AN: Long author's note ahead. So I added a note on my profile that stories may not be as frequent from me as they used to be, but hey, that's what happens in college. I'm still always taking requests and love chatting with y'all, I might just be less active as an author. Aside from this story, obviously. Now, in regards to this fic, this is something I've felt compelled to write for a very long time. Supernatural undoubtedly has its flaws, as done any show that's been on the air for so long, but one that I can't ever let myself look past is in season seven when Sam is hallucinating Lucifer, and Dean teaches him that pain is a good coping method for it. The show had a great opportunity to discuss the dangers of self-harm, but that never happens. All we see as viewers is Sam hurting himself and it actually solves his problems. So, I wrote this fic to address the issues that the show basically ignored promptly after creating them. That said, the majority of this fic takes place from Sam's perspective, and I want to be clear, his mindset is not a healthy one. By the end of this story Sam realises his mistakes, so do not let the first tone of this story influence you in any way. As you can probably guess, this fic has quite a few-
Warnings: Self-harm, explicit and implicit torture, along with references to rape and non-consensual activities. Another thing I hated in the show was completely glossing over how brutalised Sam was in the Cage in every way imaginable, and the Lucifer in this story doesn't hold any punches about reminding Sam what he did to him. Nothing in that respect is ever explicit, but that doesn't mean it doesn't warrant a warning. Proceed with caution, because this is definitely the hardest and probably most serious fic I've ever written.
It was always the silence that gave Sam away. Whether it was the silence after Dean would say his name to try and snap him out of a hallucination, or the small second of silence after Dean would ask him if he was alright, the silence always told Dean what Sam wouldn't. It could be boiled down to one pretty simple message though.
Sam wasn't okay.
Sometimes digging his thumb into his palm until it bled didn't always make the Devil go away. So Sam would try other scars. Old bullet wounds, remnants of the tortures he'd suffered on Earth, on Earth, Sam, you're on Earth, always on Earth, and for a while, that worked.
Until it didn't. No amount of clawing his nails into old scars would make Lucifer stop blowing in Sam's ear just to annoy him, no matter how hard he'd press his fingers Lucifer never put away the freaking guitar so he could (very poorly) serenade Sam.
So then- Sam started getting reckless.
If they were on a hunt, Dean might yell, "Sam, look out!" But Sam wouldn't look out, so he'd end up being hurled into a tree, or pinned up against the wall in some supernatural chokehold. Or maybe he'd jump out of the way of something a second later than he normally would, earning himself a bruise or another cut that he could eventually dig into. Sam liked it the most when that happened. Best of all, Dean hadn't seemed to have caught on. Or even if he did, he didn't say anything about it. Besides, Dean was the one who had shown him that pain made Lucifer leave him alone, he couldn't get mad at Sam for taking his advice. Except for the day Sam took that advice too far…
"I told you, Dean, I'm fine." Sam insisted for what must have been the dozenth time that day.
"Sam, nearly every damn hunt we've been on lately has ended up with you getting hurt. Your reflexes have been hell, and I don't need Lucifer screaming in your ear if I'm trying to tell you to duck."
"It's not Lucifer. I'm just-"
"Whatever you are it isn't ready for hunting. You need a break."
"I don't-"
"This isn't up for discussion." Dean cut him off. "We're taking some time off."
"What about the Leviathans?" Sam pointed out. "Those need to be taken care of as soon as possible. We've never seen anything like them before, and still have no idea how to stop them, so we-"
"So we need to be careful and have our heads in the right place, or we're gonna get our asses kicked out there." Dean said, and then he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face to calm down. "I need you sharp out there, Sammy. If I keep letting you hunt like this and you get real hurt, or worse… I wouldn't be able to forgive myself."
Even though Sam's stomach clenched in fear at the thought of going so long without feeling some kind of pain, he couldn't deny that Dean had a point. Not to mention that if his recklessness got Dean hurt instead of him, then it would never be worth making Lucifer go away. He could deal with the Devil relentlessly flicking the back of his head as long as he had Dean.
