A/N: I feel I should warn you before we start that this story contains a hell of a lot graph description of torture. This is likely to cause distress to a lot of people and I advise rethinking your choice before you decide to read this. Also it contains rape, rape whilst being tortured, incest, verbal abuse, knife and blood play and one hell of a lot of angst and self hate.
Also I do not own any rights to any of these characters; this is a complete work of fiction. A friend dared me to do this one night, we where both extremely drunk as she had bet me a substantial amount of money I will not be able to see this through to the end. I have to say that at the moment I think I am doing quite well but we shall see.
Please do not hate me for this and as always your comments are always welcome. Thank you for your time and may Cas the stand in king of heaven not kill you because he can't understand your sarcasm.
Life One The Edge Of A Blade
Sam's heart was pounding in his chest, his breath laboured as he pressed himself back into the rough sheets that covered the cheap motel bed that he had collapsed onto just over an hour ago. His skin burned cold, itching as the ghost of a touch ever so slowly pealed the flesh from muscle and bone all the while that soft monotone voice whispering gentle encouragement and promises of more to come.
He could feel his cool breath fanning out across his hot ear as his slick tongue snuck out to lick the dried blood from the side of his abused face. Images of dark, cavernous rooms filled with silver meat hooks that dangled from an unseen ceiling, blood and flesh and gore hanging from them, a constant reminder of what had happened and what was yet to come.
Slamming his eyes shut even tighter Sam fisted the sheets, desperately trying not to make a sound that would alert his brother to what was happening just an arm's length away from him. Rolling onto his front Sam buried his face into the pillow willing his hallucinations away, for that was all they were. They were just his brain trying to process his long buried memories of his time in Hell. He knew they weren't real, he knew he wasn't back there but it didn't stop him from feeling it all again as if he was living it through once more.
Sighing in frustration Sam's eyes slammed open, his sight adjusting to the darkness abnormally quick for a human but a little too slow for a hunter. Instantly his eyes sought out Dean's sleeping form transfixed as his chest rose and fell, his pale pink lips parted slightly, letting his gentle breath escape.
He looked so young when he slept, so full of life and free of worry, perfectly at ease. Guilt filled Sam instantly, turning his stomach and filling him to the brim with self hate. He knew he was responsible for more that his fare share of all the stress and worry and pain that Dean had been through in his life and he had been less then gracious in return.
Nine times out of ten he had been a bad brother, acted like a spoilt little brat and sure Dean could take some of the blame for that. He had spoilt Sam whenever he could when they were younger, always putting Sam's needs before his and all Sam managed to do was constantly throw it back in his face. Always fucking up one way or another. Always adding to Dean's already stressed life.
Groaning Sam rolled back onto his back, a large callous hand coming up to rub at his tired eyes. As soon as his eyes slipped closed he was assaulted by images of hungry mouths and sharp teeth slowly ripping away the meat from his bones, his screams echoing around the infonaut space as Lucifer's laughter reverberated in his ears.
A strangled cry escaped from between Sam's dry and cracked lips as his mind began to slip, his grasp on now and then fading as he lost himself to the sensation of pain like no other he had known before.
His time in Hell could be called many things but pleasant wasn't one of them. He had spent so long thrust up and exposed, days, weeks, months, years even. Forced to endure whatever sick, deprived, excruciatingly painful thing that Lucifer or Michael could come up with. Sometimes they would forget he was there, get so caught up in their own argument that everything else would just fade away.
It was in those moments that it became clear for Sam to see the similarities between himself, Dean and his two cell mates. Everything from the way they spoke to one another to the way they held themselves. It was so easy for him to see themselves in them that it made Sam glad that Dean wasn't around to draw the same conclusions because it was just plain heart breaking to think that they could end up at each other's throats like that.
More often than not though it was just him and Lucifer, all day and all night till something caught his eyes in a far off corner and the fallen angel would scuttle off only to return with a shaper blade and a new idea that would make Sam scream louder than he had before.
