Brotherly Love

Dean pulled experimentally at the chains that held his hands high above his head. Though he was careful, he succeeded only in cutting the skin on his wrists anew. Fresh blood tickled as it trickled down his bare arms and dripped onto his shoulders and torso. Fantastic. Just fantastic. He was going to die looking like some sort of sacrificial offering to a gay King Kong. Lucifer would be returning any second, and Dean had no more idea how he was going to get away now than he'd had an hour ago. He just prayed that Sam was still safe. Then he prayed harder still that Sam wouldn't do anything stupid trying to rescue him. He'd been Lucifer's prisoner for hours, maybe days. He really couldn't tell anymore. Worse, he wasn't even certain that he was still on Earth. The strange half-light, the way time seemed almost meaningless here, the very deadness of the air. He couldn't prove it, but in his heart he knew. He was back in the Pit. It might be the mild, PG-13 version of Hell, but it was still Hell, and no angel army was coming for him this time. His brother and Castiel would just have to find some way to stop the Apocalypse without him. God help them. A door opened behind him, and Dean twisted around trying to get a look at who'd entered. Demons had been in and out. Some to gloat, some just to stare, though none had touched him. He was Lucifer's prize capture, and he doubted the big guy would be real thrilled if anyone else played his new toy. He couldn't turn quite far enough to make out his new visitor, but he didn't have to wait to find out either. "Sorry about the interruption, Dean." Lucifer said with Nick's stolen voice. "Duty called and all that." He was smiling as he walked around to face Dean. It wasn't a malicious or malign smile, just the sort of half-grin you'd expect to see on any over-worked buddy's face, and it made Dean shudder.

"Hey, no problem," Dean replied, trying and failing to achieve a nonchalant tone. "In fact, if you want me to leave and come back later, I'd be good with that."

"I'm sure you would, but that won't be necessary." Reaching up, the fallen angel plinked one of the taut chains with his fingers. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes. We were discussing brotherhood, that all important bond."

"What's to discuss? Your brothers are dicks."

"Except for Castiel?" Lucifer clarified.

"Yeah, except for Cas," Dean agreed.

"True, but as it happens, I'm not very interested in discussing my brothers at the moment. I'm more interested in discussing yours."

Dean's lips curled back from his teeth, fury boiling out of him like steam, painting his vision a bloody red. "You're not getting Sammy! I don't give a fuck what you do to me. I won't help you get him. I won't!"

"Shhh," Lucifer whispered, brushing Nick's fingertips gently over Dean's jaw. "Calm down, Dean. It's okay. I know you won't help me get Sam. I know it. You love him, and you'd do anything to protect him. I know that." His fingers trailed down to Dean's throat, lightly tracing the outline of his neck muscles where they bulged against the skin with tension. "Shh." The pressure that Lucifer exerted was more than verbal, more than physical. It was mental and emotional, and Dean felt his muscles beginning to relax, the frantic fury draining from his body as the angel ran gentle hands over him. He trembled. Fear for himself, fear for Sam, it all dimmed into a distant ache Lucifer focused the whole of his attention on him. When Dean's heartbeat had returned to its normal rhythm, the angel went on. "The truth is, I envy Sam. He doesn't know how lucky he is to have that kind of unconditional love. The things he's done to you, the ways he's betrayed you, and yet you always forgive him, always support him. It's inspiring. Frankly, I'm surprised that the two of you aren't… closer."

"What the fuck are you talking about? Closer how?" Dean was baffled. How much closer could you get to someone than dying for them, than going to Hell for them? By those standards, he and Sam were pretty damn close already, thank you very much.

"Come, Dean, you know what I mean. You love him with your whole heart. Why stop there?"

"Keep your filthy thoughts off my brother, you sick son of a bitch!" Dean growled, lunging instinctively for his enemy as his rage resurfaced. The chains brought him up short, and he wound up swinging from his manacled wrists, his feet barely scraping the ground as he twisted in the air.

Lucifer laughed and stopped his swinging with an arm around his waist. "Relax. Sam holds no interest for me in that way, though I can't help but be surprised that you've honestly never contemplated exploring the pleasures of flesh with him. Humans can be so narrow minded."

"You're sick," Dean spat, all the fear, hatred and disgust the monster engendered leaving him feeling sick at his stomach. Somehow, he didn't think that Lucifer would appreciate a lapful of vomit. Maybe he should give that a shot.

"Don't be so quick to judge, my little champion. Angels are not like humans. It was out of love itself that Our Father created us, and we are creatures of pure love."

"Don't even try to tell me that Zachariah is a creature of love!" Dean retorted, wholly distracted from his churning nausea by the very idea. It was ludicrous.