"Alright." Sam finally conceded.
Dean visibly relaxed at Sam's acceptance, albeit hesitant acceptance. "Thank you. Besides, you could use some more time to sleep,"
"I sleep plenty."
"No, you wait until you think I'm asleep, and then you sneak out and drink yourself half to death and come back before I wake up."
Sam dropped eye contact at that, embarrassed that one of his many secrets had been discovered. At least it wasn't the secret.
"You gotta stop hiding things from me, Sam. I can't help you with anything if you don't talk to me."
That could have been Sam's chance. His opportunity to open up to Dean about it, about everything. But- why be honest when you could be a Winchester?
"I'm sorry, Dean. It won't happen again."
"That it though? Nothing else I should know about?" "C'mon, Sammy, tell me the truth." Dean internally pleaded.
"Yeah, that's it."
Dean then figured that he had pushed Sam's limits enough for one day. He'd gotten Sam to take a break. He could talk to Sam about his self-destructive and borderline suicidal tendencies later. For now though, he decided that they both needed their rest. And he'd make damn sure Sam actually slept this time.
"This place looks good as any." Dean said as he pulled into the lot of their latest motel. They checked in, grabbed some fresh clothes, but for once, they left their weapons behind. Besides the usual gun Dean kept under his pillow, and the demon killing knife anyway. They may not be planning to hunt any monsters, but that didn't mean that the monsters wouldn't try to hunt them.
Each of the brothers made their way into their beds, Dean's being the closest to the door, as usual.
"Night, Sammy."
"Night, Dean."
Before Sam could so much as close his eyes, he heard a laugh. His laugh.
"Oh, that's adorable. You talking like you're gonna be falling asleep tonight. Seriously, you are just too cute sometimes."
Sam simply clenched his jaw in response. He couldn't possibly try to talk to Lucifer with Dean barely five feet away from him.
"Are you really ignoring me again?" Lucifer pouted. "Oh, wait. Is this about Dean? You worried he'd feel a little left out? Third wheel kind of thing? He could always join in on our games too." Lucifer started moving over to Dean, and that was what set Sam off.
"Don't." Sam warned in a barely audible whisper.
"Aww, there's my Sammy!" Seemingly satisfied with Sam's reaction, Lucifer sat himself down on Sam's bed. Far, far too close.
Wanting nothing more than to dart up and get the hell out of that way too small room, but knowing that Dean would stop him and ask what was wrong, Sam could only stiffen in horror in response to the chill spreading throughout his body. This scenario felt too familiar. Sam trapped, Lucifer wrongly and intimately close, cold creeping through him…
"I'll make you a deal." Lucifer said. "I'll let you sleep, if-" Sam nearly hurled when Lucifer rested his hand just above Sam's knee. "You be the big spoon tonight."
Breaking point reached, Sam shot up out of his bed and hurried to the bathroom. It didn't go unnoticed.
"Sam?" Dean asked.
"Just using the bathroom, Dean." Sam was grateful that he managed to keep the terror from slipping through his voice. He splashed almost painfully warm water on his face. He'd had enough cold for one night. Hell, a lifetime. He welcomed the brief burn, relief momentarily flooding him as he focused on this Earthly pain. Not his memories, not the imaginary cold, but the real, raw, and intentional pain. He was in control of it, not Lucifer.
"Big brother's not gonna sleep until you do, and you're not going to unless you do what I tell you." Lucifer cooed.
"Use the pain, Sam. Show that you're in charge of your own mind."
Sam lifted his shirt to reveal the wound from their most recent hunt, about a two-inch-long gash left from a knife that a shifter had grazed him with. Dean had done a good job of stitching him up, so it'd almost be shame to undo his hard work. He briefly paused, wondering if this was worth it. But then Lucifer wrapping his arms around Sam from behind and starting to nibble on his ear was motivation enough for Sam to unapologetically jam a finger into the wound, abruptly splitting a few of the stitches. The pain temporarily caused the icy breath at the back of his neck to vanish, but it all too quickly returned.
