Sam has his arm around Jack's shoulders, protecting, covering, guarding, and watches Dean, no, remember, not Dean, Michael, it's Michael, fly at Lucifer in an attack.

Oh, God, Sam remembers Michael torturing him, he remembers agony, but it was nothing compared to the Devil, Michael is a soldier, he's God's perfect son, he only knows rules and so, while Michael had the talent, he lacked the creativity of his brother.

Dean, Michael, slams Lucifer into the ground, shaking the earth, shaking the church where Sam first let loose the being of his nightmares.

They're both glowing, Michael with righteous fury, although that paired with a cracked mind isn't the best combination, and Lucifer with ice-cold hatred.

They've had this battle before, millions upon millions upon millions of times. Sam remembers.

He remembers it in so many different recreated vessels, sometimes it's Dean and him, sometimes it's Adam and Nick, sometimes it's John and Him, and sometimes its just bright flashes of grace with a whirlwind of claws and snarling heads.

This fight, it's so familiar to Sam that he's having deja vu.

Jack and Sam have backed up against the wall, watching Lucifer get up with blood-red eyes and hurl Michael, Dean, into a wall. They watch with wide, shocked eyes, but only Sam flinches at every move the two archangels make.

At any point, one of them could get bored, he remembers, at any point, they decide the fight is useless and then they turn to their only plaything in the hell of a cage (how ironic) and then Sam is back to weeks and weeks of torture until the two brothers bicker once again.

He could only pray that they would turn against each other instead of him, but then again, angels hear prayers, and angels don't give you what you want.

Sam blinks, he's been spacing out too much, lately, he's gotta stop, and then he suddenly remembers that Jack's been stabbed, oh, crap, Jack's been stabbed, by Michael no less. Called Jack an abomination and went straight for the gut.

With the damned archangel blade.

Of course, Jack is a nephil, more powerful than Lucifer, and so he doesn't die from the wound, but he is bleeding and he is injured, and oh, God, Sam can't do anything to help other than stand around and panic while his torturers are fighting right next to him.

And then there's a howl and there's shining grace and Lucifer drops dead to the floor.

It's strange how the Devil looks when dead.

And Michael is holding the archangel blade.

Sam steps in front of Jack.

Sam doesn't care if he dies, only if Jack does. He has to keep Jack safe.

Michael, Dean, walks forward towards them. He sneers.

"Abomination."

Who is he talking to?

Jack only thinks of himself, for Sam could never be evil, Sam could never be an abomin-

"I'm talking to you," Michael snarls. "Sam Winchester. The Boy With The Demon Blood."

Sam flinches backward, nearly bumping into Jack whose eyes are flickering back and forth between the two of them in confusion.

Michael shrugs and smirks, flipping the knife around in his fingers.

He is so much more like his brother now.

"Samuel. I'll make this simple. You submit to me," Sam hates that word. "And I'll let your precious nephil live."

Sam wants to speak back, to talk back, Jack is not just a nephil, he has feelings, thoughts, he is not a thing-

But Sam Winchester is not allowed to speak to Michael unless told to.

So Sam kneels, one leg bent, arms resting on a knee, head down.

Don't look an archangel in the eye.

Michael grins. Insane, crazy, crooked, Sam thinks.

"Thank you," Michael speaks, tipping his chin towards Sam.

Jack stands there in horror. He'll look back at this day and wonder why he froze. He knows it was not because of Michael.

"And, Samuel, just for that, I'm going to leave you with a gift you are going to love."

Sam knows this game. He hates it no less.

But he shuts his eyes and plays his role.

Michael taps him on the forehead with two fingers and the world erupts with light.