screaming once again. He collapsed the second the being released him. It inhaled deeply and dropped Lucifer to the ground.

"Okay. Okay, okay, okay." It said, drumming its fingers against its chin in thought. "So you," He pointed at Sam. "Are awake because you're just a human, so the rules don't quite apply to you. And you," Now it pointed at Lucifer. "Are here because of the whole 'true vessel' connection or whatever. And that won't do. No, that won't do at all."

"Here's a bright idea then." Lucifer said as he got back to his feet, brushing himself off. "Send me back to Earth, and I won't bother you anymore. And I'm sure Sammy won't bother you at all."

It chuckled. "Or, I get both of you to fall back asleep again." Without warning, it put its hands back on both their heads, and for the first time, the Empty echoed with screams.


"Are you sure you're alright, Jack?" Castiel asked.

The Nephilim paused, actually processing the question, and that was definitely not something anyone was used to. "I feel- empty somehow." In answer, his stomach growled, causing Mary to chuckle.

"That's just hunger. C'mon, I'll make you something to eat." Mary then escorted Jack to the kitchen, but Dean and Castiel stayed back.

"What about you, Dean? How are you feeling?" Castiel was surprised that he didn't get the usual snap of, 'I'm fine.'

"Honestly? I- I don't know, Cas. Believe me, I'm glad I got you and mom here, but…" He trailed off, but he didn't need to finish. Castiel knew just what he was thinking.

"I know, I wish he was here too." At least Dean was talking about it for once. "I have a feeling he and Jack would have gotten along well."

"Yeah." Dean said with a chuckle. "Yeah, I bet they would have." Dean sighed. "Cas, what are we gonna do?"

"About what?"

"About the kid! I sure as hell don't know the first thing about raising Lucifer's son, and I'm pretty sure you don't either. We've got no idea what he's capable of! Remember that glowing light he caused in the backyard of the safehouse? We've still got no clue what that was, or if he's gonna make another one!"

"Which is why I'll be here to carefully guide him how to use his powers. But I can only teach him how to be an angel. You can teach him how to be a human. I cannot do this without you."

Dean went silent for a moment. Then another, then another, then finally, "I- I can't." He turned and left, blocking out Castiel calling after him.

Jack must have sensed something was off, and approached Castiel. "Did I do something to upset him?"

Castiel sighed. "No, it is not you. He has recently lost someone he cared about deeply. Who we all cared about."

"Who?"

"His brother, Sam. He-…" Where could he even start? "He was a hero. He'd saved the world countless times, and expected nothing in return, but he usually got even less. He was constantly told that he would never be more than an abomination, that he was damned practically the second he was born."

Jack's eyebrows knitted. "Like me."

Castiel paused, and then nodded. "Yes, much like you. But he was able to prove everyone wrong, including me. He spent every moment of his life trying to help other people.

"What happened to him?"

Castiel's eyes fell as he found himself reliving that painful moment, as trapped and useless as ever. "He sacrificed himself to save Dean. He had made a deal, an incredibly stupid deal that forced either him or Dean to give their life in exchange for the other. And now he is somewhere that even I cannot reach him."

Jack too dropped his eyes, a feeling of sympathetic sadness washing over him. "Do you think he is at peace?"

A smile ghosted over Castiel's lips. "Yes. I truly think he is."


Sam continued to scream as the pressure in his head built and built, unable to hear Lucifer screaming beside him. The hand released them once more, and Sam collapsed, holding his aching head, whimpering at the aftershocks of the agony. He didn't have the energy to flinch at the hand that started all too intimately carding through his hair.

"C'mon, boys," The entity practically cooed at them. "Just give in to it. Close your eyes, and all the pain will go away."

But Sam didn't want the pain to go away. He needed the pain in order to feel something other than emotional anguish. He curled in on himself, shaking, already missing the pain.

"N-no." Lucifer hissed. "You seriously think you can torture me to the point of giving in? I dad-damned invented suffering, so there isn't a thing you can do that's gonna make me give up. If you want sleep, then you're gonna have to send me back to Earth."

The being was clearly furious, but defeat was prominent in its eyes. "If I send you, you're taking your pet with you."

Lucifer flared his nostrils in annoyance. "Why bother? He's been here longer than I have and he never bothered you."

"But he. Doesn't. Belong here! I am in charge of this place, and I don't want some whimpering, pathetic, cockroach of creation infesting my home!"

Lucifer took a deep breath, thinking. Did he want Sam to follow him back to Earth? Hell no. The kid was as whiny as he was a pain in the ass, but he wasn't exactly himself, so he couldn't really do any damage. And then a plan suddenly formed in Lucifer's head, one that would get him his son, and he knew that he would be unstoppable.

"Know what, big guy?" Lucifer grinned. "It's a deal." He held out his hand, and as the being took it into its own, Lucifer felt himself moving back towards Earth.

Towards his son.

The absence of agony was starting to make Sam panic. So much so that he didn't even notice the change in environment. He didn't feel the gravel beneath his feet, or scent the air tinged with smells, and not the lack thereof. Sam didn't know it, but he was home.

Lucifer, however, immediately noticed the shift. He was in fact repulsed by the stench of humanity surrounding him, but that wasn't the only thing he could sense in the air. The was a power, akin to his own. His son had been born.

But before he could get too ahead of himself, he still had one more thing to take care of. He cast his gaze down to the quivering human, and Lucifer let his eyes glow their fiery red.

"Alright, Sammy," He lifted Sam off the ground with a painful grip on his hair. "Let's chat."

Chapter Text

"This is killing you, isn't it?" Lucifer asked the still shaking Sam. "Not being able to hurt yourself. You're losing your only hold on that little shred that's left of your sanity." Sam's whimper was all the answer Lucifer needed. "Thought so. Then I've got a proposition for you."

An annoying familiar gleam flashed in Sam's eyes. Hope.

Gross.

"I can promise you nothing but pain, so much that you won't even have a single second to think about that special someone you can't remember." Lucifer grinned internally as that ounce of hope faded just as quickly as it came. "You'll never have to feel that kind of hurt again, and all you've gotta do is say one, little word. 'Yes.'"

Sam paused, hesitation and doubt clouding his face. He felt like there was definitely a reason that he shouldn't listen to Lucifer, that he should be fighting him! But he was just, so, tired…

"N-no more hurting?" He asked nervously.

"Nope. Just pain. You have my word." Lucifer couldn't stop the grin now. He couldn't have imagined a moment this wonderful in his wildest dreams. Not only would he be at full power in his chosen vessel, but it also meant one less Winchester to worry about as he hunted for his son. And all he had to do was promise Sam unceasing agony in order to coax a 'yes' out of him. And he was more than capable, as well as eager, to follow through on that promise.

Without a trace of fight or strength left in him, Sam nodded.

"I need to hear it, Sammy."

"Y-yes."

Lucifer possessed him within a second, and wasted no time in chaining Sam up and locking him away within the darkest recesses of Lucifer's imagination. Thus, Sam's hell commenced, and Lucifer's heaven began.


Jack winced and brought a hand to his forehead as he felt- something? No, someone.

"What is it, Jack?" Mary asked.

"My head."

"I can feel it too." Castiel said, worry seeping through his usually monotonous voice. "This- this can't be possible…"

"What?" Mary asked, growing more concerned by the second.

"The power we're feeling," Castiel began. "I've felt it before. But- it can't be him…"

"Who?!" Mary was growing even more frantic.

Jack was the one who answered. "Lucifer. It- it's him, isn't it?"

Castiel nodded.

"But," Mary started, "We sent him back to Hell. He couldn't have possibly escaped."

"I used to believe the same thing about the Cage, but he managed to escape from there too."

"How could he have gotten out?"

"I'm not sure." Answered Castiel. "But I do know who we could ask."

"Crowley." Everyone turned their heads, surprised to see that the voice belonged to Dean, who was now standing in the doorway.

"Dean," Castiel said. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear that Lucifer's back." For a fleeting moment, Dean was grateful for Sam's absence, because he didn't want his brother anywhere near that son of a bitch ever again. "You sure it's him, Cas?"

"I am. But I don't know how it's possible."

"We can call up Crowley, see if he has any ideas."

"Are you sure that's a wise choice?" Castiel asked. "We don't know where he stands with Jack. If he wants him for himself, he shouldn't be anywhere near him."

"So we don't let Crowley know we've got him. Sound good? I think we're good."

"Dean," Castiel put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Are you sure you're ready to do this? You haven't really gone out much since-"

"Don't." Dean cut him off. "I need this. I can't just stay cooped up in here forever."

