Title: Legos and Army Men
Author: Obi the Kid
Rating: PG
Summary: This is a dialogue only story that takes place somewhere around 7.2. Sam struggles with Lucifer in his head as Dean tries to bring him back.
Note: Writing this before the rest of Sam's Lucifer/hallucinations play out, obviously I have no idea how those things will resolve, but it felt like a good place to stick an early season story idea for me. Not sure if this works well or not as I tried to keep the boy's in character as best I could, but you know when you get those plot bunnies chomping at the bit, sometimes you just gotta write them!
BOLD ITALICS are Lucifer's voice. Had trouble with the formatting, hopefully this posts okay.
"Dean, what are you doing?"
"I - am watching my ginormous sized little brother sleep and I am holding his hand as he does it. And yes, this does qualify as a chick-flick moment, so spare me the ridicule."
"Okay, I get that. You're watching him sleep. Why?"
"Because he needs to sleep, Bobby and he can't do it because Lucifer's inside his mellon telling him lies and making him nuts and pretending he's me. Sam's exhausted and it's only making things worse than they already are."
"You ain't been able to help him much when he's awake, how you think you can help when he's out?"
"Lucifer pushes him one way and I pull him the other and I wake him up when he starts getting lost in there. When Sam starts pulling his hand away from mine, he's gotta be running from something, right? So, I'm gonna sit here and each time Sam tries to run from what's not real, I'm gonna try and be what is real."
"There's a chance he's too far gone for that, you saw him earlier today."
"No. If he can have conscious moments of knowing who the hell I am, I mean the real me, not the Lucified-version of me, then there's a sane piece of brother still in there that Lucifer hasn't grabbed yet. There's gotta be. You know why? Because that bitch ain't takin' my brother again, Bobby."
"Okay then. You need anything?"
"No. Thanks. I'm good for now."
"Yell if ya do."
Saaaam.
Why fight me, Sam? You think your brother's still there trying to help you?
Hmmm. Maybe he's dead. Maybe he's me. Maybe I'm him. So many possibilities.
Or, better yet, could be he's back in Hell. We've got vacancies for your holiday travels, you know. Winchester special rates.
What I can tell you for certain is that that thing you keep wanting to talk to, the thing you think is your brother out there in your little dream world? Nah. It's me. As Dean. Just little old me. After all, I've got to find a sense of humor in something, don't I? And you, you are just the world's most perfect toy, aren't you? Those puppy dog eyes of yours, so innocent and safe…oh, but maybe not so much anymore.
Oh, Sam, come on. Don't start that. Calling out to your brother like that, thinking he can drag you out of what you think isn't real.
This is real Sam. I am real.
Sam…
"Sam! Don't listen to him, Sammy. I know he's there right now. Whatever crap he's trying to fill your head with, it's not true. You hear me? That's not your reality, Sam. This is. I am. You're at Bobby's house, on his couch. Smells like Old Spice and whiskey, right? No, Sam. Don't pull your hand away. Your reality is with me, your brother. Your real brother. Not the cheap carbon double that Lucifer's trying to sell you. He's full of lies, Sam. Nothin' but lies, man, you know that. If he looks like me, don't trust him. Don't listen to that version of me inside your head. Listen to this me, here. My voice. My hand. It's safe here, Sammy."
That voice. It's so familiar and comforting, Sam, isn't it? Or should I call you Sammy? You miss your brother. More than anything, you'd kill to be back with him. But he's not your brother, Sam. Never has been.
Now, now, don't be confused. You do have – well, you did have a brother. Dean's long gone, Sam. He could be dead like I said before, or could be he just walked away from you. Maybe he finally discovered the real you inside that malleable exterior of yours. That darkness you play with, that comes popping out every so often. I'm thinking that Dean got tired of it and moved on with his life. Away from you. Away from everything that you are and everything that you ever were. Disowned by your own brother. Yes. I like that.
Which is worse, Sam? Dean back in Hell or Dean leaving you completely and utterly alone for the rest of your life?
Let go of the hand that you think is his. He's not there to hold you up anymore, Sam.
Let it go.
