AN: I've not said this yet, but thanks to all anonymous reviewers, since I can't personally message you back. And if I have missed anyone in thanking them for reviews, I deeply apologise. Thanks again, guys!

Consecrated ground was the most difficult thing to find, but once the place had been selected, Sam was positive that the task would be completed.

The church was small. Sort of ironic how something so seemingly insignificant and broken down could harbor such an amazing feat. In that instance, it was kind of like Sam, wasn't it? His past had left him weary, lonely, but he'd made it this far. Even with Lucifer constantly screaming in his ear, Sam wasn't going to give in. Not just yet.

After Dean was all prepped and ready to be healed, unconscious and still bound to the Devil's trap chair, Sam realised that the consecrated ground really wasn't the most trying ingredient.

It was the purified blood.

Throughout his whole life, blood had always been Sam's burden. At six months old, Sam was tainted, unclean. Sure, he didn't have a choice in the matter, but he had chosen to go behind Dean's back and drink the blood that damned him in the first place. Could he even be purified after that? Sure, God can forgive a lot, but was this just too much to ask?

Disregarding his doubt, Sam stepped into the church's confession booth. It was quiet; Sam had asked Cas and Kevin to let him handle this alone, so the only sounds were the creaking of the wooden bench, and Dean's steady breathing.

Sam took a deep breath. "If anyone's still listening up there, here goes." Where does he even start? "I've messed up a lot. I've got a lot of people hurt, even killed... But that's not what keeps me up at night." Sam closed his eyes, and exhaled again. "It's all the times I've let my brother down. All my life he's been there for me, but I-... Saying I've disappointed doesn't even come close to covering it.

"Demon blood, saying yes, not protecting him in Hell, that's not even scratching the surface of all I've done to him. He deserved so much better. If I hadn't been born, he'd have a mom, a dad." Sam chuckled humourlessly. "I think my greatest sin is existing. I know what I am to everyone around me; I'm a freak, a danger, a burden..." He shook his head, keeping his eyes cast downward. "So now..." He huffed once more, nodding with determination. "Now I'm gonna make things right."

"That is so sweet." That voice wasn't Dean's, but it was just as terrifyingly recognizable; Lucifer's. "You really think you're gonna fix everything. That's just adorable, Sammy."

There wasn't much point in ignoring him, so Sam was gonna stand up for himself this time. "I'm saving my brother. You can't stop me. You don't control me anymore.'

Lucifer grinned. "Don't I though?" He wriggled a finger at the floor by Sam's feet. Small embers started glowing on the wood, a fire threatening to ignite. "Dance, Sammy."

As much as he hated playing Lucifer's game, Sam's feet frantically stomped on the ground to extinguish the flames before they could leap to life. Lucifer knew Sam could never choke down his fear of fire. Such a simple trick, but it worked. It always worked.

"You're still my little bitch, Sammy. Now, and forever."

"Doesn't matter." Sam argued, voice trembling only slightly. "No matter what you do to me, I'm not giving up."

"Even if I do this?"

Sam suddenly felt himself be shoved into the back of the confession booth, and the feeling of Lucifer's icy fingers plunging through his stomach shortly followed.

"You're never gonna get rid of me." Lucifer's voice was calm, but fury was so very, very blatant, even over the sounds of Sam's panicked and pained gasps. "Cuz you and I, we're just so- close." His fingers twisted and tugged things inside of Sam, things that should never be touched, and Sam couldn't help but whimper. "You think letting Dean down is a sin? No, no, no, Sammy, you've done far worse. God's made a special place for those in Hell who've danced with the Devil. Granted, you were in that special little place, but you skipped out on your eternal punishment." He shrugged nonchalantly. "Kinda missed the whole point of it being 'eternal.'"

"S-st-stop." Sam could pretend that he was telling himself to stop acknowledging Lucifer's presence, but they both knew what he really wanted; for the pain to cease.

But it didn't stop. It never did, it never did, oh, God, it never will! "Uh-uh, buddy. Think all this is gonna get you forgiven? Wrong. You wanna pay for your sins? Then hold still."

Agony so deep and consuming swallowed Sam again and again, never-ending, over and over. Hands so cold going places so dark; pain so real filling every fibre in his body. Lucifer's mocking and gleeful laughter mixing into the cacophony of Sam's cries. Maybe he was only screaming in his mind.