"Who's Crowley?" Jack asked.

"King of Hell." Answered Dean.

Jack frowned, looking concerned. "And- he is your friend?"

"He's useful. But he's loyal to himself before anyone else."

"Dean's right, Jack," Castiel added. "So it is probably best for you to stay as far away from him as possible." He turned to Dean. "I'll talk to Crowley with you."

"No." Dean said sharply. "I need to get out of this bunker, and you need to keep an eye on the kid. I don't want mom around him if he goes nuclear." Dean didn't miss the flinch that Jack have, but he didn't really care either. "Let's go." He turned around without another word, and headed up the stairs, and out the door.

When Mary joined behind him, he knew he was in for a lecture.

"Dean, you've got to give Jack a chance. All he wants to do is help."

"Yeah, and what has he actually done so far to help? He doesn't even remember telling Cas that crap about how he'd create a better world. He's useless."

Mary sighed. "I think you're just expecting too much out of him. I think we both know that there's really only one thing that you want from him, isn't there?"

Dean shut his eyes, knowing, but not wanting to hear what she was going to say.

"You think he could bring Sam back, or at least you want to believe that he can. But, I- I don't think he can. I wish he could, but-"

"Enough." Dean interrupted. "I know you think you're helping, but you're not. Just let me do this." He didn't wait for a response, but just took out his phone, and made the call. It rang only twice before there was an answer.

"Squirrel." Came the voice on the other end. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm assuming that you felt it too." Dean wasn't in the mood for Crowley's usual antics. "You know why I'm calling."

There was a pause. Crowley appeared to be at a loss for words, and that never happens. "It can't be him."

"Cas thinks otherwise. Do you think there's any chance that the spell Rowen used didn't work right?" Dean was met with silence, and he felt a pit growing in his stomach. "Crowley?"

"The spell-…" He said hesitantly. "Did exactly what I wanted it to."

Dean tightened his grip on the phone, thinking he may inadvertently crush it. "And what. Did you want it to do?"

"I- wanted to show everyone how powerful I was. By turning Lucifer into my pet. So I altered the spell so that he would be locked in his old vessel and-"

"You did what?! We had a chance to finally take him out-!"

"Which I did as soon as I realised that I couldn't control him. I promise you, he was dead, and I don't know what could have brought him back."

Dean twitched. "I do." He hung up before Crowley could asked any more questions. He looked back towards the bunker with fury radiating off of him in waves.

"Dean, stop! You don't know what happened, and you can't jump to any conclusions." Mary tried to reason. When Dean ignored her and tried to rush past she jumped in front of him, blocking him off. "If Jack had wanted to do anything to hurt us, he's had plenty of chances." She sighed. "I know you're angry about Sam, but-"

"I don't want to talk-"

"Well I don't want to talk about it either!" Mary snapped. "It shouldn't have ever happened, you should have trusted that me and Castel wouldn't have ever given up on you, and would have found a way to get you out." Tears started to flow down Mary's face. "I-I should have been there for him. For both of you." She wiped her eyes. "If you want someone to be mad at, it should be me, not Jack."

Dean shut his eyes, trying and failing to hold the tears back. "It's not your fault. Or Jack's… It's mine. I should have been the one who-"

"Stop it." Mary cut him off again. "It shouldn't have been either of you. You both deserved so much better. I- I'm sorry I couldn't have made things better." Mary then threw her arms around her boy, and she felt him shaking in tandem with her. She didn't hear a sound out of him, but she didn't need one to know that Dean was crying.

"Th-the best thing we can do now," Mary managed to say. "Is take down that monster that's caused everyone so much pain." She released Dean to look him in the eyes, ambition prominent in her own. "And we'll do it for Sam."

Dean closed his eyes, and nodded. "For Sam."

Chapter Text

Sam fell forward in the chains suspending him above the ground, coughing against the blood bubbling up in his throat. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, despite the unceasing cold that festered in the air around him.

He attempted to lift his head, but it was too demanding of a task, and he fell back against his chest. That is until an icy hand grabbed his chin, and forced him to look into those unfeeling blue eyes that stared unblinkingly into each and every one of his nightmares.

"You having fun yet, Sammy?" Lucifer asked sweetly.

Sam only choked in answer.

Lucifer's head titled. "Oh, am I boring you? I could always kick it up a notch if you're not enjoying yourself." He started to reach towards Sam's chest, the intent of groping his soul all too clear.

"N-no!" Sam shrunk in on himself as much as he could.

Smirking, Lucifer drew his hand back. "Would you like a break? No tricks here, I promise. I won't lay a finger on you."

Hesitant, but desperate, Sam nodded, but felt terror grip him when Lucifer's smile grew more eager. But before Sam could change his mind, Lucifer snapped.

Everything shifted. The blackness of the Cage vanished, and Sam's hands were no longer chained above his head. Instead, they were wrist deep in some man's chest. Sam could feel the sporadic beating of the man's heart against his still tightening fingers.

Sam quickly tried to pull away, but his muscles refused to listen to him, as though his body wasn't his own.

"That's because it isn't." He felt himself say. But how-

That's when it all came rushing back to him. The Empty. Pain. Lucifer. Pain. Striking the deal. Pain. Saying yes. Pain.

Sam's panic began to consume him, but his breaths wouldn't quicken, and he didn't start shaking because Lucifer who was possessing him using him making his body do terrible things wasn't panicking. He was laughing.

"S-stop it!" Sam pleaded within his mind. "I don't want to see this!"

"Aww, but I thought you wanted a break, buddy." Lucifer cooed as he used Sam's hands to squeeze the man's heart until it burst, drenching their shared hands with gore.

"Please, stop! Just- just torture me instead!"

That was all Lucifer needed to hear.

Sam was no longer looking at the gruesome scene, and found himself back in the Cage. He collapsed onto his knees, trembling. He swore he could still feel the slickness of blood on his hands, and he started gasping for air. He didn't register Lucifer's presence until he laid a hand on Sam's cheek, tilting his head up until he was looking at Lucifer once more.

"You see, Sam? The pain is protecting you. You don't have to see what's going on, because I know you don't want to. I'm keeping you safe. Do you understand that?"

Sam didn't actually understand, but he knew that he didn't want to see anything like again, so he nodded.

Content, Lucifer nodded, even began gently stroking Sam's face with his thumb. "Good. So don't ask for the pain to stop again, or else I'll have to show you what we're doing, and I know that's not what you want. So, are you gonna suffer like a good boy now?"

Sam swallowed, thinking that he should be fighting, but the thought flickered out within a second. So again, he nodded.

Lucifer smiled. "There's my Sammy."

The atmosphere around Sam shifted, and he felt himself hoisted up by the chains, the torture about to begin anew. But at least this way he could hide from the horror happening outside his head.

You know what they say; Ignorance is bliss.


"Is there a way that we can track Lucifer?" Mary asked.

"We don't have to track him." Said Dean. "There's only one thing that Lucifer's after right now, and he sitting right in front of us." His gaze drifted to Jack, who quickly became defensive.

"I've told you, Dean, I don't want anything to do with my fa- Lucifer." He dropped eye contact, fearing the judgement he'd face after his slip-up. "Castiel has told me what he has done, or has tried to do, and- I don't want to help him." A small smile slipped onto Jack's lips. "I want to help all of you."

"Good." Dean said, which surprised everyone. "Lucifer's gonna come for you, and we need to be ready for him. Or better yet, we get you trained up right, and bring the fight to him."

"And then what?" Mary pointed out. "We thought we got rid of him before, and even Crowley thought he had killed him, but none of that seemed to work. How are we supposed to take him down?"

Again, Dean's gaze shifted to Jack.

"Dean," Castiel started. "Do you really expect Jack to be able to take down Lucifer?"

"If anyone can do it, it's him."

"Maybe someday, but not yet." Castiel added. "Despite how far he has come, Jack still has a lot to learn in order to control his powers."

"Then you keep teaching him. In the meantime, Mom and I can look for a way to trap Lucifer. This son of a bitch is not coming back this time. We are taking him down once and for all, and nothing is gonna get in our way."

A knock at the bunker's door took everyone by surprise.

"You expecting someone?" Mary asked, but she was already reaching into her waistband for her gun. She and Dean had their weapons aimed just in time for the door to open. Before they could see who was standing behind it, a sudden barrage of bullets forced everyone to take cover.

Once the gunfire stopped, a faint clicking of heels echoed through the bunker, followed by an irritatingly familiar voice.

