A/N: Me, writing another non-con Samifer story? Hell yeah. This one's been in my head since the season 13 finale, and it was so fun to write, but also... disturbing. Lucifer needs his mouth sewn shut. Also, I traumatized Jack more than I had originally planned. Sorry, Jack. I love you.
A shitty by accurate title for this could also be: "Sex Ed With Satan"
WARNINGS: Graphic depictions of violence, rape/non-con, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt
Jack heard Lucifer choking Sam, but he was still too weak to get up, and he didn't want to admit it, but he was scared. His dad was gasping for breath, and he heard Lucifer speaking:
"You know…" he began, and then paused to sigh, as if it would add more emphasis to his words. "It's been fun. I really had a great time with you, but I think we should see other people. What do you say?"
Jack didn't understand what Lucifer was talking about, but he heard Sam suffering, trying to draw in breaths, his voice laced with pain. So he started picking himself up off the floor. It felt like all of his muscles were filled with lead. But when Sam started letting out a choked scream, he managed. He couldn't see well from where he was, but it looked like Lucifer's hand was on his dad's chest now. Even though it nearly looked like he was going to rip off his shirt, Jack knew what he was doing.
He was going to kill him.
"Stop!"
Just as Lucifer turned to him, his eyes still glowing a terrifying gold, Jack was straightening. He let go of Sam, and he dropped to the floor, gasping for breath as he curled up on his side.
"Now why I should I listen to you?" he asked as he came over to him, Sam seemingly forgotten for now. It relieved Jack since he hadn't been able to stand watching his dad be in that kind of pain, didn't like that Lucifer was just so ready to kill him. But now his biological father, the one with all the power, was focused on him, and his heart was thudding rapidly in his chest.
I can do this. I can do this.
Jack stood his ground, forcing himself to walk with confidence towards the archangel, towards the monster that had brought him to this church.
"Because… I'm your son."
"Oh yeah, well you had your chance with that, but…"
He grunted as he was suddenly backhanded in the face, the blow twisting his neck at a painful angle.
"Now?"
A punch that made his nose explode with pain and he fell to one knee. It served to answer the question he'd asked, served to tell him that he didn't care about Jack, that he never had, that he'd always only wanted to use him, and he'd failed.
He was punched again, and the force of it knocked him to the ground so that he was facing away from Lucifer. Jack threw out his hands to catch himself right before he fell on his throbbing face.
"As for kids… Ah, I can make more of those," he informed him casually.
Jack was a bit confused by that, but he didn't have time to think about it because he heard another punch, and he flinched, but this one wasn't aimed at him. He heard Sam cry out, and then fall to the church floor. He must've tried grabbing Lucifer to get him away from him, and he had turned on him and hurt him. Jack groaned as he tried getting off the floor, his voice high-pitched and pathetic, but he couldn't.
"Wow, daddy Sammy coming to the rescue," he commented.
Suddenly something grabbed Jack, it was like energy, but it felt physical, as tough as iron, and it had twisted him as he started getting up so that he was now facing Lucifer and his dad. Blood dripped down his face as he was made to get on his knees, his back rigid. Sam was crawling backwards, his terrified gaze on Lucifer, but every once in awhile he'd glance at Jack, keeping track of him, and it made Jack feel protected even though he was so scared that it felt like he couldn't breathe.
"Hey, Jackie," Lucifer called to him tauntingly, "wanna see why daddy here is so scared of me?"
"No… No," he heard Sam get out, and Jack saw him trying to back away even more, even rise to his feet, but a crooked pew that was behind him and scattered with abandoned books kept him from doing so. He had one elbow up on the dark wood.
"Don't hurt him!" Jack cried out.
That's surely what Lucifer was going to do. He hurt people. He killed people. Was he going to do that to Sam right before his eyes? But what would be different about how he'd been hurting Sam before? Did this have anything to do with Sam's fear of Jack? Jack had noticed it almost immediately, especially when he'd been locked in a prison cell with him. Sam had kept to the wall, had flinched when he'd moved or drawn closer, and sometimes when he entered a room Sam was in he would hunch in on himself and slouch as if he was trying to make himself look smaller. He was scared of him in a different way than Dean was; that much he'd been able to pick up on. It'd smelled different too. His fear ran deeper, and he had never understood it. But Sam never acted on it, acted on his love instead, so he'd just grown to accept it. But was this connected to Lucifer somehow? Had Lucifer done something to him?
"I will hurt him," Lucifer said, slowly walking over to Sam. "I've hurt him before. Over and over and over again." He grabbed Sam by the throat and lifted him up, Sam struggling the whole time, his entire body shaking. He turned to Jack. "You see, he's not scared of me because I tempted the first humans towards sin, because I created the potential to damn the entire race. Oh no, no, no. That's not the reason. The reason, is something else entirely, isn't it, Sammy?"
At that, he turned and stroked his face, which was red from lack of oxygen. Sam still found it in him to try and flinch away, a strangled grunt leaving him.
Jack let out a wordless shout, tried to move, but nothing worked. Jack found that Lucifer touching him in that way was odd. It was gentle, and Jack had never really seen someone else touch someone like that.
