Thanks go to SandraEngstrom2, AjPeanuts, and Aldrovanda for pre-reading, to SPN MUM for letting me know I was still missing things in the past/present tense changes, and to Gredelina1 for listening to me as I attempted to fix those mistakes.

Chapter Four

Sam sat beside Lucifer on the bench, looking out over the park. It was a beautiful day: the sun was shining, the grass was green, there were kids playing with their families all around them. It was perfect. If there was ever something to show Lucifer, it was this.

"Look over there," Sam said, pointing to a mother and her three children. The two eldest were playing ball while the youngest toddled around her mother's legs. "How can you deny that's good?"

Lucifer rolled his eyes and leaned back, folding his hands in his lap. He looked over at Sam and smirked. "The mother is a drunk. I can smell it from here."

Sam frowned and looked back to the mother and her children. "That's not the point."

"Then what is? She drove here drunk, with her kids, with no regard for their safety. I wouldn't call that a stellar example of humanity."

Sam shook his head and looked around. He pointed to another child, who was kneeling beside his injured friend. "There, look at that boy, look at the way he is helping the other."

"You are seeing the fallout of an argument, Sam. The child that is being oh-so-helpful now was the one to injure his friend in the first place. He pushed him over because he wouldn't share a toy. He was envious." Lucifer lay heavy emphasis on the word. "You remember envy, don't you, Sam? It is one of those marvelous sins my Father so deplores."

Sam raked a hand through his hair in frustration. The Devil seemed amused by this and he watched Sam carefully.

"All humans are dark at their core," Lucifer said. "My demons prove that. Do you know why I created them?"

Sam shrugged. "Because you were lonely?"

Lucifer threw back his head and laughed. "No, but one of your human psychiatrists would disagree. I created them to prove a point. My father asked me to bow before you humans because you were such a magnificent race, with your emotions and wishes and desires. I took one of his creations and tore it down to its base instincts, and you know what I found? Demons."

"Lilith," Sam said in a bitter tone. "She was your first, wasn't she?"

Lucifer looked nostalgic. "My first and greatest. She was a work of art. She proved my point. When I tore away the cushioning of humanity, there was a dark creature underneath. You remember her, don't you, Sam?"

Sam scowled at the ground, barely suppressing a shudder. He remembered Lilith all too well. He remembered the people she killed and the things she did. He also remembered killing her and starting this whole mess in the first place. If he had not been so blinded by his vendetta, none of this would be happening now. He wouldn't be sitting in a park with the Devil trying to persuade him of the good of humanity.

"I paid for it, of course. My Father sent my brother, my family after me. He sent Michael. He cast me into the cage for what my Father deemed as my sins."

Sam looked over at Lucifer feeling a slight twinge of sympathy. As much as he didn't want to, he could relate to the Devil's plight. Sam's own father had primed Dean to kill him, but thankfully, Dean wasn't a coward. Dean fought back and rebelled. He could only imagine the pain Lucifer felt having his brother turn on him.

"I'm sorry," Sam said before he could stop himself. "I know how it feels to have your family turn on you."

"Ah, yes. Your father instructed your brother to kill you," Lucifer said. "I remember."

Sam started. "How do you know about that?"

"Sam." The Devil smiled indulgently. "When are you going to learn? You belong to me. I know everything about you."

"I don't belong to anyone," Sam snapped.

Suddenly, Lucifer stiffened and his gaze snapped to his right. "We should leave."

"What?" Sam was taken off guard by the tense set of Lucifer's features; he looked worried. Sam wondered what the Devil could possibly have to worry about.

Just then, Sam heard it: a muffled gagging sound and a woman's frantic pleas. It was the woman Sam pointed out before, the one Lucifer said was a drunk. She was kneeling beside her daughter, patting her fruitlessly on the back.

"Cough it up, Sarah!" she said frantically.

Sam was in motion before he realized what was happening. He dropped to his knees beside the child and smacked her hard on the back.

The candy the child was choking on flew out of her mouth and landed inconsequentially on the dirt. The child drew a shaky breath and promptly burst into tears.

The mother threw her arms around her daughter and peppered her face with kisses. "Oh, Sarah!"