"Now," she said with a condescension usually reserved for Disney villains." We could do this the easy way; you give us the nephilim, and you all remain unharmed. Or," The smile could be heard within her grating accent. "We slaughter every last one of you, and take him anyway." She chuckled. "Neither of these options are particularly difficult for us, so the choice is yours."

"You can take that offer, and shove it, Toni!" Dean shouted, still clutching his gun. He had heard multiple other sets of footsteps, indicating that he and his family were outnumbered, ergo, outgunned.

He then heard Toni sigh, although she didn't sound genuinely disappointed. "I had a feeling you would say that."

"How did you find us?" Mary asked, hoping to buy them some time to come up with a plan.

"This is a Men of Letter's bunker." She explained. "Its location was never hidden from us."

"Then why wait to attack us?" It was Castiel who asked this time.

"We needed to be sure you had the nephilim. After finding out about Kelly Kline's demise, we could only assume there'd be two brothers stupid enough to try to contain Lucifer's child. Although, I've heard it's just one brother now, isn't it?"

With a growl, Dean lunged up and managed to fire two shots, hitting one of them in the shoulder before being yanked down by Mary, the stream of bullets narrowly missing him. He briefly fought against her hold, wanting nothing more than to shoot that smirk he knew Toni had off her face.

"Dean, don't." Mary warned. "She's just trying to get you out in the open."

"Be smart, Dean." Came another annoying and familiar voice. Ketch. "You need to think about what you're doing here. You're protecting the spawn of Lucifer over your own family. Well, what's left of it."

Mary wasn't quick enough to stop him this time. Dean fired off only one round before time seemed to slow as a single shot headed straight for Dean's head. But just before impact, they all heard a cry of, "Stop!" and the bullet froze, held in place by a yellow haze. Everyone turned their heads to see Jack holding out his hand, his energy shielding everyone around him.

"Jack, get back!" Castiel warned.

Jack ignored him and addressed Toni at the top of the stairs. "What do you want with me?"

Toni frowned, surprised to see a full-grown boy as opposed to a child, so Ketch spoke instead.

"We don't know yet. Clearly, you're powerful, which leaves us with two choices. One, you cooperate with us fully so your abilities can be used for the greater good."

Dean interjected. "Oh, and you guys are all about the grea-"

"What's the second choice?" Jack asked, cutting Dean off.

There was a momentary pause. "Or we determine that you are too dangerous to control, and you will be eliminated."

"Jack, you can't trust them." Castiel said. "The moment you are no longer useful to them, they will kill you."

Slowly, Jack turned his head to his friends, and spoke a single word that broke their hearts.

"So?"

Chapter Text

"What do you mean, 'so?'" Castiel asked in disbelief.

"You told me that Lucifer, my father is the evilest being in existence, didn't you?" Jack asked.

"Yes, but-"

"So how do you know I won't end up like him?" Jack asked with a small quake in his voice. "What if I never learn to control my powers? What if-" He swallowed, true fear prominently displayed in his eyes. "What if I hurt you?"

"Y-" Mary tried to start. "You won't."

"You can't promise that." Jack shook his head, sounding more upset by the second. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I caused any of you pain." Without waiting for another response, he turned to the British Men of Letters. "If I go with you willingly, will you promise to leave them all alone?"

"Jack, don't!" Dean shouted.

Ignoring his cry, Toni and Ketch shared a glance, and then nodded.

"We promise." Said Ketch.

Jack took a deep breath. "Okay. Then I'll go with you."

"Don't do this, Jack." Castiel pleaded, then he, Dean, and Mary all tried to stand, but Jack held out his hand, and kept them from being able to get up. They all strained against his power, but he was too strong.

"You," Castiel tried to reason. "Are not your father. You have only ever wanted to help us."

"I know." Jack said, almost giving a soft smile. "And this is how I can help you. If I go with them, and they do kill me, then Lucifer will never be able to make me like him. This- this is how I keep you all safe." He closed his eyes, and a single tear ran down his cheek. "I want to thank you all for everything." He turned to Dean. "And I'm sorry I couldn't bring Sam back."

"Jack!" They all cried one last time, but then Jack closed his fist, and they all flew back, hitting their heads and falling unconscious. He hoped he hadn't hurt them too badly. But this was for their own good. This was for the good of the world.

He turned towards the people that had threatened his friends. "Okay." He said. "I'm ready."

The woman, Toni, he'd heard Dean call her, held up something shiny. It almost looked like two bracelets, but a short chain connected them together.

"Enochian handcuffs." She explained. "You understand, of course. We can't have you endangering our staff if your powers start acting up."

Jack hesitated, then nodded. He approached slowly, and then a man and a woman roughly grabbed him, forcing his hands together behind his back. The handcuffs snapped in place, and he felt a wave of- unpleasantness wash over him, and he felt significantly weaker. He was pushed outside, and ushered towards their cars.

"Where are you taking me?"

"If our sources are correct," Ketch answered. "Lucifer isn't far from here, and we can't have him hunting you down." He suddenly turned Jack around, stuffing a cloth into his mouth, and shoved him not into the backseat, but into the trunk of the car. "So we're making sure that neither he, nor anyone will ever be able to find you again." A bag etched with all sorts of symbols was thrown over Jack's head, encasing him in darkness. He then heard the trunk slam above him.

Perhaps this hadn't been the best choice after all…


"I want every last one of you hunting down Lucifer's child!" Crowley ordered his demons. "If Lucifer gets his hands on his son before I do, we're all dead!"

"Ohhh, don't you worry about that, Crowley." Came a voice behind the doors just before they flew open. Lucifer stood beneath the archway, using Sam's body, and he was absolutely drenched in blood. "Make no mistake, you were dead either way. Sorry if that was unclear."

"It's him." One demon muttered in awe.

"L-Lucifer…" Another gasped.

"Our Lord and Saviou-"

Lucifer snapped his fingers, and every demon flew up in smoke, leaving only him and Crowley standing.

"That's enough out of the peanut gallery." Lucifer said as he rolled his shoulders.

Crowley tried to mask his fear. "How-"

"Ooh, wait, lemme guess!" Lucifer interrupted. "'How am I not dead?' Or, 'How did I get Sam to say yes?' Or, 'How did I find you?' All good questions, but I've got an even better one." In a flash, he was mere inches from Crowley. "How exactly do I plan on tearing you apart?"

Not left with any other options, Crowley raised a hand to snap himself away, but Lucifer immediately reached out and broke his wrist, smiling as he did.

"Uh-uh." Lucifer said as he maintained his vice-like grip on Crowley's shattered bones. "You're not getting away that easily." He released Crowley's hand to grip him by the throat, lifting him up a good two feet off the ground. Man, he loved how tall Sam was.

"It's funny, this really ought to be the perfect time for a monologue, but I- I'm just at a loss for words." He tightened his grip once more, crushing Crowley's windpipe, and let the demon plummet to the floor. Lucifer watched Crowley sputter and choke on the blood rising in his throat. Sure, demons don't really need to breathe, but this still clearly hurt. It would also shut him up while Lucifer had his fun. He'd always thought Crowley talked too much.

"I could go into great detail about how I've suffered, relive every single moment of pain that lead me here," He kicked Crowley beneath the jaw, sending him careening into the wall, and then collapsing on the ground again. "But I'm trying to be more optimistic these days. I mean, look at me!" Lucifer clenched his fist, and Crowley was forced to his knees, but unable to move any further, suspended in agony.

"I've got all the power of my true vessel," He snapped, and Crowley's lungs popped. "I'm getting back at the insect that tried to take my place on the throne." He snapped again, and Crowley's eyes started bubbling, and then boiling, and then leaking in thick, lumpy streams down his face, and he was still completely incapable of screaming.

"But best of all," He made his way behind Crowley, and with deceptive gentleness, he draped his fingers at the base of the soon to be ex-King's jaw. "I'm going to be with my son soon. And with him by my side, not a damn thing is going to stop me from incinerating this helpless world, and remaking it in my image. I won't just be King again." He leaned down to whisper in Crowley's ear. "I'm going to be God."

With that, Lucifer yanked upwards, tearing Crowley's head from his shoulders. A spray of blood decorated Lucifer's shirt and face, then he licked some of it off his lips.

"Now," He said to no one. "Who's next on my to-die list?"

Before he decided, Lucifer felt a shift. The presence he'd felt since he arrived, his son, had suddenly vanished.

No.

