It started out soft. Just a light chuckle… but Sam began to laugh more and more, and the growling of the hellhounds began to stop, even the sound of their footsteps dissipated. For the longest moment, Dean was left hearing only his brother's jeering laugh. It didn't sound like Sam. Rather, it sounded maniacal. Evil.

Still pinned down by the hellhound, Dean could only watch as Sam pulled himself to his feet, and sauntered over to him. He ran his hands through his hair, grinning. He took the knife off his belt and spun it around in his fingers. The wound on his leg began to close up, leaving only a blood stained patch on his torn jeans.

"Dean, Dean, Dean," Sam laughed again and gazed down with cold eyes at his brother, "How was my acting? I think I played a good Sam, what do you think?"

Dean clenched his fists, pulling against the hellhounds hold which elicited a growl from above him.

He glared at what looked like his brother, "What did you do with him? Who are you!?"

"Oh haven't you figured that out yet Dean? Haven't you realized just what this cemetery is?" The grin on Sam's face widened until he was practically beaming, "I'm ba-ack!"

The blood drained from Dean's face. It couldn't be. This was all a nightmare.

It couldn't be Lucifer.

Dean hoping against hope that it wasn't true, said, "Lucifer…?"

"DING DING DING! That's right! I'm back, Dean, and better than ever!"

"S-Sam wouldn't have let you back into his body."

"Let's just say I was persuasive." He knelt down beside Dean, smiling, "Now, Dean, I've finally gotten to the two people I hate more than anything. You," Still holding the knife he let it light touch Dean's forehead, "And Sam."

The hellhound holding Dean whined, and Lucifer pat its head, "No, you're not killing him. Yet. I'm going to have a bit of fun first." Dean heard another hellhound moving behind him, its footsteps right by his ear.

Lucifer lifted his knife, and then touched his fingers to Dean's temple.

The moment he did, Dean felt something brush against the top of his head. His last coherent thought before he blacked out was that a hellhound was going to claw out his skull.

The feeling of something cold on his wrists woke him. At first a slight smile appeared on his face, but then as he tugged his hands downward, he opened his eyes, the smile immediately fading. He recalled Lucifer and the hellhounds, and realized none of it was a dream.

Wherever he was, it was dark. He heard the clanking of chains when he tried to move his hands or feet. There was no light, save for a tiny window to his left. The smallest amount of daylight poured into the room, illuminating his brother, sitting across from him, sharpening his knife.

Dean blinked, staring at him, about to ask what was going on—

"Lucifer," He growled.

"Dean! Glad you're awake, you were about to miss the big show!" Lucifer jumped to his feet, "God, it's been way too long since I've been able to talk to you like this, Dean. When was the last time…? Oh right. When you threw me into hell."

"Let my brother go, Lucifer."

"OH! How very blunt of you. Hmm let me think… how about… no?" Lucifer laughed and ran his fingers through his long hair, "I've missed this body. It's even better than I remembered in fact. Has Sam been working out?"

Dean took a shaky breath, trying to not let any of his words get to him.

"Well, you see Dean, moving right along… I have a very particular punishment for you." Lucifer moved closer, and he gripped the blade of his knife between two fingers, "You think you can withstand anything, I'll bet..."

Dean scowled at him, "That's right."

Lucifer grinned, "But do you think little Sammy can?"

"What… what are you talking about?" Dean's heartbeat immediately quickened. What more could the angel in front of him do- he'd already taken Sam's body.

It fully dawned on him at that moment. Lucifer was in Sam's body again. He couldn't protect his little brother. He couldn't save him. And now, Satan stood before him, his brother buried, lost, and he couldn't even do anything about it. Lucifer was going to kill him and there wasn't anything he could do. He was going to die here.

"Oh, come on Dean-o! He's still ticking away inside here. He can see you, you know… trapped like a rodent, ready to be killed. Oh if you could just hear him!" Lucifer beamed, "Oh wait."

He snapped his fingers, and the sound echoed through the room. Lucifer blinked, looking at Dean, anxiously.

"Dean! Dean, please, listen," Came his brother's voice, "I'll take over like last time, okay!? I'll save us, I'll—"

Lucifer cleared his throat.

"Hm, enough of that for now… But let's just say, Sam has a front-row seat and I fully intend to make the most of that fact." He repositioned the blade in his hands and moved closer to Dean, putting it up to his throat.

"You'd make a pretty corpse." Lucifer cut lightly just below Dean's jawline, drawing a little smiley face. Blood dripped down his neck, staining his shirt collar.

Dean gathered up what saliva he could and then spat in Lucifer's face, "Fuck off."

Lucifer wiped the spit off his cheek and sneered, "Is that what you'd really want? Me, leave. Me in Sammy's precious little body, leave. I wouldn't come back, you know. You'd never find me or Sam again." He smirked.

Dean stared at him, but then found he couldn't look at him anymore. At his brother's face. Lucifer chortled when he saw that.

"What, can't look at little Sammy? How sad. That hurt him, you know. Hurt him right here," Lucifer put his hand to his heart with a pout, "But you know what'll hurt more…? Having him cut slowly into you… carving out his brother's life."

Lucifer smiled, and then slashed across Dean's chest. Dean tried not to yell out in pain as the blade cut into him. Lucifer watched his expression closely, and then took out a lighter from Sam's pocket.

"You see Dean, this is going to take a while, so I can't have you too hurt…" He glanced at the blood now seeping through his shirt, and lit the lighter beneath his blade, "So here's a favour- I'll cauterize the wound."

Dean instead of looking at Lucifer, looked around the room. He still could hardly see anything, but he managed to spot a staircase on the far side. If- if he somehow managed to escape, he could use those stairs, and get to freedom—

This time Dean did scream. The red hot blade seared his wounds closed, burning his chest in the process.

Just from the pain, Dean could tell this would scar.

A/N Sorry not sorry. Make sure to leave a review. :P