Lucifer grimaced in distaste. "Well, I'll admit, some of us have strayed a little from the path. But by and large, we are beings of love. We do not hem it about with artificial limits. We do not wind it round with pointless constraints. Love is love, whatever form it may take, and we feel it deeply." His hand clamped into Dean's hair, tightening painfully as he yanked Dean's head back until it felt as if his neck would snap. This, now this was the kind of treatment that Dean had expected, and he trembled, afraid of what would come next. To his surprise, Lucifer let him go, took a step back and began to pace before him, still speaking, practically ranting now. "We feel it far more deeply than you pathetic, hairless apes could ever possibly understand. Our love for one another is beyond your scope to comprehend, beyond your ability to feel. I love Michael, despite his betrayal of me, despite the fact that he supported Our Father and cast me out." Suddenly, Lucifer was directly in front of him again, clamping his head between his cold, cold hands. "I still love Michael, and I miss him. The place where his love, where God's love used to be inside me is a great, gaping hole, more vast than all the voids of Hell. Can you imagine how that must feel? Can you understand why I would do anything, anything at all to fill that void?"

Despite himself, Dean could relate to what Lucifer was saying, could understand all too well what he was feeling. That emptiness inside, that feeling of being totally alone, it was the worst torture he could imagine, and he'd been there. God knew he'd been there. Only Sam, undependable and flighty as he could be, held him back from the brink of the precipice. "Yes," Dean whispered. "I do understand."

Lucifer nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I'll tell you a secret," he said, leaning close and whispering into Dean's ear. "Of all the Horsemen, I never once spoke directly with Famine. He's the only one I shunned, the only one of my generals, demons and angels alike, that I never personally graced with my presence. I couldn't risk it, couldn't risk letting him see the emptiness inside me as he saw it in you. That would have given him too much power over me. You understand that, don't you?"

Dean nodded, sickened by the feel of the rotting skin of Nick's hands rubbing against his cheeks. He gulped, unable to look away as Lucifer leaned still closer until the angel's lips were almost touching his own. "I've tried to fill that emptiness, Dean. I have tried. Blood. Pain. Anger. I've tortured a million souls, swum in their blood, made their pain and fear and fury my own, but that hole just gets deeper and deeper. Nothing can fill it. Nothing… until now."

"Why are you telling me this?" Dean demanded, his voice hoarse with strain and fear. Fear not just for himself, but for the world subject to this tormented creature's tantrums.
"Because I want you to understand what's about to happen between us, Dean," Lucifer murmured as his hands slid slowly down Dean's torso to rest on his naked hips. "I want you to understand that this isn't about you. You don't matter here."

"If I don't matter then why the fuck are you boring me to death with your little monologue?" Dean snapped.

Lucifer's hands shifted rapidly from Dean's hips to his throat, where they tightened until he could no longer breathe freely, could barely think. "Watch your mouth, human," Lucifer snarled. "Remember who I am. You think your time with Alastair was Hell? I trained him, boy. I can make you feel pain so profound that your nerves would never stop burning with it, not even in death."

Dean shook, terrified and losing control over his brave facade. God, just let this end…

"Luckily for you, or unluckily depending on your point of view, I have other plans. I miss my brother, Dean. I miss him with my whole being, but he won't come near me. Not even in our dreams. He has utterly abandoned me. But now… now I hold a piece of him in my very hand."

"What?" Dean gasped.

"You're Michael's vessel, Dean. You're his true vessel." Dean swallowed painfully, his eyes crossing as Lucifer leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips before resting his forehead against Dean's own. "Whether you've said yes or not is immaterial. You are still his, still a part of him, the only part I've been able to touch in an age. I miss my brother, Dean. I long to be with him one last time, but if I can't have him in my arms, I'll have you."

Adrenalin surged through Dean as the meaning Lucifer's statement sank in. No. "NO! You're freakin' insane!"

"Perhaps," the angel whispered before taking Dean's bottom lip between his teeth. His hands were still on Dean's throat. His thumbs caressed the underside of Dean's jaw.

Dean jerked away, utterly disgusted and desperate to stop this madness. "Michael fried Anna alive for just thinking about messing with his bloodline! Don't you think this will piss him off even more?" he demanded frantically.

"I'm counting on it." Lucifer smiled, no longer the buddy-grin, but an angry malicious sneer. "You belong to him, but for this moment in time, you are mine. And I will use you in ways that no human has ever been used. If Michael doesn't like it, he'll have to come stop me himself."

Dean trembled as the chains suddenly let go and Lucifer drew him close, his teeth closing on the pulse in Dean's throat. Apparently, he was all talked out.

The End

(Unless there is a LOT of begging for more, this is it folks.)