Author's Note: This was begging for me to write it, and naturally, I couldn't resist. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine. I'm just another devoted fan.

SPN

It took a moment for Sam to wake up, roused by some subtle change in his room that he might not have noticed without years of training. The lights were dim, and he was lying face down on his comfortable memory-foam mattress. In the bunker. Safe. He strained his ears, listening for a sound—any sound—that might explain his alarm, but all was quiet. Too quiet. The silent stillness was heavy and oppressive.

Frowning, Sam rolled onto his side, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. He sat up and glanced around to find her standing by the door. His mom. Dressed in jeans and a black sweater with her hair cut short and a wedding band dangling from a gold chain around her neck. She was so beautiful, and Sam felt a fresh pang in his heart—a hopeful pang—but also a frightened one. "You came back."

"Ssshhh…" She took a step towards him, tender and graceful, like a dream. "It's late, Sammy. Lie down and go back to sleep."

He simply gazed at her, hungry for her presence, distraught by her absence. The past few days had been a roller coaster, to say the least. First, he lost Dean. He thought… with Billie determined to reap them both, he never expected to see his brother again, even in the afterlife. But Dean came for him, and his mom came for him, and they were together again, and for awhile—no, just for a moment—they were happy. But then she left, and she took his dad's journal, and now, Sam and Dean were on their own, and sometimes… sometimes, Sam wondered if he might still be in Toni's basement, suffering from more drug-induced hallucinations. She said he couldn't survive another round, but maybe she was lying.

"You can't torture someone who has nothing left for you to take away."

Mary must have seen the uncertainty—the despair—on Sam's face, for she sighed and crossed the rest of the way over to his bed, sitting next to him. Her fingers gently brushed a tear from his eye. "It's okay, sweetheart. I won't be gone forever. I just need some time…" She cupped his cheek in the palm of her hand. "I love you."

It occurred to Sam that none of this was real. His mom left. She wouldn't sneak back in for another goodbye, not after slamming the door behind her. He must still be asleep. Dreaming. But that was okay. It was a good dream, and he would take what he could get. "I love you too." He closed his eyes, raising his hand to cover the back of hers. "We need you, mom. You know that, right?"

She didn't answer. Not immediately. They barely knew each other, so it was hard to predict how she would respond to his quiet, desperate plea for acceptance and comfort. She had so much in common with Dean… maybe she wouldn't appreciate his vulnerability.

When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and affectionate, but her words were bone-chilling. "Oh, Sammy… I can't wait to find your mother. I think I'll burn her alive—if I'm feeling generous."

Her hand remained pressed against his cheek, but her touch suddenly grew cold. Sam flinched, opening his eyes to see her cruel smirk. His stomach dropped and he shied away, scrambling off the bed to cower in the corner. "Who are you?" Déjà vu washed over him as she leaned back on his bed, eyes sparkling in amusement.

"I've missed you, Sam," she confessed, as if they were old friends. "I was in denial for so long, back when I was riding my dear baby brother, but I was wrong." She shrugged. "I'm not perfect. I acknowledge that. In hindsight, perhaps it was foolish to challenge Amara in a back-up vessel. I thought, since Castiel's an angel, he'd be strong enough to suit my needs, but clearly, that's not the case. And now, I'm weaker than ever, playing hot potato with a string of worthless humans, when all I want is stability. Clarity. Would you believe that witch caught me off guard? I haven't been myself, Sam, and I've never been so depressed. The truth is, I'm a wreck, and I need you back. You're the only one who can make things right again."

Sam listened to her speech with a growing weight on his shoulders. He shook his head, trying to keep his nausea at bay. This couldn't be happening… He never told Dean, but when he learned of Castiel's possession, when Lucifer tried to kill him, he was actually relieved. He would rather die—he would rather spend eternity in the deep, dark empty—than find himself back as the devil's most wanted. "No."

His mother smiled, unsurprised. "So we're right back where we started. History always repeats itself. You can't reject me forever, Sam."

"Go to hell!"

She climbed to her feet, and Sam shuddered at the predatory glint in her sharp blue eyes. "I know you're stubborn, roomie, but I am too. So I'm gonna give you one chance to play ball. Say yes, and I promise to spare your mom, your brother, and your brother's boyfriend. I'll even bring your dad back for a nice big family reunion. Say no, and they all die, slowly and painfully."

Sam clenched his jaw. "No."

She crossed her arms. "Well, you can't blame a guy for trying. And make no mistake, Sam. I will keep trying. Every night, for as long as it takes. Every time you close your eyes, I'll be waiting to play with you, and the longer you resist, the more you will suffer when I'm finally inside you. Don't test me. I'm losing patience."

Of course, the devil's threats carried far more weight than Toni's. Sam was screwed, but still he braced himself and shook his head. "No."

She clucked her tongue, appraising his body with her penetrating gaze. "You've been healed recently, haven't you? Well, why don't I just undo my brother's handiwork…" She snapped her fingers, and Sam lost his balance as pain flared through his left leg and his right foot. He hit the ground, landing hard on his side, grimacing in agony. Several gashes appeared on his face and chest while a deep cut bloodied his palm.

Lucifer crouched down, leaning over him. "I'll give you a day to reconsider. Trust me, sweetheart. If you refuse, I'll see to it you never have a restful night again." She smiled, running her hand through his hair. "Pleasant dreams."

SPN

Sam woke with a start, gasping for breath. He was back in his bed, covered in blood. His foot was burning, and the pain was paralyzing. "Dean!?"

Tears filled his eyes. The pain he could handle—Toni knew nothing of torture—but the fear, and the helplessness, and the hole in his heart could not be endured. Not alone. "DEAN!"

His brother wasn't coming. After their mom left, he hit the bottle, drinking himself into a stupor.

And Cas wouldn't come either. The angel had yet to return from his hunt for the devil.

Mom… She was gone. He might never see her again.

Right now, only one person had the slightest interest in Sam.

Lucifer.

It was too much.

The next thing he knew, he was curled up with his arms around his legs, and his face buried desperately in his pillow.

SPN

Please Review!