Summary: Lucifer says Sam can't die. He begs to differ. When nothing works, he hunts. He saves people. He tries to repent. It's been years when Sam finally begins to notice that he isn't aging. He hunts and hunts and hunts while Lucifer makes his way through vessels. By the end, Sam doesn't even remember why he's saying no. "Say yes." The Devil demands. Sam smiles gently and says, "No".
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
Warnings: Attempted suicide in the beginning, a bit of angst, a bit of torture, gratuitous amounts of awesomeness *shrugs*, AU season 5 (more specifically episode 4), no romance of any kind, NOT a deathfic.
"Talking"
Thoughts
"Phone calls"
'Lucifer speaking mentally'
'Sam speaking mentally'
(Flashbacks to statements)
A/N: This fic was a total accident, and I literally did not mean to actually write it. I was just idly sketching out an idea between bouts of studying for my AP exams and blatantly not studying for my AP exams, and then my hands flipped the fuck out and wrote something. I don't even know. Unbeta-d but for myself.
A/N 2: Firstly, this was written during season 9, so I have no knowledge of Lucifer as he is now, or where Supernatural is at/going. Secondly, yes this might look familiar. I was trying to repost the chapter and I accidentally put it as a new chapter, whooops. Not that much of anyone was following it, but sorry to the people who followed me as an author and thought this was a brand spanking new chapter, it's not...a new chapter for What the Forest Holds will be posted within the week though, so if that's something that interests you, be on the lookout!
"Look, Sam—it doesn't matter—whatever we do. I mean, it turns out that you and me, we're the, uh, the fire and the oil of the Armageddon. You know, on that basis alone, we should just pick a hemisphere. Stay away from each other for good."
Sam feels his heart stutter in his chest. He swallows the lump in his throat, and says, "Dean, it doesn't have to be like this. We can fight it." Please don't leave me on my own.
There's a slight pause before Dean speaks again. "Yeah, you're right. We can." Sam allows himself to feel hope, but it's crushed when Dean speaks again, "But not together. We're not stronger when we're together, Sam. I think we're weaker. Because whatever we have between us—love, family, whatever it is—they are always gonna use it against us. And you know that. Yeah, we're better off apart. We got a better chance of dodging Lucifer and Michael and this whole damn thing, if we just go our own ways." Sam's heart breaks with every word.
"Dean, don't do this." He entreats, nearly begs.
Another pause.
"Bye Sam."
Sam sits motionless in his stolen car, one hand on the wheel, the other still holding his silent phone to his ear. He must've pulled over at some point, or maybe he's sitting in the middle of the road, but the car is no longer in motion. He's in a state of suspended disbelief, hoping beyond hope that this is all just a nightmare, and he'll wake up soon, but knowing that it's real.
When he'd called Dean to tell him that he was Lucifer's vessel, he never thought it would end like this. He'd expected that Dean would have some solution, some way to make it all better, just like he always did. Or at least that Dean would have some sympathy. Though, he supposes, monsters like him don't deserve sympathy. Dean's voicemail to him flickers teasingly through his mind, coyly traipsing its way through his thoughts. He shakes his head to rid himself of it, and it disappears from thought. For now.
He finally lowers both his hands to his lap, the phone clenched between numb fingers as he stares blankly at nothing. Silent tears begin to form, and he allows a few to drop before he masters himself, his face going blank. Monsters don't get to cry. He pulls his hands from his lap and settles them on the wheel. With a deep breath, he's off, headed for the closest motel, his mind as blank as his expression, his mind as empty as he can manage.
He somehow manages to get to a motel and get a room without killing himself, or anyone else, and he settles himself on the bed. He glances up from his hands (when had he looked down?) and notices that he'd automatically gotten two beds. He stares blankly at the empty one for a moment, thinking of Dean (You're a monster, Sam), before he shakes his head and exhales harshly and heads for the bathroom.
