Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.

Author's Note: This is kind of random and probably way too rushed, but I wanted to get this done tonight.

Summary: Tag to 5x03. Picks up directly where the episode left off, when Lucifer disappeared. Sam wants his big brother to tell him everything is going to be okay.

Twilight: The Devil's Favorite Story

Chapter 1

His first reaction was to call Dean. Dean had to know after all, seeing as he was Sam's brother and he had a right to know.

His second reaction was to throw up. No scratch that. His third reaction was to throw up after he picked himself off the floor from passing out.

Lucifer wanted him to be his vessel?

The thought alone was enough to send him back into a state of brief unconsciousness and to throw up again upon awakening. After all, what the hell was one supposed to do when the Lucifer told you that you were going to become his vessel whether you liked it or not—that you were chosen for it? Smile politely and say, okay, let's go? Laugh in his face? Cry? He had definitely cried. A lot more than he was willing to admit; if Dean had been there, he would have teased him for being such a girl. But Dean wasn't there because he, Sam Winchester, had the brilliant idea to split ways—that it would be safer for them to do so.

Ha. The thought made him snort with laughter. Dean might have been safer away from Sam—there was no evidence to point to the contrary at the moment—but Sam sure as hell (which was the dumbest phrase, now that there was Hell on Earth…) safer when he was near Dean. The events at the bar had shown him that, as had his recent dream.

Sam resisted the urge to pick up the most breakable items in the hotel room and fling them all across the room and scream why me, though it was a very close thing. In fact, if the television set hadn't been bolted down to the stand it was on, it would have been gone.

Sam desperately wanted to call Dean, to hear his brother say destiny's a bunch of crap—you're who you want to be, Sammy but somehow, he knew that Dean would probably just become grave and not say anything at all. Worse, he might even agree with the fact that resisting was hopeless.

He sat down on the bed, ready to dial Dean's number when the cell phone rang. The sound was unexpected in the deafening silence of the hotel room that it made Sam jump.

Sam glanced at the number, hoping it was Dean, hoping that it wasn't Dean. It was.

Speak of the devil, Sam thought wryly. Then he winced. He was supposedly the Devil now.

"Dean?"

Sam hated how pathetic his voice was, how in just one word, he managed to sound sad, depressed, hurt, shocked, angry, and so much like he was three-years-old again and just wanted to be with his big brother. It was how he was feeling at the moment, but Sam didn't want to admit it.

"Sam," Dean said quietly.

In that one word, Sam knew that Dean knew about Lucifer. Dean had on his best we're-so-screwed voice, one he hadn't heard very often up until this year. Now, it seemed like that was the only tone of voice Dean had.

"I hear that there's a coven of vampires in Washington," Sam said his voice now devoid of all emotion. He didn't want to say the words aloud. "They sparkle, apparently."

"You been reading chick flicks again, Sammy?" Dean asked. There was a hint of amusement in his voice. "Damn, I always knew that Twilight was the Devil's favorite story."

"Don't," Sam said forcefully, his voice cracking ever so slightly. "Don't joke about this."

"Sammy," Dean said sighing heavily on the other end. He sounded tired and anxious, like he had every time Sam had a vision, every time that Sam was hurt, every time that Sam had lied to him—every time that he was Sam's big brother.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said unable to keep his voice from breaking.

"It's not your fault, Sam," Dean said a hard edge entering his voice.

"I want to come back to the hunt," Sam said quietly. He knew that it was the only way that he would be able to save himself, that it had been the only way to save himself in the past.

"You can't," Dean said after a long pause.

Sam nearly dropped the phone in shock. He knew that Dean was probably happier by himself for obvious reasons, but it still hurt to hear that he didn't want Sam by his side anymore.

"Why?" Sam asked. He had to hear it from Dean.

"I—it has nothing to do with you or what you've done," Dean said.

Lies, Sam thought. It has everything to do with that.

"Then what is it about?" Sam wanted to know.

Dean let out a sad laugh.

"I'm not saying this to hurt you, Sam, or maybe I am. I don't know. But I do know that this past week has been one of the best I've had in years. And for a week, I didn't have the weight of the world on my shoulders. I had fun, Sam," Dean said. "And I realized what you realized a long time ago. That there is more to life than loyalty and family."

Sam couldn't deny Dean any of those things. He was right, Sam noted. It had been years since they had done anything fun together. And Dean deserved the chance to be his own person, free of little brothers and apocalypses and little brothers who caused said apocalypses and drank demon blood and were Lucifer's vessel.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said again, but this time it was for different reasons.

"I am too," Dean said quietly. "I am too. But listen—this thing with Lucifer, don't let it get to you. You can resist. You have to, cause that is one mess I ain't cleaning up for you."

Despite himself, Sam let out a sad laugh.

"I'll do my best," he promised because he knew that Dean needed him to.

"Then there's no way in Heaven or Hell that Lucifer is ever going to win this thing," Dean said. Sam could hear the pride in his brother's voice. "Cause when Sam Winchester puts his mind to something, there is no one in the universe that can stop him or change his mind."

Sam knew Dean well enough to hear that slightly bitter note that crept into his brother's voice and knew that despite Dean's outwardly friendly demeanor, Dean was still angry as Hell. And Sam couldn't blame him.

"I'm going to go back to hunting, Dean," Sam informed the older Winchester. "It's the only way I'm going to be able to keep away from Lucifer."

"Do what you've got to do, Sammy," Dean said. "I hear there's a coven of vampires in Washington. The sparkly kind."

"Ha, ha," Sam said dryly, rolling his eyes. "Take care of yourself, Dean."

"Yeah, you too, Sammy," Dean said quietly.

They both held on to the connection for longer than was necessary, just listening to each other breathe.

Dean let out a low chuckle after a while.

"Don't be a stranger, all right? Call if you ever need anything," he said.

"Yeah, you too, Dean," Sam replied.

"Good-bye, Sam," Dean murmured.

"Bye, Dean," Sam replied just as quietly.

They both disconnected their phones at the same time. Sam sat there in the dark silence of his hotel room, staring at his cell phone for the longest time, knowing that wherever Dean was, he was doing the exact same thing.