A/N: This story is set in the future proposed by s5e4 The End. This is the first Supernatural fanfic I have written, so please review! :)
Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine. I'm broke, don't sue.
Rating: T. Possibly M. Depends how you feel about violence/torture, because there will be a lot of that ;)
Summary: In the future proposed by The End, why did Sam say yes?
Yes
Sam hung up the phone with far more force than was strictly necessary. He couldn't believe that Dean had done that.
"We should just pick a hemisphere," Sam repeated in disbelief. Dean didn't want to see him again. Sam had never thought that their separation would be permanent. He had thought it would just be a couple months while he got his head together, but apparently, Dean had other ideas. Dean thought that they were weaker together. How could he? They had always accomplished more together (and got people killed together, and started the apocalypse together)a voice in the back of his head hissed. It sounded a lot like Lucifer.
"Fine!" Sam muttered furiously. "I don't need him. I can do this on my own."
Sam checked out of the motel and headed for his car. It was a rental, but it had trunk space for weapons and it was good enough.
He knew exactly how to start.
Two months later.
Sam glared at the pile of papers in front of him. He had been in Arizona for three weeks, tracking demons, and he hated the place. It was really no wonder there were so many demons-the climate probably reminded them of hell.
Sam had been tryingto get information on Lucifer, but the demons he caught were unwilling to talk, and without demon blood he was useless at torture.
Two months of trying, and all he had was the possibility that a demon somewhere in Phoenix knew a demon somewhere else who had allegedly spoken to Lucifer. And the odds were that the demon had been lying anyway, because Sam knew that his torturing skills were mediocre at best.
He sighed and glanced at the clock. Time to go. A demon named Gregory was supposed to be at a bar called Apollo's at six o'clock, and Sam was determined that tonight would be the night he finally got something besides bruised knuckles out of an interrogation.
Sam slammed his fist into Gregory's face again. "Where. Is. Lucifer?" he demanded.
Gregory laughed. "That the best you can do, Sammy?" he asked. "Six months ago you could kill Alistair, and this is all you've got? Honestly, I expected better." He shook his head in disappointment.
Sam ground his teeth in fury. He stormed over to the table he had his instruments laid out on and grabbed the bottle of holy water. He slopped some into a cup and spun around, splashing it across Gregory's bloody face. He was rewarded with an agonized shriek as Gregory's face sizzled.
He strode toward the demon and leaned over him. "Having fun yet, Gregory?" he hissed. "Am I getting up to your usual standards?"
Gregory grinned and spit out a mouthful of bloody holy water. "Not even close," he choked.
"I guess I'll just have to keep trying, then," Sam said with an unnerving smile. He turned back towards the table.
An hour later Sam stood over Gregory's corpse. He clutched Ruby's knife, which he had used to slit Gregory's throat.
Gregory had given him nothing. Maybe he had known something, but he wasn't telling, and Sam was consumed by fury at himself for being so useless. He used to be strong. He used to be-no. He couldn't go there, couldn't think about how easy it had been to make Alistair scream.
As he turned away, Sam's gaze caught on the bloody knife in his hand. Long steel blade, coated in red. Demon blood. The only thing that had ever made him powerful, running in wasted drops over the blade.
Entranced, Sam brought it slowly to his lips.
As the first drop touched his tongue, a tiny fizz of power shot through him. It wasn't much, but it was enough to snap him out of his trance. He flung the blade away with a cry. He couldn't be this, couldn't be so weak. (but it will make you strong)the voice that sounded like Lucifer whispered in his head.
"No!" Sam yelled at nothing. With supreme force of will he strode over and picked up the knife. He wiped it off without looking at it and flung it in his bag. The rest of the stuff on the table was swept in after it.
Sam picked up the bag and walked out of the building, leaving Gregory's corpse behind him.