"Saaaammy?"
"Don't look at him" Sam thinks.
"Saaammy, you hoo!"
Sam doesn't care that it's not going to work, he digs his thumb into the scar on his palm.
"Come on, Sam, I'm not gonna stop 'til you look at me."
Sam reluctantly cracks his eyes open. Lucifer smirks down at him from the bedside with his arms crossed. "You know, I still haven't heard my 'thank you'" he reminds him, "We both know that if I hadn't kicked you in the right direction, big brother'd be worm chow right now."
Sam flinches.
"Ooh, sore spot" Lucifer's face twists into an icy smile. "Yeah, we had a lot of fun down there with Dean, didn't we?" he kneels down and leers in Sam's face. "D'you remember our favorite game, Sammy?"
Sam folds his pillow over his head. He may as well have not moved.
"D'you remember how me and Michael would take turns ridin' you and making you do things to Dean that don't even exist up here?"
Sam crushes his pillow harder over his ears. Out of everything that happened to him down there, hearing Dean screaming and knowing he was the cause of it had to be the worst.
"Stop it" he whimpers. Lucifer chuckles. "Ah, yeah," he sighs and folds his hands behind his head, "good times."
"Shut up, shut up" Sam repeats brokenly, half to the hallucination that won't shut his mouth and half to his memories of Dean screaming and himself begging for it to stop.
Something soft smacks into Sam's face and he jumps halfway to the ceiling.
"Take your own advice, man" Dean growls sleepily. Sam looks, wide-eyed with surprise, from a groggy - though still very pissed off - Dean to the pillow he'd thrown at him and back.
"Right" he mutters lamely, "Sorry."
He hands Dean back his pillow and rolls onto his side away from his brother.
"Wait" Dean asks firmly but reluctantly after a few seconds, "'S that Lucifer you're talkin' to over there?"
Sam doesn't say anything. Lucifer raises his hand in sarcastic triumph. "He can be taught!" he snarks.
"Dammit" Dean growls. Sam hears the blankets of Dean's bed rustle, and then feels his own covers lift beside him. "All right" Dean says, "Move over, tiny."
Sam scoots away from Dean's knee in his back and looks down at his waist in confusion when he feels Dean's arm settle around him.
"What?" He glances back at his brother, totally lost, "What are you doing?"
"Listen up," Dean says roughly, "I wake up with boobs in the morning, you're payin' to get 'em removed."
He rolls Sam over so that he has to face him. "But some hell–dick wants a piece of my little brother?" He pulls Sam into his chest and rests his chin on his head. "He's gonna hafta fight his way past me."
"Well, won't that be fun?" Lucifer asks lightly.
Sam makes a scared little noise and cringes further into Dean's chest. Dean narrows his eyes and glares over Sam's shoulder; he assumes that's where Lucifer is.
"'Ey!" he snarls at him as he wraps an arm across Sam's neck, "Get outta here, you son of a bitch! Nobody screws with Sam's head but me!"
Sam frowns at Dean from under his eyelashes at that, but then he hears a crackle of static over his shoulder...
And Lucifer's gone when he looks.
Sam sighs quietly in relief and nestles back into Dean's chest. His brother's arms tighten protectively around him, and he feels a lot safer than he has a long time. Years, maybe.
"There, now, y'see?" Dean sounds very pleased with himself. He rubs his cheek against Sam's warm, chestnut locks. "I always gotcher back, little brother."
A/N: Yeah, this is what Sam needs right now; lots of comfort and bro huggles. Honestly, I think they might both benefit from this.