Lucifer seemed to notice his struggles and said, "You're stuck there, kiddo. Just gonna have to sit back and watch the show." Lucifer bit his bottom lip before turning back to Sam, a serene smile on his face, his voice lower. "And what a wonderful show it's going to be. What do you say, Sam? One more time together?"
"Let him go!"
Lucifer did let him go, but then he grabbed Sam by the hair, his dad holding onto Lucifer's wrist, and he dragged him over to throw him in front of Jack. Their eyes met, and Sam got out, "Look away if you can. I don't want you to see this."
Talking to him made him receive a kick in the head and Jack started crying. Helpless. He was utterly helpless, and all he could do was watch, watch as Lucifer would do something horrific to his dad. He couldn't even fathom what it could be and he was just so scared. He wanted it all to stop.
Jack was going to turn his head, was going to listen to him, but then he felt an all powerful energy around his head, around his neck, and he was stuck looking down at his hurting and terrified dad.
Lucifer was on Sam now, straddling him, and Sam was struggling beneath him, trying to crawl away. But it seemed like there was nowhere to go; his hand was close enough to touch Jack's knee. His fingers brushed against him gently for a second as if Sam was trying to reassure Jack with that quick touch that things were going to be okay, and then Lucifer dragged him down a few inches. He grabbed his head in his hands and mercilessly slammed his face into the hard marble floor, so now Sam's nose had blood gushing from it as well. Jack desperately wished to reach out, even just to grab onto Sam's hand, to let him know he was there.
He started trying to rise up on his elbows, and Lucifer grabbed his head again, leaning down to say into his ear, "You haven't been this feisty since the early days in the Cage. What's changed? Is it your pathetic, murderous son that you've decided to adopt? Are you trying to be strong for him?"
Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times, even growled at Lucifer, and then he said, "S'not pathetic."
"Oh, what was that? He's not pathetic? I'm sorry, but would you look at him!" He raised Sam's head up, till his already bruising neck was at an angle that must've hurt. "He can't do anything while I tear you apart. And oh, look at the wittle baby, he's been crying. Huh, poor sucker doesn't know what he's in for. Do you think he'll understand it? Have you given him the talk yet?"
Sam let out a ferocious yell, knocked one of Lucifer's knees aside, essentially making him fall on him. But Sam went with the motion and rolled, making it so that he was on top. He twisted his legs, clearly intending to roll right off of him, but Lucifer hooked a leg around him, his arms around his torso, and Sam kicked, writhing on top of him.
"How would you like me to use my powers, Sammy? I could use what I took from your son. That'd be intimate, wouldn't it? Just the perfect thing to add to this moment."
Lucifer let out a long, peaceful-sounding exhale, and then Sam stopped fighting. At first Jack had thought his body had gone limp, but then he saw miniscule tremors running through him. Lucifer shoved Sam off of him, and Sam tried to get up again despite how he was shaking.
Lucifer rose to his feet, straddling him again, grabbing him around his waist. "Look, I like that you're putting up a fight. I really do. I admire that, but we're on a tight schedule here. Gotta finish up our goodbye before Michael shows up."
He snapped his fingers and Sam moaned, collapsing. Jack didn't know what was happening, couldn't tell if Sam was in pain or not. It frightened him that he couldn't smell his dad's emotions to gauge how he was feeling anymore. But he had a feeling he was more scared than even Jack was.
Lucifer's hands went beneath him, undoing his belt, which confused Jack greatly.
"Stop," Sam murmured. "At least… oh god, at least keep Jack out of this. He doesn't… he doesn't have to know."
"Are you ashamed?" Lucifer asked, his hand traveling lower, groping, caressing. Jack didn't know what that kind of touch meant. All he knew was that Sam's grimace spoke of dislike, of disgust. He didn't want this, whatever this was. "Is that it? Don't want Jack seeing you vulnerable? Hmm… Maybe you're worried he'll catch on and do this to you next. He might've liked that once, back when he was all powerful, before I ate from him."
"He won't… understand."
"Tell me!" Jack shouted, hating how they were now speaking about him like he wasn't even there. "Tell me! What's going on? Lucifer, what are you going to do to him?"
He tilted his head up to him as his hands continued to work underneath Sam, whose jeans were now being dragged down. A grin, his eyes golden, just like Jack's had once been. That stung, and then stabbed, a pain going deep into his chest.
"Oh, you'll see," he responded.
Sam didn't seem to like that, and he grabbed control over his shuddering body again. He got up on his elbows, up on his knees.
Then Lucifer snapped his fingers.
Jack saw Sam's muscles tensing in quick bursts, as if he was trying to move, just like Jack had been doing earlier and was still doing out of instinct. But he was still.
Lucifer patted his backside in a way that Jack would describe as fond. He hadn't seen such a gesture before, and it made him curious. The look on Sam's face as his cheeks reddened told him it wasn't a good gesture.
"Thanks, daddy. Wanted you like that eventually."
Sam tilted his head up to Jack as Lucifer bared his skin below his waist.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Jack wanted to shake his head, but he couldn't, and he wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, but the words were stuck in his mouth.