No, his son was still alive, he just had to be. Someone must have taken him and found a way to shield him from angels.

DamnitLucifer had thought he'd have more time. But he'd decided he'd wanted to punish those who had wronged him, and destroy those who thought they'd have a chance at stopping him. He should have gone after his son first!

Lucifer clenched his fists at his side, wanting nothing more than to rip something apart right then.

Oh, wait a minute.

With a deep sigh, Lucifer closed his eyes, and retreated to the corner of his subconscious where Sam Winchester was being held captive. So far, Sam had mostly been reliving his memories of the Cage, but right now, Lucifer needed to feel blood sluicing between his fingers, let the crack of bones vibrate throughout his body, have screams and pleas and cries of pain echo all through his mind.

He snapped his fingers, and Sam appeared in front of him. The trembling human held his hands out in defense, anticipating pain from a scene that was no longer playing.

Normally, Lucifer might make a comment about it, or taunt Sam before the torment. But not this time.

He threw Sam's hands to the side, and delivered a kick to his chest that sent Sam onto his back, causing all the air to rush out of his lungs. Not giving him a chance to recover, Lucifer placed his foot on Sam's neck, just hard enough to send him gasping and writhing. Amidst the panic, confusion was apparent in Sam's expression.

Still too pissed to engage in conversation, Lucifer lifted his foot, then promptly stomped on Sam's face. Finally, he felt a twinge of joy at the crunch of Sam's nose, followed by his pained cry. Sam's hands flew up to his face on instinct, and he couldn't help but whimper at its sensitivity.

Taking advantage of Sam's lowered defenses, Lucifer slammed a fist into Sam's stomach. Sam shot up, blood spewing from his mouth. No doubt Lucifer had caused internal bleeding, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to see it on the outside, he needed to feel it.

He shot his hand out, grabbing Sam by his hair, and hauled him up. Before Sam could decide what part of himself to defend, Lucifer produced a blade with a serrated edge, and plunged it into Sam's shoulder. When Sam didn't immediately shout, Lucifer twisted the knife, and finally gained the scream he had been waiting for.

That at last calmed him down a bit, and he was ready to talk again.

"So, you're probably wondering, 'why the conjugal visit?'" Lucifer said as he rocked the blade up and down, still lodged in Sam's shoulder. "Honestly, I'm pretty upset right now, Sammy. And I'd been having a great day up until recently." He then yanked the blade out with another cruel twist, and allowed Sam to crumple to the ground. He then knelt next to Sam, and with synthetic sweetness he started carding his hand through Sam's hair. He smiled when Sam tried to twitch away, but he didn't truly have the strength.

"But then," His free hand shifted to Sam's wound, and he dug his thumb deep into the gash until Sam was choking on his scream. "I lost track of my son. The whole dad-damn reason I bothered to come back to this stupid planet." The fury was rising again. The hand in Sam's hair tightened.

"I wasted so much time on those that didn't matter." The hand began to shake.

"And now," He let go to punch Sam again. "He's gone." Another punch.

"He's gone."

Punch.

"So I'm gonna take it out on you."

Punch. Crack.

"Again."

Punch.

"And again."

He widened the wound with his thumb and index finger.

"And again."

His hand closed around Sam's throat as Lucifer's eyes began to glow.

"Because you are nearly the last one on my list, so you'll just have to do until I finally get my hands on your brother-" Lucifer froze.

Sam's eyes widened, a sense of clarity gleaming in them for the first time since Lucifer had found him in the Empty.

"Br-brother?" Sam breathed out.

"No, no, no, no, Sam, don't you dare-"

But it was too late. Memories started flooding Sam's mind. Memories of being protected, laughing, hope, anger, joy, sadness, pranks, fighting, making up, giving up everything for one another, how Sam had given up his life for him.

For Dean.

Chapter Text

With a new sense of defiance and determination, hell, practically whole new definitions of the words, Sam stared Lucifer down.

"I remember Dean." He said simply.

Lucifer's upper lip twitched. "Yeah, I can see that."

Having gained his memories back, Sam too felt the humiliation and shame at every bit of weakness he had shown in Lucifer's presence. Not to mention how he'd said 'yes,' oh God, he'd let Lucifer possess him again! But Sam pushed away those thoughts. He'd taken down Lucifer within his own mind once before, he could do it again. He had to do it again.

"Well…" Lucifer broke the silence. "We gonna do the whole 'battle for control of your body' thing now?"

"Damn straight." Sam steeled himself.

Lucifer sighed. "Alright." In a flash, the Devil Sam knew all too well returned. "I'll start."

Before Sam could even flinch, manacled chains snapped around his wrists, and yanked him to his knees. He grit his teeth and tugged against the metal, but then more joined to lock down his feet, and a metal collar even swopped down and wrapped around Sam's throat, barely able to breathe.

Lucifer reached out and snaked a hand around Sam's jaw, tilting his head up, forcing him to wheeze in each trickle of air.

"Don't get hopeful now, Sammy. You may remember your brother now, but I'm still worlds stronger than you. This body is mine now. Won it fair and square."

"Not if I revoke my consent." Sam quipped. "Now get the hell out of m-" The collar promptly constricted, cutting Sam off. Lucifer then conjured up a strip of cloth. Knowing what he was planning on doing with it, Sam tried to keep his mouth shut, but the chains continued to grow tighter and tighter, until Sam was finally forced to try to gasp in a breath, and Lucifer immediately stuffed the gag in, and tied it around Sam's head. Sam jerked in his chains, emitting a muffled growl.

"You know," Lucifer mused. "I think it could be better this way. Now, when I rip apart your mom, Castiel, and your brother, I'll get to listen to you beg for their lives."

Sam lunged as far forward as he could in his chains, shouting what they both knew to be empty threats.

Lucifer smirked at the helpless human.

"Sit tight, Sammy. You're about to have a front row seat to everyone you love dying at your hands."

To Lucifer's amusement, Sam gave another useless shout, and then Lucifer gripped his chin.

"But before I can start the show, there's just one little thing you're gonna do for me." His hold tightened. "You're gonna tell me your brother's phone number."


"Dean." A voice called to him distantly. Dean didn't want to open his eyes. His head hurt too much.

"Dean." Said another voice. "Please wake up, we don't have time. We need to find Jack."

Jack?

Dean's eyes shot open.

Jack.

He immediately sat up, wincing at the sensitivity in his head. He reached a hand up towards it, and felt his fingers come in contact with a fairly large lump. It also felt vaguely sticky, which meant he'd hit it rather hard.

"You back with us?" Mary asked, now by her boy's side. She looked at him, because she knew better than to believe him if he said he was okay.

"Yeah, I'm okay." He answered. Mary squinted, but after she gave him another onceover she determined that he wasn't lying. "What about you two?"

"Fine." She and Castiel answered in tandem.

"How long were we out?"

"Several hours." Answered Castiel. "Jack knew what he was doing when he knocked us out."

Dean dropped his gaze. "How could he just give himself up like that?"

Castiel sighed. "It is what any of us would have done to keep one another safe. He- he really loved us."

"Whoa, take it easy." Dean stepped in. "Don't start talking about him like he's gone, we're gonna find him."

"How?" Mary asked solemnly.

"Cas, you've gotta have something." Dean practically pleaded.

Shaking his head, Castiel admitted, "Nothing easy. The best, and likely only option would be to find the location of the British Men of Letters base, and hope that that is where Jack is."

"And if it's not?"

Castiel grit his teeth, and anger flashed through his eyes. Dean didn't see that look often, but when he did, it still managed to scare him. "Then we find someone who can- who will tell us where he is."

Dean nodded. "Damn straight. Where should we start?"

"What about Mick?" Mary suggested. "He wasn't with them when they showed up at the bunker, and he never seemed fully on board with how far they took things with Sa- Sam." She flushed, wishing she hadn't brought it up, but she couldn't take it back now.

"Y-yeah." Dean gave a small nod. "That's a good idea. He gave us his phone number, didn't he?"

Mary nodded, pulled out her phone, dialed the Brit's number, and then put it on speakerphone. All three of them sat in silence, praying that he would answer. Each ring was another blow to their ever-diminishing hope. When a monotone voice finally spoke, an unsympathetic tone informing them that the person they had called could not be reached at the time, Mary ended the call. She missed the ability to slam a phone down on a receiver, now she could only flick her thumb down on a screen, no real way to show her anger.

"Damnit." She sighed.

"Did the voice tell you to leave a message?" Castiel asked.

"There's no point." Dean huffed. "If he won't answer our calls, no way he's listening to our messages."