It went on like this for how long Sam didn't quite know, it was hard to keep track of time in the pit, until Sam had come to expect the pain. Welcome it almost. Till Lucifer's words had sunk deep enough that they had started to stick, until Sam need the pain because surly he deserved it.
It had been one of those days when distraction had made its self known in the form of Michael and almost instantly they had gone for one another, leaving Sam to hang from the cavernous roof, red hot hooks having been forced through the meat of his shoulders and the flesh of his wrists. Vast dried rivers of blood the only remains of Lucifer's previous session though Sam could still feel the cool blade as he had traced idle patterns on his stomach with the tip before shoving the six inch blade deep into his side, pulling it out and thrusting it back in as he made obscene comments about how pliant Sam's body was under his loving touch.
But now he hangs forgotten like an abandoned toy after it had lost its Christmas charm. The pain was fading fast, the ache in his shoulder now nothing more than a dull throb. Michael and Lucifer's words filled his mind sounding far too much like an argument he and Dean had had just before he left for Stanford.
As soon as the thought entered his mind the scene in front of him began to shift, the infant cave being replaced by a cheap crappy motel in the middle of God knows where. It was no longer Lucifer and Michael but a much younger Sam and Dean standing at either sides of the small room, faces red, fists clenched at their sides as they yelled accusations at one another.
Dean had always known how to cut Sam the deepest and he never pulled a punch even if he knew he would regret it afterwards. Dean was normally prey good at keeping his true feelings tucked away letting them simmer and fester till they were too much for him to contain and in the heat of the moment, the rush of an argument that had been a long time coming, everything had just come flooding out.
Sam was a bad brother, a worse son. An ungrateful, spoilt, selfish, little brat. Didn't he care? Didn't he want to get the thing that had killed mum? How could he just up and abandon family like that, after everything Dean had done for him, sacrificed for him? Was he that much of a coward?
As Dean's words had washed over him, sinking in and wrapping around him Sam had become more and more angry, his body shaking, fists tightening so much that his knuckles had gone white and his nails where starting to dig into his palm, cutting through the soft flesh.
Sam could play this game as well, he knew his brother better than anyone, hell he probably knew him a lot better than Dean thought he did. He called him names; things he knew would feel like little stabs in Dean's heart. Said sorry he couldn't be dads perfect little solider boy like Dean was. Told Dean he was so pathetic that he needed to follow the orders of an obsessive, absent, crazy old man who didn't want sons just bodies for his sad little army that would undoubtedly get them killed long before they found the monster they were hunting.
And in his worst moment, a moment he was almost 100% certain that Dean still hadn't forgiven him for he had said what was it to him if they found the demon? He had never known their mother, couldn't even remember her so why should he give a fuck if they avenged her death or not?
In the stunned and horrified silence that had followed afterwards Sam had felt his whole world shatter. He knew no matter what he said or did or hell even begged for forgiveness there was no way he could undo what he had just done.
With Dean's piercing gaze never leaving him Sam had grabbed his duffle bag off the bed and the bus tickets that had started this whole argument before wordlessly turning and heading out the door. He never looked back and Dean didn't try and stop him, not this time.
Clenching his fists Sam desperately tried to push the memories away. He didn't want to remember how shit a person he was to Dean, didn't want to think about Dean full stop. He needed a distraction and before he could really process what it was he was doing his cracked and dry lips where parting and a soft, broken please was clawing its way free of his raw and scream abused throat.
Instantly everything went still and silent. Razing his head to look was an effort that Sam wasn't expecting, his eye lids heavy as he willed them open. They were alone again, just the two of the now, just how Sam liked it. No angelic reminder of Dean hovering around to torment him, to split his heart in two.
Lucifer's eyes where full of humour and excitement, a wicked smile on his lips that was just full of promises. "Sorry Sammy what was that? Couldn't quite here you all the way over here". His voice was soft and polite like he was talking to a child and not a grown man who just hours ago he had had his fingers shoved deep into Sam's eye sockets as he yanked his eyes free.