Jack still didn't understand humans that much, and sometimes was still a bit confused by clothing. He knew it was important to them though, and it especially seemed that way to Sam with the multiple layers he wore. But now he was seeing a part of Sam he never had before and he wanted to look away, feeling like he was seeing something he wasn't supposed to. He was curious. What he saw of Sam's backside was firm, and a glance downward showed his penis in between his legs. Jack didn't know what exactly he was seeing, but it was at an angle he hadn't expected, almost as if it was hard and heavy, and the tip glistened as if it was wet.
Lucifer wasn't even touching Sam now, was undoing his own pants, which made Jack question what was going to happen next. Why would Lucifer also choose to be vulnerable in this moment? If it made Sam vulnerable then wouldn't it also do the same for him?
Jack noticed a bulge in his pants that hadn't been there before, and his lack of knowledge about any of this made him unable to look away. He had stopped crying now, too busy trying to figure all this out.
His gaze drew back to his dad as a deep groan that seemed to emanate from his chest left him. What he could see of his skin before it disappeared underneath his shirt was red and his cheeks were flushed. His eyes were closed now, and his mouth dropped open.
Was he hurting somehow?
Or was it something else?
Did he feel good?
Why would Lucifer make Sam feel good?
"Missed that trick with my powers, didn't you?" Lucifer asked, lowering his pants. "I bet you forgot how much of a slut you were."
Jack frowned. Slut. He didn't know that word.
But Sam growled at him for it, so Jack knew it was a bad word. He felt awful that he'd been called that since he seemed to hate it so much.
"I know, usually, I'd do the foreplay stuff with my hands, make you actually feel skin against you, but we're on the clock here. Besides, had to get your needy body to cooperate somehow."
He slapped his backside, the sound resonating throughout the church, and Jack winced just as Sam did. His first instinct was to lunge at Lucifer to get him away from him. But that wasn't possible.
He'd finished lowering his pants now too, and he was holding his penis in his hand. It didn't look as big as Sam's, but still, all Jack could do was stare. It looked hard too. What could he possibly be doing? How was it hard? Jack wanted to look down at himself, wondered if that could happen to him as well. Jack hadn't even known that was something that could happen. It disgusted him just as it intrigued him. And then Lucifer was pressing against Sam, who was taking forced deep breaths as if he was about to throw up. Jack felt heat flood him when he looked at Sam's face. Anger, disgust, even fear that had his body trying to quiver. The disgust wasn't with Sam. It never could be. But something seemed seriously wrong, but he just didn't understand. Sam's forearms were shaking, and then he was gritting his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut. Lucifer was moving his hips forward, and then Sam was crying out.
"Stop!" Jack yelled, his throat hurting, the corners of his eyes stinging anew. "Stop! Stop!"
"Stop what?" Lucifer asked, his voice rough and breathy. "You don't even know what's happening, kid, but I'll give you a spoiler. I'm inside your daddy."
Jack frowned, lowering his eyebrows in confusion.
How?
Lucifer sighed as if he'd heard Jack's thought, and then grunted out, "Fine, I'll let you see up close."
He snapped his fingers again, and now Jack was lifting off the floor, being dragged over to Sam's right side, his feet brushing against the marble. And then he remained suspended like that. He could see everything now and he still didn't understand. Somehow, Lucifer was inside Sam and he kept pushing into him, and there was a little bit of blood. Sam's voice was harsh, and he still seemed to be trying very hard to not scream.
Jack felt sick to his stomach as he began crying again. He'd seen violence before in Apocalypse World, and death. Had nightmares about it, nightmares about the people he couldn't save. But he'd never witnessed anything like this. And now he knew if he lived through this day he'd have nightmares about this, about not being able to save Sam.
Lucifer groaned, thrusted forward sharply, and then he was completely buried in Sam. His dad had shouted from the sudden movement. Jack wished he could move. He didn't want to see this, didn't want this to happen. And if he couldn't stop it he at least wanted to be able to hold Sam while he suffered through it.
Lucifer pulled his hips away before slamming back into him, their skin slapping together, and now Jack couldn't tell if his nose was still bleeding or if it was running. More tears made their way down his cheeks. Lucifer kept going at Sam, and Jack's vision blurred. He was thankful for this hindrance of his eyesight. It was probably better not seeing any of this. Though he was so curious about what was happening, seeing Sam get hurt like this made it feel like he was getting stabbed. He was useless, and helpless, and weak, and pathetic, and there was no point in him even being alive anymore. He wouldn't be with his biological father, didn't want to be since he was a monster, he didn't know what was happening to his other dads, Dean and Castiel, but he figured Michael had killed them. And now Sam was getting tortured, and Jack was human, unable to do anything but watch and listen to him scream.
"Please stop," he sobbed out, even though he knew it meant nothing. "I d-don't… don't like this."
"Gotta… give you your sex ed somehow."
Sex. Jack didn't know that word, and he was sobbing too much to ask what it meant.
Lucifer growled, as if he was annoyed, and then Jack no longer felt pressure around his arms and hands.
"Look, wipe your tears away. I'm gonna teach you some stuff."
"But you're not… not my father," he argued.
Lucifer stilled inside of Sam, and Sam quieted till he was just groaning and trying to catch his breath. He patted his waist.
"Doesn't look like Sammy taught you anything, though, so I should at least help out a bit."
"Lucifer," Sam growled. "Shut. Up."
"Aw, but then how is he going to learn? Come on, Jack, aren't you a little curious?"