"So what do we do?" Mary asked. "Just keep calling?"

"It's our best shot." Said Dean. "But in the meantime, we hit the books and hope one of 'em's got the location of any other bunkers here in the U.S."

"And if they don't?" Castiel asked.

Dean's jaw clicked. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. Now c'mon, we don't got any time to lose."


A sudden burst of light had Jack squinting and tensing as he startled in his bonds. He shifted as his eyes adjusted to the light, and he was able to make out the face looming above him. Ketch, if he remember correctly.

"Hello." He greeted. "Did you have a pleasant ride?"

Jack frowned. He'd been cramped in the trunk of a car for several hours. How on Earth would he have been comfortable? He shook his head. His brow deepened further when Ketch just chuckled at his response.

"Come along, lad." He gripped Jack by the back of his collar, and hauled him up and out of the trunk. Jack realised too late that his legs felt- off, and he found himself unable to stand. His legs felt weak, and tingly, and they were mildly numb, but they somehow still hurt too.

He glanced up at Ketch pleadingly. He couldn't help but be afraid of what was happening to him.

Ketch just rolled his eyes at him. "Wonderful. There's just enough human in you for your legs to fall asleep."

Jack just tilted his head, a lost expression painting his face. How could his legs be sleeping? They weren't alive… were they?

Ketch gave an irritated huff. "Bloody hell, it's an expression." He yanked Jack back off the ground again, bearing most of his weight as the nephilim stumbled. "And to think Lady Bevill was actually afraid of you."

She was? But why? She'd never even met him, he'd never done anything to hurt her. Or anyone. Maybe his father- Lucifer, he inwardly corrected himself- had hurt them. Jack just never wanted to hurt anyone. Especially not his friends.

He was dragged forward again, and he was grateful to realise that he once again had feeling in his legs. He was ushered into a large building, going through all sorts of doors, and he was finally pushed into a chair in the middle of a dimly lit room. A swarm of people followed Ketch in, all holding numerous weapons.

"Now, Jack," Ketch said softly, but Jack couldn't find any comfort in his voice. "I'm going to briefly undo those handcuffs, but if you try anything, well…" He glanced towards the armed Men of Letters. "Let's just say that these weapons may not be able to kill you, but you'll likely wish they had. Understand?"

Not really. Jack was cooperating, why were they being so forceful with him? Maybe Dean had been right about them, and he shouldn't have handed himself over to these people. No. This was the right choice. If he hadn't done this, then they would have hurt, or even killed his friends, so he nodded.

"Good answer." Ketch smiled, and unlocked the cuffs only to force the link through a bar in the back of the chair, effectively shackling Jack to it. Ketch yanked on Jack's wrists, testing the stability, and he was delighted to hear the creature give a frustrated grunt.

"Comfy?"

Jack frowned again. He was beginning to think that Ketch didn't really care about his comfort at all.

Ketch turned to the people standing behind him, and waved them away.

"Sir," One of them spoke up, "Are you sure-"

"Would I have ordered you to leave if I wasn't?" He sharply cut them off. "Now go. Me and-" He paused. "Jack," He sounded almost amused. "Have some chatting to do."

The rest of the Men of Letters left, so Jack was now completely alone with Ketch. He swallowed.

"Don't seem so worried, lad." Ketch said as he moved behind Jack, untying the gag. Jack licked his lips. "We're just going to have a nice, little talk."

A talk? Okay, that wasn't so bad.

Then Ketch suddenly grabbed Jack by the jaw, and forced him to look into Ketch's cold, unfeeling eyes.

"But if you don't answer every one of my questions willingly, I have ways of making you."

Jack couldn't take this treatment anymore. He wasn't a monster, he didn't deserve this, so he yanked his head out of Ketch's grip, and stared him down. "I've never hurt anyone. You don't need to be acting like this."

Ketch chuckled, entertained by Jack's outburst. "Now that's not entirely true, is it? You hurt the ones you claimed were your friends when you gave yourself up to us."

"Because you were going to kill them." Jack snapped back.

"They were protecting a monster."

"What exactly makes me a monster? I know that I am half of my father, but I am also half of what you are, human. I came here with you willingly because I'd hoped to better understand my powers, how to use them to help people. But I'm starting to see that you don't want to help me, you just want to use me, and hurt me. So to me, it seems like the only monster here is you."

Ketch was the one who snapped this time, with a vicious backhand to Jack's face, and he quickly yanked his head up to make Jack meet his gaze.

"You are nothing but just another insect to be squashed, you are only alive as long as you are useful." He shook Jack's head out of his grip, a new rage roaring in his eyes. "And since you apparently have no further desire to cooperate, I will have to turn toward less pleasant methods of dealing with you." He turned his back to Jack, and began rifling through a duffel bag.

Jack flinched backwards as Ketch brought out a knife, much like one of the many knives he'd seen in Dean's collection. Jack had been hurt a few times in his relatively short life, and he had always healed instantaneously. He almost chuckled at the memory of the failed attempt to get him a tattoo. But he didn't really feel like laughing at the moment.

Without another word, Ketch thrusted the blade forward into Jack's shoulder, and he screamed at the sudden agony. Ketch quickly ripped the blade out, and stared at the wound, watching in awe as it quickly closed up, no trace of the injury left behind.

"Fascinating." Ketch breathed out.

Jack was confused. "Wh-what was that for?"

"An angel's ability to heal has always been an intriguing but elusive topic of interest for the Men of Letters. We've wanted nothing more than to utilise that ability for ourselves. Hunting is a dangerous profession, you understand." He turned around again, but Jack was still able to make out Ketch assembling some kind of needle. "So, if we were to harness an angel's ability to heal, well," He turned around, and had far too eager of an expression as he approached the futilely struggling Jack. "Surely you can see how convenient that would be for us."

"What is that?" Jack couldn't take his eyes off the needle. It was much different than the one the man had used at the tattoo shop, and he felt instinctively more afraid of it.

"Oh, just something one of our resourceful pencil pushers came across in one of our many bunkers. It's specifically made for extracting grace out of angels. You wouldn't mind loaning some of yours, would you?"

Actually, Jack would mind. He had no idea if he could survive without his grace. Or if he could, what the consequences would be. Would he still be able to heal himself if he got hurt? What if they took too much? Could they take out so much power that he wouldn't be- himself anymore? With all those panicked questions flying through his head, one thought rose above them all; he missed Castiel. But he couldn't run into his father's arms right now, all he could do was hopelessly shake his head.

"D-don't. Please."

Ketch only smiled at him, and then jammed the needle in, and slowly pulled back on the plunger. He didn't really have to go slowly, but the boy had started annoying him, and needed to be taught a lesson.

So when the boy, the monster, started screaming in pain, Ketch's smile only grew wider.

Chapter Text

As yet another scream died down, Sam collapsed as much as his chains would allow, panted breaths coming out as muffled moans behind the gag, All too quickly, a hand found its way into his hair, and yanked his head up. He fought the tears that were threatening to fall, but he couldn't hold back his whimper.

"C'mon, Sammy," Lucifer crooned. "I'm really not asking much of you right now. You don't even have to tell me Dean's number, all you've got to do is stop fighting me so damn much," The hold on Sam's hair tightened. "And all this pain will stop." The painful grip shifted to a gentle caress, and suddenly Sam longed for the pain over this mockery of comfort. "Don't you want that? To end all of the hurt?"

"So you can torture everyone I love to death in front of me? I fail to see how that would be 'stopping the pain.'" Sam thought bitterly. Unfortunately, since he and Lucifer were currently sharing the same mind Lucifer heard the thought too. He apparently didn't find it too amusing, and he forced his blade under Sam's ribcage. Sam gagged emptily at the agony, his breath stolen from him.

"Just think." Lucifer said, leaving the knife embedded. "No one would blame you for thinking about a few set of numbers to save yourself all this pain." He paused, but as the silence went on for longer and longer, Lucifer sneered, and then shoved the blade in further. Sam found the energy to scream this time. "Sam, I have broken you over and over again, don't think I won't be able to-" He stopped, because he suddenly had a new thought.

Sam Winchester would keep fighting him forever if he knew he was protecting his family. He'd broken Sam in the Cage all those years ago because they boy had had nothing left. But now, he was trying to keep his screwed-up family safe, so he'd never give up. At least not soon enough for Lucifer's non-existent patience.

But this Sam, although still infuriatingly defiant, he was severely more desperate. He hadn't had a pleasant memory in Lucifer doesn't really care how long. Lucifer wouldn't be able to torture the information that he needed out of him, as much as he'd like to.

