So, Sambrady rights! I just think Sambrady is interesting.

Also, human Sam uses he/him, demon!Sam uses they/them.

~

"You're brother is going to Hell," whispered Belphegor. "That mark tainted Dean forever. But I'll make you a deal. Lets say you meet alone by the flower shop in roughly five minutes, and we'll discuss arrangements to get your brother in Heaven."

"And why would I trust the demon possessing my son?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at Jack's corpse. It was gross, seeing that filthy demon possessing Jack.

"C'mon Sammy, you're better than this. We both know you're smart, and you already know what I'm telling you is true. You know I'm not lying to you, don't you, honey?" Belphegor smiled at Sam sweetly. "And while you're at it, keep that mopey angel away from me."

Sam had always wondered if the mark was more... evil than what he'd previously thought. He'd wondered if there were more deadly consequences that would come along later in life to smack them all in the face. If the Mark could hurt Gadreel, a deadly, rogue angel assassin turned friend, it was more than capable of damaging Dean internally. Souls were much easier to damage than angels were, or so the lore had said. Was it possible that Dean was damned to Hell?

Sam couldn't let Dean go to Hell. Dean wasn't fit to go to Hell again, and Sam refused to sit by and do nothing when he could change Dean's eternal outcome. Sam had already let Dean down several times, and he refused to let himself purposefully do it again, especially when the fix was right there. Sam definitely owed Dean for leaving him in Purgatory, and he may as well start somewhere. Freeing Dean of the Mark had originally been Sam's plan for redemption, and Sam apparently hadn't follow through correctly on that account either.

"Hey Dean, I'm going to go and look for Belphegor. He's been gone for a while, and I'm starting to get suspicious," said Sam, hoping that Dean bought his crappy alibi.

Dean waved him away, seemingly more interested in arguing with Castiel. He was- yet again- going on about how many times that Castiel had let him down and disappointed. Sam shuffled away quickly before Dean whirled around and started reminding Sam of how he'd let down Dean over the years. He didn't want to be reminded of his failures at the moment or ever again, really.

Belphegor was leaning against the wall when Sam walked over. Belphegor smiled at Sam, almost like Sam was a good friend of his. "Hello there Sammy. Let us begin to commence our conversation about Dean and your eternal fate, you pretty boy."

"Am I supposed to be offended?" asked Sam.

Belphegor looked over Sam, wondering why he would think that. Dark chocolate hair curled slightly at the ends, with pieces falling in his face. Sam would brush the pieces of hair back every once in a while, blushing subconsciously when he did that. His face was much too stern and cross though, and Belphegor thought he might look more appealing if he smiled more, although Sam didn't live to impress him- not yet, anyways. Sam was also helped by the fact that he was tall, fairly well muscled, and rather young. Belphegor liked tall, dark haired people. Of course, Belphegor had hit on Dean and gotten nowheres, and Sam was his second choice.

"No." Belphegor looked him over once more. "I've seen hundreds of people Sammy, and I think that you're pretty. Pretty isn't derogatory."

"You're right," said Sam quietly. "But usually, when it's directed at me, it's not a compliment."

"That's just sad," commented Belphegor. "Some people have no taste. Of course, there are women that only find women attractive, but even they can tell a handsome guy when they see one."

"How exactly can you see me?" asked Sam, narrowing his eyes at the demon.

"Well, that's just rude," Belphegor said. "The assumption that I need physical eyes to see is amusing. But, little boy king, let's talk about Deano."

"Go on." Sam shot the demon a pointed look, scowling the entire time.

"Hmm... what if you take his place?" At seeing Sam's look, Belphegor stood up more straight (his best attempt at being anything straight). "I'll make you a deal. Dean gets into Heaven, and you go to Hell. I'll even through in a bonus: you can live as long as Dean lives. The day Dean dies, you can die a day later. I get that need to, y'know, throw a quick funeral and say some goodbyes."

"What will you do to me? What will make me?" inquired Sam curiously.

Belphegor smiled at the clever human. "Good question. I'm not going to make you anything, aside from a demon. The rest is up to you. If you chose to deal souls, that's your choice. You want to be a royal advisor? You put in the work. You want to rule? Go do it by yourself. Now, I'll always have positions open for lovers."

"Can I ask why you want me to take this deal so badly?" asked Sam. "Well, actually, I just did. Why do you want me to make this deal so badly?"

Belphegor looked around quickly, checking for Dean or the weeping angel. "You're powerful Sam. You are destined for Hell, not your brother. You reek of Hell, and I know you won't let Dean go to Hell. And deep down, both of us know that you never really left Hell behind.

"That little one, Adamm or Adrian or whatever his name is, never really left your thoughts. You can still hear him screaming sometimes, can't you? You can still hear Micheal telling him to stay out of Lucifer's way, right? You still think about the fact that Dean should have saved the child and not you daily. You were never meant to leave, and I think you know that."

"How do you know so much about me?" Sam asked Belphegor.

"I've been keeping tabs on you since you were a mere infant. You were destined to be my ruler, so I wanted to make sure that you lived long enough to see your eighteenth birthday. I mean, you didn't think you got into Stanford on your own, did you?" Belphegor gave Sam a smirk.

"Are you telling that the only reason I got in was because of a demon that was invested in my education?"

Belphegor shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head at Sam. "Partially. We planned out a love life for you and everything, but Brady just couldn't resist having you met Jess. He was supposed to be the one, my darling Sam. Me- all of the demons, really- cared for you Sam. We wanted you to have everything."

"What was bad about Jess? Why couldn't I live with Jess?" asked Sam.

"For the same reason you couldn't stay with Amelia. You weren't meant to be. Jessica was one of Lilith's demons, and we needed you to be with one of ours.