"No," he lied.
"Okay, so this," - he reached underneath Sam, grabbing his penis, and Sam let out a long breath, hanging his head - "is called a penis."
"I know that already."
"Well, do you know what it means when it's like this?" He started stroking and tugging and Sam clenched his jaw to hold his voice in. "It means your dad is enjoying what I'm doing to him."
"Jack," he groaned, "don't listen to him."
Lucifer slapped Sam's backside again, leaving a red handprint on his bare skin.
Jack didn't want to believe Lucifer, was still angry with him for everything else he'd lied to him about, but Sam wasn't explaining, so he didn't know what to think. Was this all bad? Was that why Sam wasn't saying anything about it? It seemed personal, somehow. He was seeing parts of Sam he hadn't seen before, and Lucifer was inside Sam, so it must be personal. Why was Lucifer in Sam's space like that? He said he'd done it before, but he didn't understand the point of doing so. If he wanted to hurt Sam, couldn't he just do it in another way that was perhaps less… violating? Jack didn't know how he would feel if someone was inside him like that, or if he was inside someone like that. He felt sick just thinking about it.
He lifted up his arm to wipe away more tears on his sleeve, and he took the time to do so for the blood. It had gotten into his mouth, and he didn't like the heavy, metallic taste.
Jack wanted to listen to Sam, felt like he had to, but where else was he going to get an explanation? Was this something Sam had been going to keep from him forever? Looking at the incredibly awkward position they were in, with Lucifer just resting inside of him, blood beginning to make its way down the inner parts of Sam's thighs, Jack could almost understand why.
But Sam couldn't be enjoying it. Lucifer had to be lying about that.
But his moans a few minutes ago hadn't sounded like pain, and he couldn't think of what else could make Sam's penis hard.
"And these," he went on, running his hand lower to grip another part of Sam, making him grunt - Jack couldn't really see because of Sam's thigh, but he wasn't about to point that out because he knew Lucifer would just make him get closer, and he didn't want that - "are your daddy's balls." He lightly slapped his hand against Sam in a playful manner as he explained, "And they're pretty heavy right now, which means, Sammy here, his body is making a lot of cum to give to me. Guess I'm doing a good job." He pulled his hips back a bit and then jabbed them forward, making Sam cry out. Jack wanted to reach out to him, to help him.
"And…" Jack began tentatively, his voice rough from the sobbing he'd been doing earlier, "what does that mean?"
"See, kid, it's the stuff that helps make babies. It's what I put in your dumb bitch of a mother."
Jack didn't like where his thinking went next, but he figured Lucifer would know his thoughts anyway, so he questioned aloud, "And is that what you're going to put in my dad?"
"Well, I gotta mark my territory, don't I? What do you think, Sam? You want it in your ass or your mouth?"
At the last part of the question, Jack saw Sam clench his jaw shut, and he said nothing.
"Guess it'll be your ass then. Besides, you're fighting a lot. I don't need you getting any funny ideas and biting me."
Though Jack now thought he had a bit of a better understanding of the anatomy of all this he was still confused as to what the end goal was here. Was it just to hurt Sam? What did he mean by marking his territory? Was Sam his? Why would Sam be his?
It was true, Sam seemed different from other humans, and sometimes when Jack looked at him he was reminded of Lucifer for some reason. Did it have to do with that? What was Sam to Lucifer? Sam had always felt different. Dean had always felt different. They were… special somehow. But did that connect them both to Lucifer in some way?
No, no. Not Dean. Just Sam. He only felt it from Sam. He looked at Dean and thought of Michael.
Jack didn't understand.
But he thought he was beginning to understand why Sam had been so afraid of him. Sam must've looked at him and seen Lucifer as well. They were both connected to this monster in some way.
Lucifer started thrusting into Sam again, his hips nearly blurring at the inhuman speed he was going at, and Sam was screaming again, and Lucifer was laughing through his moans.
"Stop!" Jack screamed again. "Can't you see he doesn't want it?!"
Lucifer slowed, making sure he was buried completely in Sam, and his dad was shaking fiercely now, spit dripping out of his open mouth. A growling noise seemed to be emanating from his chest, and even more blood was running down his thighs, some of it getting on his balls. And when he saw Lucifer out of Sam, he'd been covered in his dad's blood.
Lucifer turned and winked at him. "That's torture for ya, Jack. You would know if you had just gone along with being my son. I would've taught you everything. But no. You're not my son. You had to be his!" At the last word he pulled out and slammed himself into Sam again.
Jack was already screaming no before he thought about how that word wouldn't work.
"What do you think, Jack?!" he yelled over his screams, yelled over Sam's, as he was hurting him again. "You like seeing daddy get fucked?!"
Lucifer's eyes were still the gold that Jack's eyes had once been when he used his powers, so he was doing something else to Sam as well. Something Jack couldn't see. Whatever it was, it must've contributed to the fact that Sam was still hard in between his legs. The pain would make that go away, right? But it hadn't. His dad was sweating profusely, his soft hair becoming slick with it. His cheeks and neck were red, and his eyes were squeezed shut.
Jack wasn't sure how long he was held suspended there, crying, his nose running, mixing with the blood. He tried to reach out to Sam, but he couldn't move his torso. And there were little twitches in Sam's body that showed he was trying to move as well, but couldn't.