Forgotten in the maelstrom of emotional outpouring, Sam climbed to his feet and turned back to where Lucifer was standing staring at him, looking stunned. Shaking his head, Lucifer stepped toward Sam and reached out a hand to grip Sam's arm.

There was the disconcerting sensation of being in two places at once. Then Sam found himself standing on the threadbare carpet of their motel room.

"How did you do that?" Lucifer asked.

Sam frowned. "How did I stop a kid from choking to death? It's pretty basic first aid, Lucifer."

"No, I mean how did you manage to avert the child's path?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know what you mean."

Lucifer looked solemn. "That child was slated to die today, but you saved her. How did you do it?"

"I don't know, I just did."

Lucifer shook his head. "You are remarkable."

Sam shifted uncomfortably. "How did you know she was supposed to die?"

"I saw the Reaper. That's why I tried to get you away."

Sam gaped at him. "Why would you that? You're an angel. You could have saved her."

"I think you are missing one salient point here, Sam. I am the Devil. I don't help humans. I help myself."

"You helped me," Sam said. "You healed me."

"Because you are special," Lucifer said. "You are mine. We're meant to be together."

"You say that like it's supposed to mean something," Sam said in a tired voice. "When all it really means was that I am supposed to be your meat suit for the apocalypse."

Lucifer sighed and looked out of the grubby window. "No, Sam. It means so much more than that."

Sam threw himself down on the bed and curled onto his side. "I am going to sleep now."

"It's only three," Lucifer said, sounding bewildered. "You cannot be tired already."

Sam huffed. "I can't go out. I can't call my brother. I can't do anything but talk to you. I choose sleep."

"Very well," Lucifer said. "You sleep."

xXx

Lucifer watched Sam as his breaths fell into the soft sighs of sleep and he frowned. He would have liked to experience sleep. It looked like such a peaceful state. He hadn't felt peace since before he was cast out of heaven. Everything since then had been hard and cold, and more recently, confusing.

Before Sam came along, life was simple. He was working towards a solid goal: creating a paradise on earth for him alone to enjoy. Humans would be subjugated and cast aside.

His first thought when he saw the reaper was to get Sam away before he had to witness the child's death. He never thought to intervene, it wasn't in his nature, but Sam had, and that was remarkable. Sam had saved the small child and averted her death.

Sam was a human, Lucifer's vessel, nothing more than that, yet Lucifer found himself caring and it unnerved him. Physical healing was one thing, he needed his vessel healthy, but trying to avoid the reaping, that was something different. He had done that to protect Sam from emotional harm.

There was a knock at the door and Lucifer turned on his heel, brow furrowed. He walked over to the door and pulled it open. Meg, his lieutenant, was standing there greeting him with a smile. She was carrying a jug of demon blood in each hand. Lucifer stepped aside to let her pass. She walked over to the table and set the jugs down. Then she looked over at the bed and took a step back, quickly turning to face Lucifer.

"Is that Sam Winchester?" she asked boldly.

Lucifer scowled at her. "I don't believe that's any of your business."

Meg shut her mouth and looked away. "The blood is fresh," she said, motioning to where the jugs sat on the table.

Lucifer nodded and gestured toward the door. "That will be all, Meg."

Meg nodded, and with one last look at Sam, she left the room.

As Lucifer turned back to the bed, he saw Sam's eyes were open and he was looking directly at Lucifer. He looked furious.

"Is something wrong, Sam?" Lucifer asked.

"Meg," Sam spat, pushing himself up in the bed so he was leaning against the headboard.

"Ahh, yes, I imagine you are unhappy to see her again. How is Mr. Singer?"

Sam scowled. "He was just fine till your little friend racked up and stuck him in a wheelchair."

Lucifer tapped a finger against his chin. "I could heal him, you know. All it would take is a simple yes." There was no real expectation behind the words. He was merely playing his part.

Sam shook his head. "I know Bobby'd rather spend the rest of his life in that chair than have me say yes to you."

Lucifer shrugged. "So be it." He paused and looked thoughtful for a moment. "If it upsets you to see her, I will made sure she is replaced by another of my lieutenants."

Sam frowned. "Why do you care if I'm upset?"