"Sam, don't you dare pull away. Come on! You gotta stay with me, brother. Remember the talk we had about hallucinations? Remember me telling you I'd kick your ass if you gave up on reality? I mean it, man. I will. Moose or not, you're still my little brother. I can take you. So, if you don't want a good old fashioned ass kickin', then you get yours away from Lucifer and stop listening to him. The lies are his, not mine, Sam. I'm not dead. I'm not in Hell. I'm right here next to you. I know he's in there right now, wrapping you in the biggest fattest pack of lies he can pile up. There's no truth in what he's telling you, Sam. He'll only hurt you. All he's ever done is hurt you."
Dean, Dean, Dean. Don't you wish that was him, Sam? Don't you need that to be him? Don't you wish your big brother was really here holding your hand and telling you everything will be just fine and dandy?
I'm part of you now. There's no lie in that.
You know the truth, Sam. You've seen it. I am the truth. I am reality.
"Okay, Sam. Enough of this sleeping - or attempted sleeping crap. Wake up! No, don't let go of my hand! Don't let him tell you this isn't me. This is me, Sam. I promise you. I swear on my baby's life, man. But I suppose he's got an Impala too, huh? Adding her to the game so you can't be sure of anything. But this is where you got him, Sam. He doesn't know the Impala like we do. It's our home. You and I, we don't have much of anything, but the one thing we have is that damn car. All the time we spent in that thing as kids. It was our home and our babysitter all wrapped in painted black metal. Remember carving our initials in the dash? Feeding the army guy to the ash tray? Shoving those Legos into the vents? Dad never forgave us for that one. I can still hear the lecture he gave us afterwards and then you and me, Sam, laughing about it like it was the funniest thing in the world. They still rattle too, don't they? Lucifer can't tell you the truth about those things because they don't mean anything to him. To him, they're just words. But for us, man – for you and me? It's everything. So, you don't listen to him, Sammy. Hear me? He doesn't know shit about you and me. He doesn't know a damn thing about what we have."
Convincing, isn't he, Sam? Even got the whole misty-eyed thing going quite well. Always the emotional mess when it comes to you. Too bad you know the truth about your reality.
That dream world out there with what appears to be your brother? Just a dream. It's only want you think you want.
I know better.
Your imagined brother…If only he was real…
Oh, now Sam, don't leave. Not yet. I'm not finished playing yet.
Fine. Go along. Follow the lie that you believe to be Dean. Don't you worry though. More games to come. Enjoy your non reality for a bit longer.
See you soon, Sam.
"Hey, Sammy."
"Dean?"
"Yeah. It's me. Really me. Don't carp on whatever he stuck in your head. This is me, man. I'm flesh and blood and…I'm here."
"My hand hurts."
"Because you're squeezing mine like a friggin' vise grip."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Don't let go. Just…hang onto reality for a few minutes first, okay?"
"He says you're not real. That maybe you're dead or in Hell. That maybe you just left."
"Where the hell would I go, man?"
"Away from me."
"Yeah, like you're getting rid of me that easy."
"You're not my brother. You're not Dean."
"I am, Sam. You know I am. Deep down, you know it. Why else would I be sitting here holding your damn hand like a girl? I don't hand hold, Sam, in case you forgot."
"Chick-flick?"
"You know it, brother. I'll let you have this one though."
"It's not so bad."
"I suppose I'll live. There's no witnesses around anyway. Hey, do you see him right now?"
"No. Just you."
"And you know I'm real, right?"
"I don't…I think so. I…I remember Legos and army men."
"I may have been babbling about those things when I was trying to wake you up."
"Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"He'll come back."
"I know. We'll figure this out, Sam. We will. But until we find a permanent solution, you gotta remember how to come back to me, okay? And that I'm the real deal, not some figment of his lies."
"Okay."
"Better yet, just remember Legos and army men. That's the doorway to your reality."
"And it means I'm okay. You're here. Bobby. The Impala."
"That's all we got, Sammy."
"Okay. I'll remember, Dean."
"And if you don't, I'll pull you back."
"I know you will."
"Good, can we end this emotional bowl of crap now, please? I feel like I need a shower. And let go of my hand, I can't feel my damn fingers anymore."
"I think…I think you're my real brother."
"It's what I been tryin' to tell ya, man."
"You're not dead or in Hell. You're here."
"I am. And I ain't goin' nowhere."
"Legos and army men?"
"Hang on to it, Sammy. Just…hang onto it."
The end.