"Trying to get rid of me?" Lucifer asked with a pout. "You're hurting my feelings, bunk-buddy."
The hauntingly familiar nickname pushed Sam even further beyond his breaking point, so he forced his unsteady hand to probe deeper into his wound, barely managing to suppress a shout, but he was lucky enough for only a small gasp to slip past instead. He bit his lip to ground himself, panting harshly through his nose. He had closed his eyes at the bout pain, breathing unsteadily as he internally pleaded for Lucifer to be gone when he opened them again. He waited for several more seconds, and then opened his eyes.
He was alone.
Sam sighed a breath of pure gratitude. He then opened the cabinet and retrieved their make-shift medical kit to mend his busted stitches. Just before he started the first motion however, there was a pounding at the door, causing him to jump.
"Sammy? You alright in there?"
Dammit, he'd been in here suspiciously long, so now Dean was right outside the door! What should he do, what should he do?!
"I uh-" Sam took a deep breath to calm himself down. "I dropped something and when I bent over to pick it up I popped some of my stitches."
"What?! Alright, let me in, I'll fix it."
Exhaling in satisfaction that Dean had bought the lie, he quickly wiped the blood from his hands and opened the door. Dean immediately started accessing the injury, and then huffed.
"Why didn't you come get me?" Dean asked as he brought the kit out into the room, and silently instructed Sam to sit down on his bed.
"I didn't want to wake you up. I could've handled it myself."
"Bull." Dean said. "You know you'd be pissed if I tried to pull that kinda crap on you if I was hurt." Dean rethreaded the stitch, and got into position. "Get ready, this will probably hurt."
"Good." Was Sam's instinctive thought. He barely even braced himself for the first stitch, hell, he practically welcomed the pain when it came. "Real pain. Lucifer wouldn't let you imagine Dean patching up a wound. You know this pain, you're the one controlling this. You're in charge of your own mind. Real, Sam, this is real…"
"What the hell, Sam?"
Oh, God, what did he find? "What?" Sam asked innocently.
"All the rest of these injuries look like crap. How many other times have your stitches popped without you telling me?"
"They weren't bad enough that I needed help."
"You been picking at them or something?"
Did-did Dean know? No, of course he didn't know. He could never know. "No, it happens when I'm sleeping. I guess I've been moving a lot in my sleep." That much wasn't a lie. When he could actually manage to fall asleep, he was plagued with nothing but horrific nightmares and flashbacks of the Cage.
Luckily Dean seemed to accept the answer. "Alright. But you shouldn't be trying to take care of these by yourself. You tell me if this happens again, got it?"
"Got it."
"Good. Alright, here comes the whiskey." Dean warned before gently splashing the liquid over Sam's wound. He winced at Sam's pained grunt, but luckily it didn't seem to hurt for long. "Okay, you're done. You get some sleep now, hear me?"
"Yes, Dean." Sam said, and he really meant it. Lucifer hadn't shown up since all of this had gone down, so Sam truly believed that he could finally get some rest. He waited for Dean to settle down in his bed before Sam went to his and did the same. He opted to lay down on his bad side, hoping that the pressure on his injury would keep Lucifer out of his dreams as well. After what felt like an eternity, Sam Winchester closed his eyes, and fell asleep.
AN: This fic does not get any kinder from here until the third chapter. The next chapter is fully written out, I simply need to transfer it over from my notebook to my laptop, so hopefully I won't keep you all waiting too long for chapter two. Until then, I hope you will be held over by this-
Sneak Peek: "(Sam) knew that these tortures weren't real, but that didn't make them hurt any less."
I fully understand how intense this story is, it's taking a huge toll on me as well, so if you truly don't feel comfortable continuing then you are by no means obligated to do so. If you have anything you would like to say about the story thus far though, please feel free to review, or if you just need someone to talk to about the issues addressed in this fic, my inbox is always open. Thank you for taking the time to read, and I will see you all again soon.