The question stymied the Devil. He didn't know why he cared for Sam's feelings; he only knew that he did.

Sam looked around the room and his eyes fell on the jugs of blood on the table. "Is that what I think it is?" he asked.

Lucifer looked at the table, and he felt a pang of some unknown emotion. He did not recognize it, as he had never felt guilt before.

"It is demon blood," he confirmed.

"I'm not drinking that!" Sam said angrily.

"No one has asked you to," Lucifer said serenely. "It is for me. Nick is not my true vessel, and there are things that must be done to prevent him deteriorating." He gestured to his clear visage. "You don't want to imagine what I would look like without it."

"You're going to drink that?" Sam asked, looking nervous.

Lucifer understood. For Sam to watch him drinking the blood that he had only now learned to resist, would be like a human junkie watching someone else shooting up. He couldn't bring himself to put Sam through that. He picked up the jugs and made his way to the door. "I will retire to one of my lieutenant's rooms to do what must be done. I shall be back presently. Oh, Sam, someone will be watching."

He stepped out and closed the door behind him. He could hear Sam's sigh of relief through the door.

xXx

Sam stared at the closed door and wondered if Lucifer was done feeding yet. He wanted the blood gone. The thought of it being so close called to him like a siren song. He blamed it on the situation he found himself in, but in his heart, he knew he would struggle wherever he was. Once an addict, always an addict.

He forced thoughts of demon blood aside, and concentrated on his immediate predicament. He was trapped with Lucifer for the foreseeable future, possibly forever. He didn't doubt that Dean would try to save him, but he knew he would fail. Even with Castiel and Bobby's help, they were no match for the Devil.

The worst part of his captivity with the Devil, as far as Sam was concerned, was that he was separated from his brother. He couldn't talk to Dean or plan with him or, more importantly, fight alongside him. The war was continuing outside his motel room and there was nothing he could do about it. It was worse than that, though; not only was he benched, he was stuck with the creature leading it all, and there was nothing he could do.

Or maybe there was something.

Despite the fact he was a prisoner, he was in a position of power; he just didn't realize it before now. He was at Lucifer's right hand, beneath the dragon's wing. If he could just maneuver himself into a position of trust, he could learn it all: all Lucifer's plans, his goals and more importantly, how he was going to achieve them. Then, if he ever got away, he and Dean would be armed with all the information needed to defeat the Devil. Maybe even if he wasn't able to get away… If he could just get a hold of a weapon, a real weapon, he could do the job himself.

Sam's path was laid out before him, though he was loath to accept it. Lucifer said that Sam was more than his vessel. Sam needed to find out what he meant by that and how he could use it against him. His first task had to be letting go of the resentment he felt towards Lucifer for essentially kidnapping him.

He needed to be his friend.

xXx

When Lucifer came back into the room, he was holding a paper sack with the name Mindy's Diner on it. He held it out to Sam with an indulgent smile.

"Did you go buy this yourself?" Sam asked, thinking that the first step in this friendship thing had to be civil conversation.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "I am the Devil, Sam. I don't do food runs. I sent someone out to get it for you."

"It wasn't Meg was it?" Sam asked.

"Would it matter if it was?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't trust her not to spit in it."

Lucifer frowned. "It was a lesser demon by the name of Keith that fetched it for you. But even if it had been Meg, she would not have dared to spit in your food. She knows better than to incur my wrath like that."

Sam thought on that for a moment. Lucifer seemed genuinely offended at the idea and more than willing to vent his wrath on Meg. Sam filed that away for future reference. He owed Meg, and if he could steer Lucifer towards killing her, all's the better.

"Are you going to eat?" Lucifer asked.

Sam nodded and took the bag of food. He opened the Styrofoam package and found a salad with a separate container of dressing. It was exactly what he would have chosen for himself. He wondered how Lucifer knew so much about him, but he didn't ask. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer.

He forked up his food, watched the whole time by Lucifer. When he finished, Lucifer looked satisfied, as if Sam had passed some test.

"Do you need more?" Lucifer asked.

"No, that was fine," Sam said.

"You will have to prompt me for these things," Lucifer said. "I have watched humanity, but I admit I am not an expert." He smiled. "I am doing my best though."