One scalding shower later, he feels more like himself (you're not you anymore), and he leaves the steamy bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He collapses on his bed (the one closest to the window, because the one closest to the door was Dean's) and curls in upon himself, staring blankly at the frayed motel room sheets as he ponders his next move.
Dean is no longer an option. Apparently, being the Devil's vessel was the step too far, the one thing that Dean truly couldn't forgive (there's no going back), though Sam truly can't blame him for that. Dean was the righteous one, the pure one, the good one, and he didn't deserve to have to clean up the messes of his fucked up, demon blood-junkie little brother (I'm done trying to save you). This was something he'd have to deal with on his own.
You're my vessel, Sam, Lucifer had said, my true vessel. Sam shudders, loathing himself more than he ever has before. I won't be your vessel! He wants to shout. I'll NEVER be your vessel! But he knows deep down inside that, considering how weak he is, he'll eventually say yes. He curls his hand into a loose fist, idly bunching up the sheets between his fingers. How can he keep himself from saying yes?
He sits up so suddenly that his head spins (he wonders when he'd eaten last, but he shoves that aside) when he's hit with an idea. Lucifer had said that he couldn't kill himself (I'll just bring you back), but who's to say that he's telling the truth? If the Devil is known for one thing, it's lying, right? And if this works, when this works, Dean will have one less thing to worry about, and Sam will have begun his path to redemption.
Sam jerks his head to look at the bed next to him, to tell Dean about his marvelous plan, but the neat empty bed reminds him that his brother has left him (You're a monster, Sam). Somehow, in the space of a few seconds, he'd forgotten. He heaves a shuddering sigh, his arms wrapped tightly around himself as he rocks side to side for a moment, before lurching off the bed to grab his knife (Dean would be upset with him, forgetting to put a weapon under his pillow...but Dean was already upset with him, wasn't he?).
He flops gracelessly back onto the bed, ready to do the deed there, but then decides to do it in the bathtub, so that there's less cleanup for the staff later. Picking himself up, he makes his way to the bathroom, and sits in the tub. He flirts with the idea of sending Dean an apology letter, but decides that it's easier for all involved if he doesn't. Before he can change his mind, or talk himself out of it, he's already slit his wrists, two strong vertical slices, and is watching the blood slip down his hands into the tub. He vaguely hopes that the poor staff member who finds his body won't be too traumatized, before everything fades to black.
When he awakens, he knows that he's failed. His wrists are unscarred, though the bloody tub leaves obvious evidence of his unfinished deed. He pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them. He spends the rest of the night in the tub, staring blankly at the white tile in front of him.
**Line**
He throws himself back into hunting, deciding that if he has to be alive, he's going to put his immortality to good use. Lucifer visits him every night in his dreams, taking the forms of his deceased loved ones as he asks Sam to say that one, simple word. Every time, Sam says no.
He's lost count of just how many times he's died at this point. Being 'immortal', he's a lot less careful with his life, and quite honestly he dies pretty often now, though always after the innocents are out of the line of fire. The demons have stopped hounding him, likely on orders from their master, and so he continues to just hunt anything that he can possibly find. A werewolf in Minnesota one day, a wendigo in Maine the next, a whole coven of vampires in Maryland a few days later, never staying in one spot for more than a week.
Lucifer is being surprisingly patient with him, but that does nothing more than feed his hatred for the Devil. He has decided that, despite his weakness, he will never say yes. Not for himself, but for everyone who died for him to live. For Dean.
**Line**
He does his best to avoid other hunters, but it's inevitable that he would meet some eventually. Apparently, someone let the cat out of the bag on who started the apocalypse, which he finds out when he's captured by angry hunters. They torture him, but the amount of loathing they hold for him is nothing close to how much loathing he holds for himself.
'Do you want me to end this for you, Sam? I can take away the pain. I can make it all disappear. All you have to do is say one little word.' the fallen angel coaxes gently as Sam pants harshly for breath.
'No.' He replies, yelping as they break another bone. It's okay, he thinks, I still have 167 that they haven't broken. I'm fine.