His mind, his mind... His imagination, his illusion, his hallucination. Sam closed his eyes.

"That's all this is. A hallucination. He isn't there, you watched him as you left the Cage. He isn't out, he's never getting out, he isn't here now, he isn't here, he isn't real!"

He opened his eyes, and he was alone. Blood wasn't leaking down every inch of him, he wasn't in pain; but most importantly, he was alone.

With a shaky breath, Sam pushed the door to the confession booth open, and he stepped out.

"Keep it together, you're almost there." He instructed himself. He went closer to Dean, but stayed outside of the Devils' Trap. He wasn't an idiot. "Dean." This was it. "C'mon, I know you're awake. You are my brother."

Black eyes flicked open at him. Dean cracked his neck, rolling it around on his shoulders. "Was worth a shot." The eyes returned to their normal colour. "What's with the change of scenery?"

Sam didn't answer. What would be the point? Dean would figure it out pretty soon anyway. Wordlessly, Sam slipped a needle into his arm, and began extracting his blood. His purified blood. After so many tainted years, his finally clean blood.

Almost seeming to sense that something bad was coming, Dean squirmed for just a moment. "What you got there, Sammy?"

Quick as a whip, Sam plunged the needle into Dean's neck, wincing in sympathy at his surprised yell.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean growled. "The hell was that?"

Again, Sam left him wondering, silently noting the time.

"One down, seven to go."

"Hey, Cas?" Kevin piped up from his desk, needing a break from translating the smaller portions of the tablet. This Metatron guy had some really crappy penmanship. Scribe-manship? Whatever, it gave Kevin a headache.

"Yes, Kevin?"

His fingers tapped anxiously on the table. "Once Sam finished the trials..." He lifted up his eyes, hope shimmering in them. "Do I get to go home?"

Castiel was unsure how to answer. "I-I don't think I know what to tell you for sure, but I would advise against it. Sam has tried to leave this life before, but it has not ended well for him."

"This isn't me though. I'm not cut out for this life."

"That does not really matter in this case. Whether you are ready for it or not, something will always come for you."

"'Something' being demons? They won't be around anymore after this. I want my life back, Cas."

"But there are other dangers. Other monsters, angels-" He stopped abruptly, eyes widening as he looked away, deep in thought.

"What? What is it?"

"Angels."

"What about angels?"

"If there is a demon tablet, there must be one for angels. And if the demon tablet holds the key to closing Hell's gates, what might the angel tablet contain?"

"You're using a lot of if's there, Cas. You don't even know where the tablet is, do you?"

"No, but there is someone who does."

"Who?"

"Metatron. The angel who wrote the tablets in the first place. He's been in hiding for centuries now. But he must know something about its location." He stood up. "I need to find him."

"Whoa, hang on, seriously? You're just gonna- get up and leave?"

"You can call me if you need me."

"Yeah, but-" The sound of flapping wings cut him off. At least Castiel was feeling well enough to fly, but Kevin still huffed. "Okay, bye."

There had to be something. These trials couldn't be completely consequence free, and Kevin was determined to find out exactly what those consequences would be.

Now that Castiel had gone off to find Metatron, Kevin should make him deliver a big punch in the face for writing such crappy notes. And seriously, Metatron? What a stupid name. Had to be a stupid angel.

But, Cas was sure that he'd know something about the tablet. And maybe that means that he'd know about the after effects of the trials. Because despite how forcefully Kevin was hurled into this life, Sam had taken care of him, ignoring all his whining and protesting.

Kevin was an only child, but he knew how big brothers were supposed to act; and that was exactly how Sam was. He was straight with Kevin, told him how it was, but he was still highly protective with him too. Sam had thrown himself into the line of fire time and time again to keep Kevin safe, and Kevin knew it wasn't just because he was a prophet. Sam truly cared about him, and Kevin felt the same way; he really didn't want anything bad to happen to Sam.

Taking into account all the things he'd seen in just the course of a few weeks, that was probably wishful thinking. But it didn't hurt to hope.

AN: If there's still something you'd like to see before the end of this story, please let me know. I can't guarantee that it'll show up, but hearing what you guys want always helps my writing. Now that my busy schedule will be clear after Saturday, updates shouldn't be so sparse. I will see y'all soon!