Jack wanted someone to stab his eardrums. He wanted that person to rip his eyes out, to burn his memories into nothing. His dad was hurting, and all he could do was watch.
He felt very sick to his stomach now, and it was worse when Sam's voice grew hoarse, because then he could hear the sound of Lucifer's skin slapping against his even more, could hear his predatory growls. Jack groaned and closed his eyes, put his hands over his ears, but that did nothing. He could still hear everything, and in his mind he still saw it all, knew exactly what was happening to his poor dad.
He couldn't believe that Lucifer had done this to him before.
He knew his biological father was a monster, knew he had killed people, that he had hurt people, that he had tempted the first humans towards sin. But he hadn't known that anyone could hurt another being like this. It was profoundly disturbing and horrifying and it made it feel like his heart was getting crushed.
Then his hands were at his sides again, and there was a voice in his head, a voice that dripped with malice, carving into his brain, his soul, and it commanded he be obeyed: Open your eyes.
Jack was shuddering now, clenching his jaw shut against the scream he wanted to let out, but his chest heaved with a sob, and then he was shouting out his own pain. Letting his voice out like that did nothing, and still there was that command he felt more than heard.
Open your eyes.
Jack did so, and though his vision was blurred with tears, he still knew what was happening, saw it clearly in his head. The pain left him, but he was still hurting. He was hurting because Sam was hurting.
He sniffled, a whimper leaving him.
Kill. He wanted to kill Lucifer. He wanted to mutilate him. He knew he had the archangel blade on him. Maybe he could trick him into thinking he was on his side, that he was… that he was going to hurt Sam too. He could get close to him, grab the archangel blade, and kill him.
Would it work? As a human, could he do that?
Jack didn't know, but he had to try.
His throat aching, he willed his tears to go away. He had to stop thinking about what was happening. He had to! He felt like he was getting stabbed just watching Sam, and he had to hold his breath to make sure he wouldn't continue sobbing.
"I'll… I'll help," he eventually said once he thought he had his voice under control. He sounded cold to himself, emotionless. That's what he had to be right now, but there was more to it than that.
He was drawing from how he'd felt about accidently killing people. He hadn't cared about them. He'd only cared about himself, had cared that he'd screwed up, and that his family would judge him for it, would hurt him, or lock him away. He drew on the memories of when Lucifer had reached out to him before he was born, his eyes a searing red amidst darkness and shadows, and he had liked it even as it had terrified him. He took his guilt and his pain and his self loathing, and he twisted it, sculpted it, until it was a rough likeness of his biological father's Grace, of his sin and evil. Underneath it was still soft, and warm, filled with love, but he couldn't let that out right now. He couldn't. Sam depended on it. He needed to be strong for Sam. He needed to be harsh for Sam. Needed to be harsh and cold and… and evil. Evil just like Dean had thought he'd be. Evil like his mother hadn't wanted him to be.
I'm sorry, Mom.
"Lucifer, I'll hurt him with you."
Lucifer actually fully pulled out of Sam at that, the noise the action made wet and obscene, and he leaned against him as he turned to Jack, face etched with surprise. The golden glow of his eyes that he'd stolen from him turned back to that dull blue.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Let me go," Jack began, "and I'll hurt him with you. You said something about his mouth earlier, right? I'll do it."
Lucifer still said nothing, was just looking at him, probably trying to figure out what he was doing.
"Or you could take his mouth, and I can…"
He looked pointedly at Sam's backside, and he felt nothing as he did so. Absolutely nothing. The love for him in the very center might have pulsed painfully, might be bleeding as if it'd been stabbed, but there were no cracks in his malevolent demeanor. Each second he drew from it it began to feel more and more natural.
Lucifer's features relaxed and then he gave Jack a smile that would make his blood run cold had he been the one getting tortured by him.
Is Sam getting tortured? Jack idly wondered.
He had to be. Though Lucifer wasn't using any tools or devices or weapons, Sam was still in excruciating pain, was still being forced through something he didn't want. It was torture. And Jack was offering to help.
But he wouldn't really. He couldn't. The thought of hurting Sam again, and to the extent that Lucifer would want, sickened him greatly. The mere thought of it made him feel like he had to somehow scrub his mind clean.
He was released from the bonds of energy he couldn't see, and he fell to the floor.
"Jack," Sam got out in a rough whisper. "What are… what are you doing?"
"Shut up!" Jack yelled at him, thinking Lucifer might do the same in that situation. He had a feeling Lucifer would also hurt him as he told him to be quiet, but he couldn't bring himself to reach out and do that.
He rose to his feet, wiping his face, which caused it to throb dully.
"You don't have to do this," Sam nearly whined as he stepped closer to him. "You know who Lucifer is. You know he's a monster. Please, think of your mother. She didn't want you to be like this."
Jack made it look like he kicked Sam. He did so with a vicious yell, his sneaker nearly touching Sam beneath the ribs, and Sam, even though he must've been in a world of hurt, picked up on what was happening immediately. He flinched from it, forced the air out of himself, and then grunted.