He dies again that day, drowning in his own blood as his lungs fill with the life-giving substance, but the Devil brings him back, as he always does.
**Line**
Dean is dead. Bobby is dead. Cas is dead. Ellen is dead. Jo is dead. Dead dead dead, everyone is dead. Lucifer cackles in his dreams, gleefully telling Sam of their demise. Sam stares blankly at the exuberant fallen angel until he stops laughing, smiling softly at Sam. 'They were in the way of us, Sam.' He admonishes, his voice gently scolding. 'But now that they're gone, and there's no reason for you not to become my vessel. All your reasons are dead.'
Sam's eyes are blank as Lucifer steps closer, his arms spread wide in a welcoming gesture. 'Tell me where you are, Sam.' He murmurs, 'I'll take the pain away.'
Sam's eyes refocus. He smiles placidly at the Devil. He simply says, 'No.'
Lucifer's face closes off, and suddenly Sam is alone in his dream. He stares down at his hands, and clutches the material of his pants between his fingers. He allows a few tears to drip onto his shaking fists, but they stop almost immediately. Monsters don't get to cry.
**Line**
The horsemen still ride. Lucifer still roams free. Sam has no angle, and he knows it. He keeps going, but it becomes less about 'saving people', and more about 'hunting things', and there is no 'family'. He hunts because it's all that he knows how to do.
Lucifer seems to be going for a slow burn on this one, waiting until Sam becomes his vessel to really get involved in the apocalypse. And really, he has all the time in the world.
It takes Sam a few years before he realizes that he's not aging.
**Line**
It's been about 20 years since the death of his family. The Croatoan virus has spread. There's patches of humanity left, but they're far and few between. Sam continues to hunt, to try and keep the few humans left safe, and to try and rid the world of this disease.
Lucifer still visits him every night in his dreams, asking him to say yes. Sam thinks of Dean, of Bobby, of Cas, of his mother, of Ellen and Jo, of all the people who sacrificed so much for him to live, and he says "No".
**Line**
It's been about 40 years since the death of his family. Lucifer is beginning to lose his patience, never having believed that Sam would hold out for this long. The angels have all but abandoned this world, moving on to new horizons and leaving the humans to their fates. Zachariah and Raphael were killed by Lucifer years back to try and get on Sam's good side. Michael never showed. God is still awol.
Lucifer has begun using more painful methods to persuade Sam to be his vessel. Sam thinks of Dean and Bobby and Cas and his mother and Ellen and Jo, and he says, "No".
(Chuck shakes his head, and wonders, when did the story go so wrong?)
**Line**
It's been about 140 years since the death of his family. There's only little pockets of regular, live humans left, living deep underground to try and avoid above-ground dangers. It's not working very well. The greater nations used their nukes a while back to try and get rid of the Croatoan infected people, and it worked relatively well. However, there's radiation poisoning everywhere, including underground, animals aren't safe to eat, plants can't be grown.
Sam still lives above ground, Lucifer sustaining him and keeping him from starving to death or dying from radiation poisoning. The fallen angel wouldn't normally have this level of power, and Sam suspects that he's been stealing the power of the absent heavenly host. Monsters were affected by the radiation too, turning more deadly than before. Sam continues to kill them, because that's all he really knows how to do.
Lucifer has moved past painful into the realm of agonizing. He asks Sam to say yes, to be his vessel. Sam thinks of Dean and Bobby and Cas and his mother and again says, "No".
**Line**
Lucifer is angry. He has run out of patience, having believed that Sam would've given in by now, and the fact that he hasn't draws the Devil's ire. The light-bringer takes a century off from his extermination of humanity to torture his wayward vessel into compliance. It takes little to no effort to find his vessel, and he take great pleasure in finally being able to attack a physical body, rather than the metaphysical one available to him in dreams.
"Say yes." He hisses angrily.