Sam would have to want to remember.

Still not removing the knife out of Sam's abdomen, Lucifer snapped his fingers, and another cloth slid over Sam's eyes. He didn't want the boy to have to worry about any distractions. The space the two of them occupied went entirely dark. Sam shifted uncomfortably, tensing in his chains, unsure and fearful of what Lucifer had in mind next.

Perfect.

The blade did not leave Sam's chest. Lucifer intensified his grip, flicking the pommel of the knife with his thumb, vibrating the blade against his bones, ensuring that Sam wouldn't forget it was there.

"Sam," Lucifer whispered right in his ear, too gently. Sam always got so easily and delightfully unnerved when he was this close. "You're in a lot of pain right now, right?"

Sam huffed into the gag as if to say, "No kidding."

"And you're all alone. No one to protect you, to save you. It doesn't have to be that way, it wasn't always that way. You've been here before, haven't you? In pain, all alone, waiting for someone to save you."

Memories began flashing across the once black space. Times in which Sam had been captured by monsters or humans alike, occasionally being tortured, and Lucifer watched those moments with glee.

"Who was willing to let the world be consumed by the Darkness just so you wouldn't have to be my little bitch again?"

The image of Dean and Castiel standing side by side as they futilely tried to fend off the Devil to protect Sam played in his mind.

"Who struck that deal with Death to rescue your soul from the Cage?"

Dean watching in an odd mix of hope and horror as Death shoved Sam's soul in.

"Or when you were trapped in that fire in your apartment?"

Dean breaking down the door and whisking Sam away from the flames.

"Who pulled you from your crib while you mother burned and bled above you? Who has sacrificed everything time and time again for you?"

The bombardment of images was unstoppable now. Dean relentlessly coming to Sam's rescue, embracing him, patching up his wounds, simply being there with and for him.

Beneath the blindfold, tears hard started forming in Sam's eyes. He longed for nothing more than to be comforted by his brother. He missed him so much, too much, so he cried at the loss. He couldn't help it.

"Let him save you, Sam. He doesn't want you to hurt anymore, he wants to protect you."

Sam was choking on his breath now, trying to tug free of the restraints as well as the forced replay of all the memories he'll never feel the like of again.

A painfully soft voice whispered in his ear. "Just let go. You need to call Dean. He wants to come save you, you just need to let him, Sammy."

Before he could stop it, the numbers rushed through Sam's mind. All of his suffering had built up too intensely, and his subconscious had done the only thing he could do, what it had always done. It reached out for his brother.

Lucifer's victorious laughter broke Sam free of his trance.

Oh, God… What had he done?

Sam willed away the thought, but he and Lucifer both knew it was too late now. Sam desperately tried to shout and shake his head, the collar limitng his mobility, but he couldn't care less about self-preservation. Not when he had just given his worst nightmare the only thing that stood in his way of destroying everything and everyone he'd ever loved.

"There." Lucifer cooed, almost tenderly lifting Sam's head up. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" He didn't see Sam's eyes,, but he didn't need to. Lucifer knew Sam was crying. The boy was even trying to speak now too. Maybe he was begging. How adorab;e.

Curious, Lucifer snapped his fingers, then the blindfold and gag vanished. Sam gasped in air, although sobbing in breaths was a more accurate way of putting it. The pathetic human quaked in fear and self-loathing at his moment of weakness. What a delicious picture.

"Go ahead, Sammy." Lucifer smiled. "Beg for your family's lives."

A whimper left Sam. Nothing he said would stop Lucifer, but maybe if he played this game, he might at least make it quick.

"Pl-please." Sam's shaking voice was barely audible. "Please, you can do whatever you want to me-"

"Already have, and I still can." Lucifer cut him off. "Try harder."

"I- I-…" Sam stuttered, but the more he tried to think of something to say, the further his head fell forwards, resigning to the truth. "I- I don't have anything to offer you."

There it was.

"Exactly." Lucifer said. "You've got nothing to bargain with, and we both know you're too weak to beat me right now. So sit tight, and enjoy the show."

"No!" Sam yelled, but Lucifer disappeared from Sam's head. Lucifer heard Sam continue to scream and shout within his mind. Soon his cries would be joined by what remained of his family, and oh how wonderful it would be.

But first, he had to make a phone call.


"Dammit!" Dean shouted in frustration, shoving away yet another useless book off the tale.

"Dean," Mary said softly. "I know you're angry-"

"Of course I'm angry, nothing here is getting us any closer to finding Jack!" He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I need a drink."

"You've already had-" Castiel started only to be cut off by Dean.

"Thanks for keeping track for me, Cas, but I don't want to hear it. I'm getting a damn drink."

But before he could reach yet another glass of whiskey, his phone started ringing. Everyone's heads turned towards it in confusion. Dean picked up his cell, and briefly stared at the unknown number.

"Maybe it's Mick?" Mary suggested. "Didn't want to use a phone that the Brits could track."

Dean nodded, but he still answered warily. "Hello?"

There was a pause.

"D-… Dean?"

He dropped the phone. There was no way. It literally couldn't be.

They had all heard it. Sammy's voice on the other end. But it just wasn't possible.

"Dean, please." Sam- no, not Sam, it couldn't be because he was gone, dead, in a place unreachable even for a Winchester. But dammit if that plea didn't break Dean's heart. "I know what you're thinking, but you have to believe me, it's me. I don't know how it's possible either, but every time I close my eyes, I- I see him. L-Lucifer. He's trying to find me, Dean, I- I don't know, maybe he brought me back, but just- I need help. Please just come find me."

Silence encompassed the bunker, no one dared to even breathe too loudly. The moment floated above them as a fragile bubble of hope, and they all feared how the simplest sound could pop it.

"S-someone say something." Sam's voice pleaded.

Dean closed his eyes. "This isn't real." He breathed. "There's just- no way."

"H-He did mention Lucifer." Castiel offered. "What if he really did bring Sam back to try to make him agree to be his vessel again?"

"Does he really have that kind of power?" Mary asked.

"No," Castiel explained. "But Death does, and he has bound him before."

"So," Mary said, daring to hope. "It's possible?"

"Guys," Sam's voice cut in. "I swear, I'm me, and I'll do whatever tests you want in person, but if Lucifer is really out here I don't want to be here alone, but I don't want him coming anywhere near the bunker. I- I'm not sure where I am, but there's some signs for Route 83, and I'm outside a Biggerson's, so- could you just- meet me here? Wherever this is…"

Mary quickly looked up the location. "It's about an hour away."

No one had yet to address Sam, until Dean finally picked up the phone off the ground.

"Alright." He said with a calmness that opposed the conglomerate of high intensity emotions flooding the room. "We'll meet you. But I swear to God, I'm bringing every supernatural test we have, and if you're something other than my brother, I will make you regret the day you'd even heard the name Winchester. I'll make you wish you were in Hell."

The voice on the other end gave a soft, sad laugh. "I've missed you, Dean. I'll be waiting for you." Without another word, he hung up.

Silence swallowed up the space once more.

"Well," Mary said finally. "Are we going?"

"We have to." Dean said. "Either we're killing the son of a bitch that's pretending to be him, or…" He laughed with no real humour. "I- I don't even want to say it. I'm too afraid it's not gonna be real."

"No matter what," Castiel clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder. "We will be there with you. But I am willing to be hopeful. You need this, you deserve this win, Dean."

Dean nodded, quickly wiping his eyes. He had never been one for prayers, but in that moment, Dean allowed all his hope to pour out of him to anyone and anything that might be listening. More than anything, Dean needed this to be real.

"Okay." He said at last. "Let's move."


"St-stop!" Jack pleaded helplessly for what must have been the dozenth time. He was jerking in the handcuffs, seizing even as more grace was ripped out of him. He wasn't sure why he kept begging, he knew it wasn't doing him any good.

"Nearly done, lad." Ketch said without a trace of sympathy. Hell, it seemed like he was even enjoying it. He had filled countless vials of Jack's painfully extracted grace. Jack could feel it slowly trying to replenish itself, emphasis on slowly, but it still hurt like hell.

"Aaaand, there!" Ketch proclaimed as he yanked the needle from Jack's skin, tipping it into yet another vial. "Only one more to go after this one."

"Wh-why are you doing this?" Jack panted. "Y-you can't possibly need that much."

"Well," Ketch said after a pause. "Truth be told, I'm not just working for the Men of Letters. Someone else has taken a great interest in your power."

