4. Dean

"Hey bunkmate!" Lucifer cheerily woke Sam, "It's our 100th anniversary!" Sam could only manage a groan in response from his position tied down to the table.

"I'm gonna give you a present, Sammy!" The table was flipped to an upright position at the pull of a lever, and a television had been conjured against the wall. Sam looked at Lucifer in surprise. "What? You think I was able to make all these pop culture references because I browsed Wikipedia when I went topside?" Lucifer said with a sarcastic smile. "Come on, let's see what Dean's up to!"

The television flickered to life, and Dean (He's still alive?) was on the screen! He was making eggs with Ben, kissing Lisa on the cheek, waving them out the door with a smile on his face that Sam hadn't seen since before Dean went to Hell so very, very long ago. As soon as Lisa's car was out of sight, though, his expression turned – Sam would have called it frowning except that Dean just looked too tired to actually frown. He watched as Dean pulled a bottle of whiskey out from under the couch (He has a secret stash? Not good!) and drained a few shots' worth out of it in one go (Definitely not good). After he drank half the bottle, Dean started crying freely and got off the couch to go to the garage. He pulled on John's old leather jacket, uncovered the Impala, and slid into the driver's seat, but didn't turn the ignition (Thank God).

Instead, Dean started talking. To Sam.

"Hey, Sammy. I don't know if you can hear me, or if that makes it worse, or if that'll make this easier to say – " Dean's voice hitched, "but I gotta talk to you, man. It's been a whole year up here, and I know it's been longer for you. I didn't want to get to today, but you can't stop time, yanno? We've definitely had our share of trying." A broken-sounding chuckle made Sam wince, but he didn't dare make a sound for fear he would miss a word. Dean continued, "I think last time, you got the better end of the deal. Not just 'cause I was the one who went to Hell, but after I went, you had a job to do and you buckled down and did it and you let that be your lifeline, even if it did get fucked up along the way. But you made me promise to get out, so I did, and Lisa and Ben are great, but being here for them isn't doing anything for you. I'm just sitting here in my apple pie, perfect life while you're rotting in the Cage, and it's not-" Dean's voice broke again, and he took another long pull from the bottle. "It's not fair. I broke the first seal, I started the apocalypse, I was supposed to end it, not you. I shouldn't have let you jump, Sam, I should have done it myself, or found another way. I should be in that Cage, not you…"

Sam did not like where this was going. Yes, Dean had broken the first seal, but that was the whole point of having to break 66 of them – if one fell apart, you still had plenty more to hold the lid in place! It was Sam's own work that really started the apocalypse, and he had been so sure that Dean knew that until now.

Meanwhile, Dean had gotten out of the driver's seat and was rummaging through the guns in the hidden bottom of the trunk. "I should be the one in Hell, Sammy," he said again as he pulled Sam's own Taurus from the stash. "But don't worry, I'll fix it now," he pointed the barrel under his chin and cast a furtive look around the garage in case Lisa or Ben had come back unexpectedly. "I'm coming, Sammy," Dean whispered, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Sam was unable to contain his horror anymore. His dying wish had been for Dean to be happy and safe, but instead he'd guilted his bother into committing suicide. And Dean would never come for him – Yes, he'd be back in Hell, but the Cage was separate and he'd never be able to get in. Dean had just damned himself all over again under the false hope that he'd see his brother, and Sam had driven him to it.

"Do you see what you do, Sam?" Lucifer gleefully whispered in his ear. "You destroy everything you love. It's in your nature – and you know what that means."

Sam turned to him. "What does it mean?" he asked with trepidation.

"It means you're a monster, Sam. And monsters deserve to rot in Hell."

Sam felt his body be eaten alive by bugs and worms. His torture resumed.