It's been two months since he and Dean had separated. It'd hurt, that his brother was so ready to get rid of him on the first occasion but then, Sam thought to himself, it wasn't as if he couldn't understand where his brother was coming from.

No, in fact, Sam could understand him perfectly. He was well aware of his mistakes and boy had he made a lot of them. He wouldn't be happy with Dean either if, after spending forty years in Hell for his brother he'd come back to find him addicted to demon blood and exorcising with the power of his freaky mind.

Sam had known he should not believe Ruby, that he should've kick her ass straight into Hell and stay low trying to figure out how to get rid of Lilith and, more importantly, to get Dean off the rack.

Well, he tried. Both things. Just, the sheer agony and panic Dean's death caused him, it completely messed him up. It was not an excuse, there was no excuse for what he'd done, but it blinded him and when she'd said she'll help him get Dean out of Hell he was ready to do anything.

He followed her like a drug addict he'd become at the same time trying to justify himself in his own eyes. It made him feel even worse that he had to deal with all this alone, somehow he doubted he could count on Bobby's forgiveness in this one, even if he did save more people with the damned power than he ever could have ever dreamt of. Not to mention Ruby's knife killed the human host as well and he hated doing that. There was always hope that they could pull through the after-effects of possession and go back to their lives.

And then Dean'd come back and he knew he won't like what Sam had become so the younger brother tried to hide it for as long as he could. It turned out to be a bad idea because it made Dean feel even more betrayed and Sam just didn't know what to do anymore. It felt awful to have his brother eyeing him suspiciously all the time and even worse when the angels came into their lives and he was told God himself didn't want him doing what he'd had been.

It was too late though, to just leave it, tell Ruby to go fuck herself. For one – he was already addicted (and he loathed himself for that up to this day) and then he finally had a way to get Lilith down and he would not, could not let go of it. It's been his aim for so long, he'd put so much of himself into accomplishing it he just wasn't capable of dropping it. Besides, she'd saved his life, more times that he cared to count. He was many things but not ungrateful.

And then... Jack Montgomery's case got to him pretty bad. He tried very hard not to think of himself as a monster but damn, he couldn't help the doubts creeping into his mind every time his eyes locked on Dean or Castiel. Would he end up the same? Taken down like a rabid animal?

Then came the Samhain disaster. He'd get killed if he hadn't exorcised the son of a bitch, he lost the knife and had his back against the wall, no flight, just fight. He was scared, he'd promised Dean, and in hindsight, wouldn't it be better if he kept his promise and paid the price? But right then he just couldn't do it, not after Dean'd died for him to live.

Dean's memories from Hell only served to make him even more guilty and miserable but this actually wasn't about him but his brother. So he'd made Dean talk and forced himself to listen to everything because that was the way to make Dean feel better and he'd do anything in the accomplish that.

And then – the siren. God but that was something he'll regret up to the day he dies. Which, admittedly, can not be that far off and that knowledge gives him a twisted sense of security.

He doesn't want to recall what they'd been doing under the spell, the mere thought makes him want to stab himself, repeatedly. He could only imagine what Dean had felt like hearing all the crap he didn't mean to say, if Sam himself felt like Dean eviscerated him. He was the one in collusion with demons though, lying and betraying. He deserved what he got. Dean most certainly did not.

He almost regrets that Bobby had shown up just in time to stop that fire axe.

Because if he hadn't then Sam wouldn't have stopped Dean from killing Ruby, they wouldn't have that damned fight and it all could have ended so much better.

Instead Sam had acted like a total freak and after nearly strangling Dean he just couldn't take it anymore. That his brother actually repeated what his Dad had said to him when he'd been going off to Stanford was the last straw. He had to take that bitch down and prove to his brother that he was worth something.

He shouldn't have tried. He was wrong. He had no way to know that Lilith wasn't the breaker of the last seal, she was the seal. After the voicemail Dean left him he knew there was no going back, if his brother saw him he was going to be taken down. Then again he never intended to get out of the convent alive anyway, so he did the only thing he could think of and went in.

And this choice he'll regret till the end of days, while burning in the darkest pits of Hell.

He was shocked and scared to see Dean in the convent. Better to die killing the demon though, than at his brother's hand so when the doors sealed he threw all of himself into it and he won.

And then Lucifer came out of his Cage.

Sam felt so shocked and betrayed he could only hold Ruby down as Dean stabbed her and then cling to his brother in sheer panic as the convent crumbled to the ground.

He wished he could be buried under the ruins. Instead he was pulled out and placed on a plane with a magnificent view to admire his handiwork.

After that Dean just couldn't trust him anymore.

Detoxing was hell. He deserved it though. And then, not able to stand his brother's well deserved ire, he proposed parting ways. Dean agreed readily and with relief.

And now, here he was. Sam Winchester, the walking, talking ironic joke of the universe, the Boy King, the vessel of the Devil himself.

Lucifer told him he couldn't kill himself. He'd had to test it and nothing worked so far.

First of all he wrote a message to Dean and Bobby. Just in case the Devil lied to him and he could die. Then he just grabbed his Taurus, pointed it to his head and taking a deep shuddering breath, pulled the trigger.

Nothing. Sam woke up a couple of hours later, perfectly fine. The only thing that indicated something happened at all was the blood and brain tissue scattered messily on the wall behind him.

He tried again. Took the knife Dean had given him for his 13th birthday and cut twin neat lines from his elbows down to his wrists, deep and painful.

Nothing.

Then came overdosing on sleeping pills and he grew steadily more desperate when that also proved to be futile. After trying and failing with hanging, electrocuting, getting in a car crash, slitting his throat and drowning he finally had to accept that it wasn't going to work.

He threw himself into hunting again. Figured if nothing could kill him then he could help people much more efficiently because while he was still looking for a way to stop Satan from using him as his vessel which he was sure he would consent to, sometime, be it a couple of months or years from now, he still strived to earn forgiveness for his numerous sins.

Logically he knew forgiveness was something he could never get but that didn't mean he would just abandon all the people he unintentionally sentenced to death.

Another couple of weeks went by and he lost his phone after a water nymph drowned him. He died more times that he cared to remember and helped people and it would be perfect, if not for two facts.

Dean was not with him.

Lucifer still walked his dreams.

Sam refused to give his consent. Not then not ever. He would give his best to shorten the list of things his brother could detest him for.

Then, one day, he was burning a wendigo, dousing it with salt and gasoline with one hand, the other pressing down on his abdomen to keep his guts from spilling out of his body (at least till he was finished with the case), when it hit him.

Fire!

Now he had burned once already (there was an explosion, not his favourite way of going down) and normal fire would not stop the fallen archangel.

But what if he used holy fire? It was the only substance that no angel could stand that he knew of.

He came back alive, laying next to the charred remains of the wendigo, and for the first time in nearly two months since he and Dean separated, a genuine, if weak, smile twisted the corners of his lips upwards.

He had a plan.

/txtbreak/

I'm kind of obsessed with the idea of Sam testing out Lucifer's words. As you can probably guess.

Anyway I've been playing with the idea for quite some time and I just had to get it written down. I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading.

Now this doesn't really feel like a full story, does it, so I guess I'll continue it with one more chapter. I hope I'll see you then!

I'm currently trying to correct my style, I don't really like it and anyway English is not my forst language so I'd appreciate it if you dropped me a hint as to what I could fix and perhaps what is good and should stay.

Supernatural does not belong to me. It belongs to Eric Kripke.