Jack frowned. "Who?"

Ketch smiled. "Well, it's a tad complicated. The shorthand version, it's one of the last remaining knights of hell. His name is Asmodeus."

Jack didn't care about his name. Ketch was working with a demon!

"I-I'll tell them what you're doing." Jack warned shakily. "They'll stop you."

Ketch only laughed. "You really think they'll believe the word of a monster over the word of one of their own?"

"I am not a monster!" Jack insisted yet again. "I- I just wanted to help my friends."

"If you cooperate, then I'll give you a chance to talk some sense into them. If not, well… Let me just say that it would be in everyone's best interest if you got through to them."

Jack shifted nervously in his seat. "What do you mean?"

"Well, when Asmodeus appeared after a hellhound nearly went wrong, he offered me a proposition. He'd either let his hounds finish me off, or I join him, and gives me the ability to control the hunters topside, while he deals with the matters of Hell, and we make sure to stay out of each other's way. It wasn't too hard of a choice, what with the mutt's paw about to shatter my windpipe."

"You could've said no! Dean, Mary, and Castiel would have all said no! Y-you don't have to do this!"

"But I do, and more importantly, I actually want to now as well." He checked his watch. "He's going to be here for a visit soon. He wants to know if you'll make a nice new pet for him."

Jack felt his stomach drop. He couldn't let this happen, he wouldn't let a demon use him to hurt anyone. Panic started rising, and fury rode along with it. None of this was fair, he hadn't done anything wrong, yet people keep trying to use him to hurt someone. This. Wasn't. Fair.

He looked up to see Ketch preparing the final needle. And he lost it.

"No." Jack said, shaking his head, and clenching his teeth, tightly gripping the chair. "No!"

Something then burst from inside Jack, an unrestrained bout of unchecked rage exploding from him. A light filled the entire room, and Jack heard screaming.

And that was when he blacked out.


The hour drive somehow felt both longer, and faster than that. It may have been due to everyone's unwillingness to speak. The bubble still hovered precariously above them, and there was no telling the kind of destruction that would be unleashed should it pop.

"Dean." Castiel spoke up. "Something's not right."

"Nothing about this feels right." Dean said as he parked the car outside of the abandoned looking restaurant.

"No, I mean I feel something." Castiel swallowed as realisation dawned on him. "Dean, it-it's Lucifer. He's close."

"How close?"

"I don't know exactly. But this can't be a coincidence. This has to be a trap, Dean."

Dean didn't hesitate. "I don't care. I've saved Sammy from that son of a bitch before, so if this really is Sam, nothing is gonna keep me from him."

"But-"

"No!" Dean snapped. "We've been here before, I know I can do this." He took a breath to calm himself. "Here's the plan. I go in, find Sam, and if I'm not out in five minutes, that's when you and mom come in with everything we've got. If Lucifer's in there, he doesn't need to know all of us are here." His gaze went severe. "But no matter what, your priority is getting Sam out."

"No." Mary cut, her voice equally as intense. "Our priority is getting our family back together. We're not leaving anybody behind." Her expression hardened. "I am not losing anyone else today. So just-" She sighed. "Be careful, Dean. We'll be right here, ready for whatever might happen.

They all nodded in agreement, and Dean went to go forward. Towards Sam.

Dean noted the ajar door to the now empty Biggerson's, and his grip on his angel blade tightened. With his other hand, he clutched his flask of salt laced holy water. He really wasn't sure what to expect when he headed inside.

But a sudden scream followed by the sight of a bloody and writhing Sam on the ground was pretty far down the list.

Despite not being certain that the man in front of him was truly Sam, Dean couldn't fight his big brother instincts. He rushed to Sam's side, and flung the holy water in his face, and felt minor relief at the lack of a reaction. But then Sam's arms clutched at Dean's as he writhed in pain.

"D-Dean," He gasped. "You h-have to go. L-Lucifer's here, h-he made me call you. I-I'm sorry, but I just c-couldn't take it anymore."

"Where is he now, Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "I- I don't know. He said y-you were almost here, and-" Sam voice cut off with a sharp shout when Dean suddenly sliced him with the angel blade. The glow of grace that seeped out of the cut then gave him away. What Dean now knew to be Lucifer angrily shoved him away, and the rest of his wounds began to heal.

"That obvious, huh?" Lucifer asked.

"I don't care how long you've been inside his head. You are nothing like him, so don't think that you could ever pretend to be him, you son of a bitch."

"Careful, Dean, that's our mother you're talking about." He chuckled at Dean's clear and forced down fury.

"If you don't get out of him right now, I swear-"

"Let me stop you right there. You're not gonna do a damn thing, not while I'm still wearing your brother." He said rolling Sam's eyes. "Surprised you haven't asked me 'how' yet."

"I don't care." Dean snapped, rage roaring in his eyes, but they both knew there truly wasn't anything he could do short of banishing him, but he wasn't about to give up the only lead he had on getting his brother back. He had to have been alive at some point in order to give his consent.

"Really?" Lucifer asked, mildly shocked. "You don't care about how your brother absolutely broke in the Empty? How he passed the time by carving himself up, how he completely forgot who you are, and then I destroyed what was left of his sanity and got him to say 'yes?'"

"Oh, I want to know, but not from you. Sammy's gonna tell me when I get him free."

"Hm." Was all Lucifer said. "Enough small talk." Suddenly, he was right in Dean's face. "Where. Is. My. Son?"

Dean couldn't help but chuckle. "I know you're not gonna believe me, but I really don't know. But rest assured, even if I did, I wou-" He was cut off when Lucifer abruptly punched him in the face.

"'Wouldn't tell me,' yeah, I figured." Lucifer finished for him. "Well lucky for you, I believe you. Since you don't know," He smiled in a wat that looked so wrongly malicious on Sam's face. "There's absolutely no reason for me to keep you alive."

Lucifer watched Dean's eyes widen in brief panic, and that was when Lucifer took his own angel blade, and shoved it into Dean's heart.

Chapter Text

"No!" Sam screamed loud enough that his voice echoed within his own mind. The chains that had been keeping him captive suddenly vanished. He felt a gap in Lucifer's strength, and he charged forward, and took control.

The rush of autonomy did not phase him. He was too busy at last using his own eyes to stare at Dean's lifeless corpse. His own hands, now covered in his brother's blood, frantically felt for a pulse that deep down he knew he wouldn't find. He noted the beating of his own heart once more, but instead, all he felt was the way it turned to iron, cold, heavy, and unfeeling. The pain of losing his brother was not a new one, but oh, how it hurt. It stabbed, tore, and ate away at his weary soul.

Lucifer had killed Dean. No, he had killed Dean. If he hadn't given himself up to Billie, if he hadn't ever had said 'yes' to Lucifer, if he could've overpowered him, he-…

Before Sam could think about it too much, Sam grabbed the angel blade, and went to finish off his worst nightmare, ending his greatest disappointment as well. The blade was a mere inch from his chest when his other hand clamped onto his wrist with a strength he knew he didn't possess.

"Really, Sam?" Came Lucifer's voice from within his head. "You didn't think you actually overpowered me, did you? No, I just really love to watch you cry."

Without his consent, Sam's fingers loosened, and the blade fell. The grip on his wrist intensified until there was a pop, and Sam shouted at the pain, which Lucifer didn't seem to mind.

"Man, no matter how many times you watch him die, you still always turn into a pathetic, little bitch." Sam felt his head roll on his shoulders as Lucifer cracked his neck. Control slipped away from him once more, but Sam couldn't bring himself to care.

"Oh, stow the melodramatics, Sam." Lucifer snapped his fingers, and suddenly Dean lurched up with a gasp. "I'm not gonna actually kill him without a proper audience. It's just fun to listen to you break." He glanced down at the bewildered Dean. "Welcome back, buddy. How's Billie? Little slow it seems, glad I didn't miss you. I want Mary and her little lamb to see this happen again. You wouldn't mind calling them in, would you?" Not waiting for an answer, Lucifer snapped again, and Dean shot up with a scream of pain, blood spewing from his mouth as he clutched at his chest.

"Stop!" Sam tried to plea within his head.

"Any second now…" Lucifer bounced and rocked on Sam's heels. Castiel and Mary quickly came running in, and they gazed in confusion at the sight of Dean writhing in pain at 'Sam's' feet. Lucifer watched the gears turning in their heads until it finally clicked with them.

"Y-you…" Mary breathed.

