The lightbringer is curious. He comes to divide and conquer. He sees green eyes, bones and skin where Castiel sees everything. "Let's have dinner," he said and ate nothing but Dean. Dean, who went trustful; whose longing was not only palpable but also malleable. Lucifer makes him into his clay and Dean sinks down between his fingers, like sand. His breath is labored and hitched, he spits single syllables, isn't a man of many words. He comes down on his knees and swallows, eyes shining and lost, lashes sinfully long, throat tender and warm – it all says totus tuus and his devotion is almost holy.
In a puddle of Lucifer's grace, Castiel cries.
Look how much he loves you – Satan chirps. – Doesn't know he lost you – he says. –The one only thing he loved and woke up for each day that wasn't his brother. You gave and you have taken away. Aren't you a shitty god to your little mud monkey.
He blesses the sack of flesh with his forked tongue; swallows him greedily like he's something, like he's special. Like Dean's his.
Both Satan and Castiel listen to Dean breathe. Not for long – Lucifer promises. His hands dance on Dean's throat and Castiel shivers. Anytime I want – Satan smiles. He bites and draws blood, fucks harder, pacifying Dean's welcoming insides.
I love you falls somewhere into the ether when they're done. It hangs heavy in the air. It reeks of fear.
At least say it back – Castiel begs.
But Dean's words meet silence. Lucifer tilts Castiel's head and stares patronizingly. It's a torture. Something in Dean's eyes wilts and Castiel watches something in him die, just like that.
Lucifer doesn't say it back.
This is his last memory of you – he tells Castiel.
The snap of his neck is the loudest thing Castiel's ever heard.