A/N: Just my own little thoughts on where Sam was during AHBL brought on by rewatching season three.
Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural.
"How certain are that what you brought back is 100 percent pure Sam?" -Azazel, All Hell Breaks Loose, Part 2.
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. Quit squirming, you're not going anywhere." Azazel held tighter to the bundle of light currently accupying his hand. It was Sam's soul, all bright and pure and wiggiling to get away from him. It was amusing, really. Enough to give him a quick chuckle.
"Oh, Sam, if you could see yourself; trying so hard to get to the Great Beyond. Don't worry, there'll be plenty of time for that later, it won't be the same, oh no. After what you're going to do, you won't be allowed 'up there' ever." He smiled as the soul fought harder, more desperately. "Now there's no need for that, all you need is a little push in the right direction and before you know it you'll be all on board."
He had to give it to Sam, he was a fighter. And that is part of what made him 'the one'. That fight, that edge that kept him going. Yes, he was going to be perfect.
He squeezed Sam in his hand, earning him a small, soul equivalent, of a whimper.
He smiled down at it, "It's interesting, isn't it? How much power a soul has. That's right Sammy boy, souls are the currency of today! Why do think when demons make deals they ask for souls? Because souls. Have. Power. And yet here you are, trapped by my hand." Pause. "Sam, I thought we were past this, quit struggling. We're gunna be here until big brother decides to make his own deal. Yep, you heard right, Sammy, dear ole Dean is going to make a deal just for you. I'd bring you back myself, but there are rules to these things. I know, I know, they'll drive ya crazy, but hey! There's always a loophole."
Sam's soul didn't stop bumping against his captor, trying again and again for freedom. He smiled down at it, squeezing a little harder this time, leaving behind a small dark spot so faint it was nearly unnoticeable. But it was enough.
"Ooooh the stuff they'll do to him down there. Mm! It will give a whole new meaning to the word 'Hell'. Even Daddy dearest isn't getting the presidental suite they're expecting for Dean. He is going to be under the best of the best, the Mozart of demons. Who knows, maybe I'll jump down and see him every now and then."
Anger radiated off of Sam in waves, this was going better than expected. He squeezed again, the shaded spot darkening just a tiny bit. Like he said, Sam is a fighter, it wasn't going to be easy getting him from point A to point B, but certaintly wasn't impossible.
"And the plans we have in store for you, Sam. You are going to be something else entirely. You-you are going to be the savior of my kind, Sammy. Going to hand the world right over to us. It's true, you can't stop what's coming, son. And it's going to be big." He sighed. "Sam, you should really stop moving around so much, you might get hurt." He squeezed, the soul cried this time, the bruise pale, but visible. Perfect. "Oops, my hand slipped." He smirked.
"Y'know, stictly speaking, demons aren't usually allowed to man-handle souls like this. Corupts them. But you and I, Sam, we're connected. By blood and destiny and all that good stuff. Loopholes." He paused, "Nobody can save you from this, Sam. It would make my job a helluva lot easier if you just excepted that."
He sighed when Sam kept at his fighting, albeit weakly. "Fine, have it your way. But this isn't going to end kindly for you, I was just trying to help. It will end though, and it will end painful and bloody. You can't say I never tried, though. So good luck with that."
He was silent for a minute, it was almost time.
"Well, kiddo, your brother's callin' for ya. Hope you enjoy your last year with him." He winked; finally releasing the trapped soul, watching as it went, not to Heaven, but back the way it came.
This war was just begining.