Lucifer shrugged with a giddy smile. "Me." He clenched his fist, and then she and Castiel joined Dean on the ground, gasping in pain. "Okay! It's time for the show, Sammy! You're gonna be my co-host this evening. Welcome, Winchester family, to a brand new game called Who's on First?" He grinned. "Your job as co-host is gonna be picking the order that your family dies." His smile widened as he felt Sam's panic and horror skyrocket.

"Please don't make me do this." Sam heard himself beg. He was shocked to hear himself actually speak, but when Lucifer promptly resumed control, Sam realised that it was still just a part of the game. Lucifer wanted his family to hear him break.

"Either you pick, or I drag them all down the Cage. This way, all they have to do is die. This is a mercy, Sam. So. Who do you love the least?"

Sam came back to himself with a gasp that bordered on a sob. "Y-you can't make me answer that." It wasn't defiance that fueled that statement. It was nothing but a plea.

Lucifer flicked Sam's wrists, and the action was followed by three simultaneous crunches, and then three screams.

"I'll keep breaking bones until you do." Lucifer sing-songed.

"O-okay, okay!" Sam cried desperately.

"S-Sammy, don't!" Dean tried to yell, but another bout of agony shut him up.

"W-we-" Castiel panted. "We can take it." He then started vomiting blood, contradicting his previous statement.

"There's nothing, Sam." Lucifer told him. "No one left you come save them, no deus-ex-machina to pull out of your ass. You pick, and they die, nice and easy. Otherwise, they take a trip down to the Cage, and we see if we can set a new record for breaking under my knife. What was it, thirteen years for you? So go on, tell me who you love the least. And don't bother lying," He tapped their shared head. "I'll know."

"S-Sam…" Came Mary's voice. She looked up at him, a mixture of blood and tears trickling out of her eyes. "It-it's okay. I kn-know who you're g-gonna choose. And it's okay. I-I love you, Sam."

Sam shut his eyes, choking on his sobbed breaths. He tried to reach out to comfort her, but Lucifer forced his arm down, and that alone made him whimper. He was about to condemn his own mother to death, and he couldn't even hold her hand.

"I- I love you too, mom." He managed to say. "And I'm sorry. I'm s-so sorry."

She smiled at him as Lucifer raised his blade, as though she was trying to leave him with a final happy image of her before he slaughtered her with his own hands. Lucifer wielded the blade high, prepared to strike down, when suddenly, his and Castiel's hands went to their heads. Lucifer quickly snapped up, and he breathed out a single word.

"Jack." Lucifer looked at his prey, and he knew he had a choice to make. Finally swat the flies that had been bothering him for nearly a decade, or find his son that he had already lost once. No doubt other angels had felt that surge of power, and if anyone else got their hands on Jack before he did…

Without another thought, Lucifer made his choice, and vanished.


Consciousness slowly returned to Jack. His head throbbed so intensely that he couldn't see at first. He lifted his hand to hold it, hoping it would dissipate at least some of the tension.

Wait, since when could he move his hands?

His vision then returned to him, and now he saw Ketch lying in front of him, unmoving. The only movement he saw was the steady trickle of blood and smoke pouring out of Ketch's eyes.

Oh God, had- had he done this? He hadn't meant to, he- he was just scared.

Jack quickly got up and ran to the door.

"Help! I need some help in-" But then he saw the state of the guards that had been standing outside the door. They too had their eyes burnt out, and were collapsed on the ground, dead.

Jack's breaths started getting quicker, but he still felt like he couldn't breathe. He started running throughout the entire compound, praying that someone, anyone would be okay. But no such luck came.

"Hello?! Pl-please, is anyone there?" His voice quaked, his lungs aching as his throat started to collapse. Or at least, that was how it felt. His legs suddenly decided that they couldn't keep him up any longer, and he fell back against the wall, and slid to the ground. He gripped his hair as he too tried to grasp onto the reality of what he'd done.

"I- I killed them…" He gasped out. "I killed them all." He choked on his air as he began to cry, an unstoppable litany spewing from his mouth as breathing became irrelevant. Well, not that it actually was, but he literally just couldn't. The only thing he could do was panic.

"I killed them, I killed them, I killed them…" He was shaking his head as he cried out the horrific words. He started slamming his head against the wall, increasing the pain, but he didn't know what to do. He felt so scared, so helpless, so alone. He lowered his head onto his knees as despair overcame him, unable to stop sobbing now. He couldn't do this, he needed Castiel. If Castiel would still love him after this, although he wasn't sure he would. How could he love such a monster like him?

When a hand suddenly went to his shoulder, he truly believed it could have been Castiel. So it was much to his surprise and dismay when instead it was an intimidatingly tall man with long, brown hair. He smiled at Jack.

"Hello, son."

Jack's eyes went wide. "L-Lucifer…"

"It's good to finally meet you." Lucifer said sincerely.

"H-how," Jack panted. "How did you find me?"

"You're my son. We've got a connection. And that blast of power you sent out was practically a beacon."

Jack sobbed at the mention of it. "I- I didn't mean to. I didn't want to hurt anyone." He dropped his head again, until Lucifer gently lifted it up.

"Jack, I can feel your pain." Lucifer had a surprisingly soothing voice. "They hurt you first, they deserved it."

"No. No they didn't." Jack insisted. "Nobody deserves to die."

Lucifer couldn't help but laugh. "Someone's been feeding you lies. Humans are disgustingly flawed creatures. Here, let me show you what they're capable of." He tapped two fingers to Jack's forehead, and revealed to him the worst of humanity.

Lust.

Deceit.

Murder.

Mass genocide.

Some of Lucifer's person favourites, but Jack didn't need to know that. Should he be bombarding the boy with those horrific images when he's already so visibly shaken? Definitely not, but it was much easier to manipulate the vulnerable and broken.

"St-stop it!" Jack cried out, shoving away Lucifer's hand when he'd finally had enough. His shoulders heaved with heavy breaths.

"I'm sorry, son, but you had to see the truth. Humans are manipulative, lying, evil creatures."

Jack frowned, an anger gleaming in his eyes, and Lucifer did not appreciate how it appeared to be directed at him. "Didn't you turn them that way?"

Lucifer laughed to hide his sneer. "If I pointed out to you that you could steal a car, it would still be your fault if you took it. That's what happened with humanity. I showed them the choice to fall from God, and they took it, so that wasn't my fault. It just goes to show you how easily they can be corrupted, how they wanted to be corrupted."

Jack's head fell into his hands again. "I just want to go home."

Gently lifting Jack's head up, Lucifer said, "You are home. You're with me now, and I promise, I'm going to keep you safe."

With a new sense of awareness and defiance, Jack shoved Lucifer away. "No! I'm not going anywhere with you!" He knew what this monster truly was, and he trusted Castiel and Dean over him any day. "I'm going back to my family, and you just- you just leave me alone!" He thrusted out his hands with the intention of throwing Lucifer back, but it did nothing more than flow a light breeze through Lucifer's hair, and give Jack an immensely painful headache. He collapsed to the ground for just a moment before Lucifer hauled him up by the collar.

"Did you really just try to use your powers against me?" Lucifer asked, voice laced with fury. "You really think you have what it takes to knock me down?" His eyes went bright red as he roared, "Wrong! I made you, kid, and I could destroy you without even blinking." He closed his eyes and inhaled. When he opened them again, his eyes were back to the soft hazel. "But I won't, because you are my son, so I am willing to let this one slide. Together, Jack, we could remake the world in our image. We'd be unstoppable. Now," He smiled and Jack subsequently felt uncomfortable. "What do you say?"

Jack glanced up, clenching his fists. He felt himself channeling his father, as well as Dean, and snapped two small words at the Devil himself.

"Eat me."

And with a flick of his angel blade, Lucifer did.

Jack gasped in surprise as the knife slashed across his throat, and he felt the familiar ache of grace draining out of him, this time at a far greater speed. Oh, God, it hurt!

Right before he could feel the last of it slipping away, Lucifer closed up the wound. For what felt like the dozenth time, Jack fell to the floor. He managed to bring up his head to see Lucifer shaking with the intensity of having consumed Jack's grace. Wings, bright, beautiful, and terrifying wings, sprouted from Lucifer's back, and instead of the previous red, his eyes glowed a powerful gold. Jack's gold.

"Okay." Lucifer said, grabbing Jack by the collar once more as his wings retracted away. "You don't want to be my son, fine. Then you get to be my keg. Anytime I need a boost, you'll give it to me. Just remember, you chose this."

And with that, they were both gone.