Locking his gaze with Lucifer's, Sam took a deep unnecessary breath, mentally trying to prepare himself for the onslaught of pain and torment that he was willingly asking for. "Please". This time it come out stronger, less pleading more demanding. The Devils answering chuckle was enough to send shivers of dread down Sam's spine. What was he thinking provoking Lucifer of all people? He didn't need any more encouragement, another opportunity to inflict more suffering then he already had planned. He should have just kept his mouth shut and welcomed the break.
Sam couldn't do anything else but watch as Lucifer slowly approached, his hands coming up to roll up the sleeves of his button up shirt, his eyes hungrily roaming over Sam's body as if he couldn't decide what to do first, witch in all reality was probably true.
There were probably a hundred and one different things going though his mind right now that he wanted to do to Sam. A hundred and one different things that would make him scream and beg Lucifer to stop but Sam knew that because he had asked for it, begged for it even it would have to be something special, something he had never done before, something he had been saving for when Sam finally cracked and begged for it like the little whore that Lucifer had taken grate pleaser in telling Sam he was.
All too soon Lucifer was right in front of him, his cold hands pressed firmly against Sam's naked torso. His head was tilted back slightly so he could look Sam in the eyes as he leaned forward till his lips where once again next to his ear, his cold breath sending shivers down Sam's spine as it ghosted over his hot flesh. "Say it again".
Sam's head rolled back, his eyes slamming shut as a mix of dread and anticipation filled him. He was scared, he could admit that. Who wouldn't be? Everything that had come before was going to seem like Disney land compared to what was going to come next. Lucifer's right hand was rubbing gentle circles into his stomach as his left slowly slid up his chest, his blunt nails catching on Sam's nipple before coming to rest on his shoulder. Gritting his teeth Sam forced out a rough, whinnying please, hoping to an absent God that it would be the last time he would have to.
Lucifer's soft laughter drew him back to the man who was practically pressed against his front. "Oh Sammy you have no idea how much I have wanted to hear you say that". As he stopped speaking his grip on Sam's shoulder tightened till his nails where digging into his flesh, fresh trickles of blood running down his shoulder blade to join the dried pools from where he had been held down and the meat hooks forced through his shoulders.
But that brief pain was chased away as the hand that had been gently caressing his stomach curled into a fist and pushed hard through his weak flesh and into his kidney. The scream that tore its self from between Sam's lips echoed for what seemed like forever around the vast space, so loud and full of pain that he almost missed the pleasure filled moan that tickled the hair behind his ear. "You're so warm Sammy. Always so warm for me".
A gurgled cry escaped from between Sam's lips as Lucifer pushed his hand deeper and up, forcing Sam's warm blood to come gushing out from between his lips and dribble down his chin, trickling down his chest to join the torrent that was flowing from the hole in his stomach and seeping down into the waistband of his trousers.
Oh God it hurt so much, like a shaft of razor sharp ice twisting deep inside him. He could feel every flex of Lucifer's fingers as he forced his hand higher, pulling himself closer to Sam's pliant body as more of his arm disappeared deeper inside of Sam.
Sam's scream this time was full of pure agony as Lucifer ever so slowly uncurled his fist, his fingers almost gently tearing a hole through his lung. His fingers wiggled as he forced them deeper still, his nails scratching away till he came through the other side, his finger tips gently caressing his heart. Sam's breath was laboured, his eyes screwed tightly shut against the onslaught of pain. If he could get his brain to see past the agony Sam was sure he would be begging for Lucifer to stop, to make it go away. "Oh Sammy, my sweet little Sammy I am going to ruin you".
As his calm voice swirled around Sam Lucifer's fingers wrapped around his heart, his grip tightening till Sam's vision started the blur and he could no longer breathe. The last thing Sam saw was Lucifer's smug smile as he pulled away, his arm slipping free of Sam's body with relative ease. His own blood covering his pale skin all the way up to his mid forearm. His still beating heat was clasped tightly in his hand, blood dripping from it to pool at his feet.
Smirking Lucifer raised his hand to his lips, his tongue slipping out to lick the blood from his hand. As he pulled his lips away his grip tightened, crushing the beating organ till it was nothing more than a pile of dust in his hand. And just like that everything went black and Sam was plunged into nothingness.