Jack grabbed his hair, lifting his head up. He wanted to betray his plan in his eyes, but he knew Lucifer would see even a single hint of softness. And he was yanking on Sam's hair pretty hard. He could see the way the tendons in his neck strained.
"I told you to shut up. You don't make decisions for me. Lucifer doesn't make decisions for me. I do."
He dropped Sam's head back down, and turned to Lucifer. "So how are we doing this?"
Lucifer just started laughing, and went over to Jack. It took everything he had to not flinch away from him.
"I'll get his mouth," he told him. "Want you to find out how sweet his ass is."
Jack reached out, as if he was going to give Lucifer a casual pat, letting him know that they were doing this together, but then he grabbed him, tried reaching into his jacket. It had to be there somewhere, right?
Then Lucifer grabbed Jack by the shoulder with one hand, and he froze, thinking he was going to throw him, to crush him with his hand. His hopes fell and he nearly started crying again. His fear broke through his cold exterior, speared all he felt inside, breaking the darkness in himself he'd tried to keep up. It hadn't been strong enough. Or maybe his plan hadn't been good enough. Lucifer was too smart, and Jack was doomed.
"Really? You think I'd keep it in there when I can just do this?"
His right hand, which had been at his side, had been empty, but now Jack saw the golden, twisted blade in it, and his heart started racing.
He lifted it up, and Jack tried getting out of his grip, but he now had him by the throat. The blade was tapped against his nose, not hard, but enough to make him start bleeding.
"Not so easy being a dumb human, is it? I have some plans for how this gets used later, a little surprise for you and daddy here." He kicked back, his foot actually connecting with Sam, and Jack heard a crunching noise as he drove it into his side, and then his breath left him in a pained wheeze. "Guess I'll take this opportunity to make things even while I've got you here like this."
Jack was suddenly filled with pain, just above his left hip, and he opened his mouth to cry out, but only a choked sob left him, his eyes filling with tears. The pain started as a dull throb, a bit of deep pressure, and then it grew, more and more until he wanted to cut off the piece of himself that was hurting in the hopes it'd go away. He knew that thought was stupid, but it just hurt so bad!
He had one hand on Lucifer's wrist, the one around his throat, and the other was shaking as he reached down to find the archangel blade stuck in him. Lucifer was still holding onto it, and as Jack's vision began to tunnel, his lungs and head pounding, he tried to pry his fingers off of it.
The blade was pulled free and he felt the deep throbbing in the same spot on the right.
Lucifer pulled the blade free, heat seeming to leave his body as blood flowed out, and he dropped him to the floor.
Jack's voice wouldn't leave him as he tried to breathe. He couldn't cope with the pain, didn't realize what had happened.
His first instinct was to heal himself, but he couldn't. He couldn't!
I'm sorry, Sam.
He'd failed. He'd failed.
And he was going to die. They were both going to die.
Lucifer tossed the blade aside near Jack, seeming confident he wouldn't grab it. And he couldn't. All he thought about was the hot pool of blood that was steadily growing around him, and Sam, who he was lying next to. Sam was looking at him, his upper lip trembling, tears in his eyes.
Jack whimpered and reached out to him, weakly grabbing hold of his pinky finger. And he decided he wasn't going to let go.
Lucifer must've settled in Sam again 'cause he started trembling once more, and he clenched his jaw. But then he was crying out again, his throat scraped raw from his own voice.
And still, Jack held on. He held on to let Sam know he was there, that he didn't have to be alone through all this, that Jack didn't want this to be happening to him, that Jack was sorry. He held on to let Sam know that he didn't want this to be happening to him, that he didn't want to be there in that church, that he didn't want Sam to be there. He held on to let Sam know that he loved him. He loved him, and nothing could take that away from him.
Jack's senses faded in and out, warmth leaving his body, cold seeping in. Sam's voice changed, became something more gravelly and animalistic, and there was something else in it besides pain, something that bled into it and filled the air. He couldn't figure out what it was, but then Jack thought his dad might've started shuddering all over, terrifying, hoarse shrieks leaving him. He'd been pushed past his breaking point somehow. He must've.
Jack didn't know how Sam hadn't sounded this agonized before. It made a tear slide down his cheek and onto the beautiful blue, white, and gold pattern on the marble floor, which was already becoming decorated with his blood. A drop of blood dripped off his nose, and he did his best to hold onto Sam more tightly, but he couldn't reach out far enough to grasp more than just his little finger, didn't have enough energy in him.
Then Lucifer was moaning louder, and Jack heard him going at him more quickly, and then an ecstatic cry that made Jack want to stab his eardrums left his biological father. Sam was whining now, and then he collapsed on the ground beside Jack, Lucifer finally letting him go.
Jack prayed and prayed that he was finished with him.
He heard movement, a shuffle of clothing, and then he zipped up his jeans. He kicked the archangel blade between them.
"Okay, so I know you're both half dead at this point, but up. On your feet. I want a show from you two. And more than that… I want to prove something to you. You most of all, Sam."
Jack didn't have it in him to get up, but he heard Sam shuffling around, his hand leaving his. He heard the clink of a belt buckle, groaning, and then somehow, Sam must've been standing.
Lucifer grabbed Jack and hauled him to his feet. He felt like if he let go he was going to collapse, and Sam looked like he was going to, his previously reddened face now turning pale.