Sam thought he sounded like the proud owner of a new puppy. He thought of making a comment about it, and then he remembered his newfound determination to be the Devil's friend. No more snarky comments for him.

Lucifer tapped his fingers on the table and looked thoughtful.

"Is something wrong?" Sam asked.

Lucifer rested his chin in his hand. "I don't know what to do with you now."

Sam raised an eyebrow, thinking back to the puppy thing again. "You don't need to do anything with me, Lucifer."

"I want to be a good host," Lucifer said earnestly, as if he couldn't see the gaping contradiction in his words. He was not a host; he was a hostage taker.

"I can amuse myself," Sam said.

"Really? What do you do?" Lucifer sounded genuinely interested, as if Sam's pastimes were of vital importance to him.

Sam ran a hand through his hair. Everything he usually did to amuse himself was inextricably linked with Dean. They would go to a ball game, or they would go see a concert on the rare downtime between hunts. Not since Stanford had Sam had time that was completely his own to do what he wanted with, and now that he had it, all he wanted to do was talk to his brother.

Sam sighed. "I guess I read or play cards. I don't know really. It's been a long time since I've had time to myself. There's hasn't been that much, you know?"

Lucifer's expression changed to something unreadable. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Sam shrugged. "It's all right."

"Do you want to play cards now?" Lucifer asked, tilting his head to the side.

Sam looked over at Lucifer, raising his brows. "You want to play cards with me?"

Lucifer frowned. "Why not?"

"You're the Devil." Sam laughed. "Won't you cheat?"

"I promise you, I won't cheat. It's the same as lying, and I said I wouldn't do that to you."

Sam nodded and then looked around. "We're going to need some cards."

Lucifer nodded and got to his feet. "I think there are some in the other room. I recall seeing a poker game a couple of nights ago."

"You're going to break into another room?" Sam asked, though why was surprised he didn't know. He was the Devil after all.

Lucifer sighed heavily. "Your low opinion of me hurts. The game I am referring to was taking place between my lieutenants."

"Demons play cards?"

"There are a lot of hours in the day to fill when you are evil," he said in a conversational tone. "It can't be all mutilating puppies and wreaking havoc in small towns. Sometimes they like to relax." He winked at Sam and left the room.

Unless Sam was very much mistaken, the Devil just made a joke. The thought made him huff out a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Lucifer came back with a pack of cards in hand and he tossed them to Sam. Sam shuffled the pack and dealt.

"Do you know how to play?" he asked.

Lucifer shook his head indulgently. "Sometimes your obtuseness amazes me, Sam," he said. "Do you really think I could have lived as long as I have without learning to play poker? Do you know how many souls have come my way through a game of cards? Addicts will do anything for a little luck, even made demon deals."

Sam raised his head from the cards. "People trade their souls for a good hand at poker?"

"Humans." Lucifer said it as if it explained everything, which to him, Sam guessed it did.

He set the stack back in the middle of the table. "We've got nothing to bet with."

Lucifer smiled and Sam felt a chill creep down his back. "We could bet a yes," he said.

Sam scowled. "That's not funny, Lucifer."

Lucifer looked unabashed. "It wasn't supposed to be."

Sam threw down his cards. "I am not risking the fate of humanity on a hand of cards." He pushed his chair away from the table and got to his feet. "You know, I'm not in the mood for cards anymore."

Lucifer looked genuinely disappointed. "Don't be like that, Sam."

"I'm not being like anything," Sam said. He had forgotten his mission to ingratiate himself with the Devil in his frustration. "I'm just not in the mood to pretend this is something other than what it is. I'm your hostage, nothing more."

Lucifer frowned and got to his feet. "Very well. I will leave you in peace." He crossed the room and clicked the door closed behind him.

Sam watched him go and his mind reeled. He felt a pang of something he couldn't quite place. It was like remorse, but he couldn't possibly be feeling remorse for hurting the Devil's feelings.

Could he?

xXx

Part of the editing process for this story is to change it from present tense to past. I am doing my best, but I am still missing things,. If you see something I've missed feel free to point it out in a review or a PM so I can fix it.

CoM x