His vessel, crucified to a wall, lets out tittering, not entirely sane laughter, red, red blood dripping from between white, white teeth and pale, pale lips. He thinks of Dean, and Bobby, and Cas, and smiles softly and says "No."
The Devil snarls, and Sam screams.
**Line**
The years pass, slowly and yet in the blink of an eye. The horsemen roam, and Lucifer is still free, but they allow humanity to flourish with little input, other than a bit of genocide here and there. The earth seemingly recycles itself, settling into something new. Having lived in the radiation saturated environment, the few humans that survived evolved over generations to tolerate the high levels of radiation; same with the animals. They begin to emerge from their underground camps, and build rudimentary homes out in the sunlight.
Sam hunts, now with a true reason to do so. Lucifer commands that he say yes, but still Sam thinks of Dean and Bobby and blue-blue eyes and says, "No".
**Line**
Time moves on. Sam notes that everything seems to be cycling back through history as it once was, and finds it interesting, in a boring sort of way. War is present during the Witch trials, when Sam is drowned and burned alive at the stake. Pestilence goes all out on the plague during the Dark Ages, and Sam dies several times from the same disease before his body became immune to it. Death is with him almost every time he dies now, giving him a strange look as his body reforms to its original, pristine condition. Famine makes him crave company, strangely enough, and is the only horseman that truly disturbs him anymore.
Some technologies are more advanced than he's used to, and some are less so. Humans lost a lot of history during the first apocalypse, so some less vital things had to be reinvented. He likens it to the burning of the Great Library of Alexandria.
Lucifer asks Sam to be his vessel less often now, rarely visiting him, though each meeting is full of suffering for the immortal man. Sam thinks of his brother, of his brown hair, and warm green eyes, and of a gruff voice full of hidden emotions, and of blue-blue eyes...or were they gray? and says, "No". Lucifer broods, and bides his time.
**Line**
It's been thousands of years, so many that Sam has lost count. The world seems to have gone full circle, back to the point that it was at when he was still truly living, not just surviving. They have cities full of skyscrapers, flying cars, teleportation devices. Humans are back at the top of the non-supernatural food chain. And still Sam hunts.
Lucifer demands that he yes. At this point, Sam has practically forgotten why he's saying no, but whenever he thinks to say yes, he thinks of brown hair and kind green eyes, and he says, "No".
**Line**
Lucifer's going to gather the horsemen again, start the apocalypse anew, and he orders Sam to be his vessel. Sam thinks of warm green eyes, and smiles gently with bloodied teeth as he hangs by his aching wrists, and coughs, "No".
**Line**
Sam sits, surrounded by the latest ruins of humanity. The apocalypse was carried off without a hitch, despite his refusal to be a vessel. Everyone is dead this time, humanity is truly wiped out, and he doesn't know how long it will take for them to exist again. Or if he'll even be alive when it happens. He truly hopes not.
There is a familiar flutter of wings beside him, but he doesn't turn. Lucifer requests that he be his vessel, all polite smiles with sharp, sharp teeth. He lets out a quiet sigh. His mind is blank. Why does he refuse? He opens tired hazel eyes to stare into the dying sun, a void of silence between himself and the fallen archangel. Lucifer leans forward in anticipation, towering over the seated immortal.
Sam sighs again, and lets out a gentle laugh before turning to make eye contact with the Devil hovering over his shoulder. He gifts his tormentor with a tender smile before murmuring, "Never."
Lucifer shrieks in rage.
And the cycle repeats.
A/N: Yeah, I don't know. That was hella angsty though, yeah? You can assume that everyone died during an event similar to the one in 5.10, the one where Lucifer's raising Death? Yeah, they all just died there, or something similar.
Sorry to those waiting for an update on an actual fic, I've hit a bit of a wall with everything...well, that's a lie. I've hit a bit of a wall with everything I have posted. All my other works in progress are, well...progressing XD. Sorry for my temperamental muse. Maybe this oneshot will get the creative juices flowing again. *shrugs* in any case, please review if you've got the time. I've never written anything like this before, tell me what you think!