He let go of Jack, and somehow he was standing on his own. He pressed his hands against the wounds over his hips, wincing from how badly they hurt. Blood began to coat his hands. Jack peered at Sam, saw something white-ish and wet on his shirt, and he wondered what it was. Was it that substance that Lucifer had told him about earlier? It disgusted him, even as he peered at it.
But, his focus was drawn away as Lucifer went on, pointing at him, "Now, Jackie here, your nougat loving boy, has got lots of blood on his hands." He beamed as if he was excited that Jack now literally had blood on his hands.
"I don't care," Sam got out. "He's family."
"What's family done for anybody? My dad left me, my brothers… tried to kill me. A lot. Family blows. I'm gonna prove it to ya."
Jack almost wanted to roll his eyes. He didn't have time for Lucifer complaining like this, and especially now that he knew it was all fake, it meant nothing to him. Lucifer was the bad guy here.
But he was in charge. They were too hurt to do anything other than what he asked.
So they would. And that meant listening to what must have been lies. Well, they sounded truthful, but Lucifer was making himself out to be the victim. Like he'd done before. Jack knew that was fake now. There was no going back from what he'd learned, from what he'd seen, from what he'd felt. He looked to Sam, blinking away a few tears.
And he didn't know what to say.
Because it was true. Maybe it didn't matter that he was family. He had hurt people. He'd hurt Sam before, and he'd failed to save him. He loved his dad. He did. He really did, but Jack didn't see how he could love him when he couldn't save him from this.
Jack didn't know how, but his dad turned and faced Lucifer, looking him right in the eye. A shudder ran through him, but he stood his ground, and in that moment Jack realized that he wanted to be as strong as Sam was. So he straightened, tried to steady himself. He wasn't sure he had any tears left, but whatever happened next, he promised himself he wouldn't cry.
He was going to be brave like his dad.
"What?" he asked. "By killing me? Go ahead."
Jack couldn't tell if his last words were from bravery or not. Jack himself wanted to die, and he wasn't sure how Sam couldn't possibly want to. Maybe he did. Was Sam being weak? Was Sam trying to protect him? Jack didn't know.
But he knew one thing.
He didn't want Sam to die.
Lucifer frowned, looked away.
"No, I'm not gonna kill you."
Sam's face fell, and it stabbed Jack in the heart.
Lucifer pointed at him, and Jack was too weak to show he was surprised. "He is," Lucifer continued, and then he pointed down at the knife between the two of them. They both glanced at it, understanding what Lucifer wanted. "I could - I probably should - execute you. I mean really, really use my imagination, but, after all I've done to you, I'm feeling generous today. Feel you might've learned your lesson, so one of you is gonna walk out that door - hm, if you even can walk - and the other will be laying dead on the ground. You choose."
"No," Sam said instantly, shaking his head a little.
Lucifer sighed, and then said, "Or you could do that, and I can murder you both, and end all life in the universe."
Jack didn't want all life in the universe to end, and after what he'd seen, he wanted to die. He really, really wanted to die. He would stop hurting then, wouldn't have any memories of Sam screaming to deal with. But Sam wanted to die too. After what he'd been through, should Jack give him that? Should he allow his dad to die so he could be at peace?
But would he be at peace?
No, maybe not.
But Sam was brave, Sam was strong. He had to live. He had to!
"I could re-make it in my image," Lucifer went on. "Make it better than Dad ever could. I'm thinking… Hm… Fire-breathing dragons, sassy talkin' robots." He laughed and it sounded so gentle, so calm, that Jack couldn't make sense of it. It didn't match the monster that he knew he was. "I might give humans another chance if they know their place and worship me 'cause I've earned it." Sam growled at that, and if Jack had the strength to, he thought he might've lunged at him. But it was so hard to just keep himself from falling down, and Sam must've been trying just as hard to remain standing. "But, hey, it'll probably take a few days to unravel the universe, maybe uh… seven, ten days, tops. So maybe, just maybe, one of you could stop me. Maybe. Well let's see! Clock's tickin', guys, and I uh, already took up some precious time reacquainting myself with Sammy's ass one last time."
Lucifer stepped back, giving them room, and smiled.
Lucifer's words terrified him, and made him realize that one of them would have to die. But he couldn't imagine killing Sam. He'd stay still, let his dad do it, let him kill him.
Sam's hazel gaze met his own, his chest heaving with each breath, and it looked as if he was trying not to wince. Earlier when Lucifer had kicked him he must've broken a rib.
Then, Sam leaned down - nearly crying out as he did so, nearly falling - and picked up the knife.
Lucifer snickered. "I would apologize for tearing you apart, but Jack had to get sex ed somehow." He shrugged. "Besides, what would a last goodbye be without a little love making, am I right? Or maybe this isn't a last goodbye after all." He winked at his dad, and Sam turned his head away, lowering his gaze.
But then he swallowed roughly, took in as deep a breath as he could, and even while he was shaking he turned to Lucifer, hatred in his eyes, and for a second, Jack thought he was going to stab the knife into his chest. But he reached out, offering it to Jack.
"Kill me."
Jack had promised himself he wouldn't cry again, but the corners of his eyes started stinging as he shook his head and looked down at the blade. It was so sharp. Could he plunge that into Sam's chest? Could he kill him?
