A KILLING MOOD
When he wakes up the morning after Dean dumped him and Lucifer used his brain for a chew toy, Sam pretty much decides fuck it.
Fuck Dean. Fuck Lucifer. Fuck everything and everyone on the planet.
He doesn't know why he's spent so much of his life worrying about this stinking planet anyway. What the hell has it ever done for him?
It killed his mother, his father, Jessica, Dean. Oh, sure, Dean came back, but what good does that do him now? Sam's alone and will be – well, forever.
So – fuck it.
His only responsibility now, as he sees it, is to say no to Lucifer. Apart from that, he can do as he pleases.
Thing is, without Dean, not much pleases him, except the idea of killing Lucifer.
That would freaking please him.
He doesn't know how he's gonna do it, but Sam figures that after he slaughters his way up the demon food chain, he'll have learned a few new tricks.
After all, it's not like he has to worry about dying, is it?
His lips curve in a bitter, ugly smile.
Yes. Killing something – a whole lot of somethings – will definitely make him feel better.