No.
No. Jack couldn't hurt Sam. He couldn't. He'd hurt him before, and he was the reason he was hurting now. Killing him was beyond anything he could ever do.
"What?" he asked, looking up at his dad.
"Kill me," Sam pleaded. "You can stop him, Jack." He took Jack's hand in his own, putting the archangel blade into it. "You can get your power back.
"I-I-I can't. I can't. I can't beat him."
He couldn't. He knew he couldn't. Jack was so weak, weaker than Sam, weaker than Dean, weaker than Castiel, weaker than anyone. And because of it one of them was going to die, or the universe would burn. Because of it, Sam had been tortured. Again.
But he was still standing. He was still breathing and living, even when Jack didn't understand how.
Sam wasn't weak. He could never be weak.
"But you can," he surmised, stepping away from Sam so he wouldn't try to take the blade from him.
"What?"
Jack hoped there was love and hope in his eyes when he told him truthfully, "I know you can."
Sam shook his head, panic alighting in his already pained and horrified eyes. "No, no, no, no, no. Jack!"
Jack gripped the hilt in both hands, positioning it so that the sharp blade was a few centimeters away from his chest. It was slippery with all the blood on his hands. But he could do this. He would do this. He had to.
"Don't! Jack! Jack!"
For Sam.
He looked up at his dad one last time. He had to know. He had to let him know. "I love you. I love all of you."
"Jack, don't! Don't!"
And then Jack slowly slid the blade into himself. It hurt more slowly than it did stabbing him quickly, but he was so scared that he couldn't do it any other way. This way he felt all of the bloodied metal as it went into him. It stung and ached and burned and stabbed. But he would do it. He had to do it.
There was a blinding light, and Jack turned, doing his best to face it, to see what it was.
He thought he might've been looking at Dean, at a shadow of massive wings on the church walls and stained glass windows behind him. Jack dropped the blade and fell to the ground. Sam fell as well, holding himself up on a pew, and Jack crawled over to him. He held Sam, and Sam held him.
"Dean?" Sam questioned, and Jack felt his voice rumble in his chest as he spoke.
"Hiya, Sammy."
That was the last he heard before blackness overcame him.
Jack didn't know what happened next, thought maybe he heard some screaming, fighting, talking. Sam was crying again, and when Jack woke up, Lucifer was dead, his wings spread out as dark, glittering, burning shadows. And he looked… peaceful, even with blood spreading out onto his white shirt over his heart.
"W-what happened?" Jack asked. "Is he…?"
"He's dead," Sam announced, utter relief filling his voice. And joy, joy like he'd never heard before, even amongst all the pain that was still in it. Sam was happy. He was hurting, but he was happy. His torturer was dead.
And Jack was happy.
He was drawn to Dean, who was still standing there as his other dad said, "Holy crap."
"You did it."
"No," Dean said to his brother. "No, we did it." And then he looked at Jack, including him. "We did."
He didn't feel like he deserved any praise. If anyone did it was Dean, it was Sam. But not him. But the way he'd said it, the way he was looking at him, the heavy, relieved breaths that were leaving Sam, almost as if he was trying to laugh made him feel apart of something. He was their family. They'd beaten Lucifer.
Now Sam was laughing, and Jack could feel it as he held onto him.
"Now that I took care of that sucker," Dean began, being his usual joking self, coming over to them, "I gotta take care of the two of you. What the hell did he do to you?" He sounded horrified as he looked them over.
Dean reached out for Sam, who flinched back.
Dean frowned, and at first it seemed to be from shock at such an action, but then his frown deepened, and his breathing halted.
Oh no, no, no!
What could be wrong with Dean?
Jack had just witnessed Sam getting hurt beyond belief, and now he'd have to witness Dean hurting? He couldn't take it. He just couldn't take it. He grunted, faltering back. Jack would've gone to him, but he had no energy with which to stand, and he wasn't sure Sam did either. Still, he started leaving his arms, so Jack tried sitting up as well.
"Dean?"
Dean was choking now, sounded like he was getting strangled, like he was hurting, like he was fighting.
Sam looked at Jack, panic in his eyes as he realized he couldn't do anything, that Jack couldn't do anything.
Back to his brother.
"Dean!"
Suddenly, Dean yelled, talking to someone they couldn't see, "We had a deal!"
Then, Dean slowly straightened and Jack looked him in the eye.
That wasn't Dean anymore.
"Michael," Sam whispered.
Jack's heart started racing.
Michael looked around, but it was like his gaze skipped over them, like they didn't matter. And Jack was human now, so he probably didn't.
"Thanks for the suit."
A fluttering noise, and Dean - Michael - was gone. They were both gone.
Sam let out a long breath, and then he broke. Jack had thought his dad had broken before, but now he didn't even cry or scream or do any of what Jack had expected. He pulled him closer and remained absolutely silent.
Jack could still feel himself bleeding, and Sam must've still been bleeding, and they were too weak to stand.
Dean was gone. His other dad was gone. His family was broken. Sam was hurt, and Jack never wanted to let go of him ever again.
So he prayed, he prayed to Castiel, hoping that he was alive, that he would hear them, that he would help them.
He needed him. Sam needed him.
Castiel, where are you?