"We need you Sam, and that's why I'm being truthful. You are one of us, and you know it! Don't deny you are. Even if you can speak the angel language, you know you aren't meant for Heaven. Why did you think Lucifer and Gadreel were attracted to you in the first place?" Belphegor gave Sam a pointed looked- at least Sam thought he was. It was probably hard to do without eyes.

"Well, I always just thought I was their type honestly," Sam replied in a casual tone.

"Ah yes, who wouldn't be interested the tax fraud, serial killing, Boy King of Hell that comes with the entire set of trauma and daddy issues?" Belphegor smiled. "They were interested in you because you're like them. You rebelled against your father and left home, just like Lucifer. You opened the gates that Lucifer out into the world, just like Gadreel did in Eden."

"So I was their type?"

Belphegor groaned. "Yes or no to the deal."

"Yes, I'll take it," whispered Sam, looking down at the ground shamefully.

Belphegor thought it was adorable. The guy had taken up a demon as a consort and kissed her a lot, but this got him all shy and flustered. Belphegor assumed that it might have something to do with the fact that Sam would, essentially, belong to someone after this. Humans never failed to amuse Belphegor.

"Good." Belphegor smirked. "Then come here lover boy."

~

Sam's memories were blurry at best. Part of them remembered that Dean died by getting impaled by a rusty nail while on a hunt. The other part of Sam remembers driving a knife into Dean's chest because they couldn't take Dean's yelling and drinking anymore. Sam was pretty sure that they actually killed Dean, but they couldn't be sure.

Hell did that to people. Sam couldn't remember the nights they spent with Dean watching the stars on the trunk of the Impala, neither of them exactly smiling or frowning. Sam couldn't place whether their father had actually taken them to a church on warm Sunday or whether that was just Hell leaking into their mind. Had they actually mocked a women and let her die?

There was just enough of a blur that Sam couldn't tell what was true and what was false. They knew that their name was Sam Winchester, and they had one brother and a half-brother. They went to Stanford for a brief period, and they had gotten people- friends, family, lovers, and innocent people- killed. They were the abomination, and their brother should have left them dead after they died the first time. They were one of Azazel's special children, and they'd been Lucifer's true vessel.

There was a reason demons turned into wicked creatures of great darkness. Hell was burning hot or so cold that the grounds froze over, only worsen by the fact that Rowena had been thrown off the throne a couple hundred years back. The instability of Hell was truly dreadful, and Rowena continued to gather an army to take it back from the current rulers.

It was the constant cycle of death everywhere, the painful reminders that Hell wasn't suited to be warm and welcoming. It was the smell of rot that never really left the lungs and the leakage of liquids that caused mold to grow and rot everything. It was the rotted structures that existed due to the fact that Hell was never stable long enough to really get anything done. It was the constant shame and guilt of still existing, the time blurring in self-hatred and desperation. It was the fact that there was seemingly no reason to hang on and not fail into darkness of Hell. Why not allow the darkness of Hell to sweep you up in its arms and welcome you into something new?

Sam wondered why he hadn't lost himself to the impurity of Hell? Had it been because Sam had been impure long before Hell? There had been nights when it had just been bodies crashing together while the mattress squeaked. There had been blades rubbing skin and lips leveling down to take in that blood like a lifeline. There had been innocent blood on blades that had taken the lives of so many. There had been fights and words that couldn't be taken back. There had been so much sin.

There had been repenting, praying to a God that just didn't care. There had been prayers whispered aloud while nearly choking on sobs. There had been funerals, filled with tears and guilt and prayer. There had been confessions in the basements of dirty churches and prayers in the long forgotten pews of abounded churches. There had been a dirty sinner reaching for a loveless God with nothing to offer up.

That was likely why Sam had hung on this long. They knew that they were dirty, their blood tainted with so much sin that they could never break free. They had seen the darkness in themself as a human, and it had taken ahold of them back then. They couldn't convert into darkness when they were the thing that was dark. Sam had always been biblically impure.

Sam's faction was getting changed for the third time. It seemed that Sam did poorly in managing the soul stock market, so they were moving them to a department where they would draft up laws for the factions. It was going to be a dull desk job, but Sam didn't mind. It meant new things and brand new people.

For the first couple months, it had been editing restrictions for demon deals ("you can't let three year olds sell there soul! They don't know what a soul is!"). Then, they were stuck writing up a deal to help some politicians get re-elected, despite the fact that Sam couldn't stand any of them. Sam had realized that nothing had changed since they died hundreds of years ago. Sam was then stuck trying to budget up enough money to rebuild up the most important infrastructures in Hell, which was sort of hard to plan when he had a thirteen dollar budget.

All of this was completely fine, until he was told that he was going to be working with Brady. The same Brady that had possessed by a demon and stabbed. Stabbed by Sam, nonetheless. Sam was that would go over well. Hey buddy. Sorry I kinda killed you. Let us figure out a way to get more funding.

Brady looked like he did when Sam killed him- and the demon possessing him. His eyes were a puddle of black, as were all the demons' eyes. The same cocky smile remained on his face, reminding Sam that demons possessing the vessel usually replicated the expressions that their vessels usually used. Dirty blond hair, almost appearing brown under some lighting, was still slicked to the side. He was still wearing that damned suit with that tie.

"Hey dude. My guess is that you're not here to have some Mary Jane with me," said Brady, smiling at Sam. Upon seeing Sam flinch, Brady put his hands up. "Is it the Mary Jane part or me calling you dude?"

"Can I say the dude part and... finding you?" questioned Sam.

"You just did," said Brady. "And, yes. Finding out you were here... damn mate. I wasn't that pissed at you about killing me."

"I…" Sam struggled to find the words he was looking for. "I… uhm… never thought this would happen. Uhm, I never thought I'd see you again."

"I thought the same thing about you Sam. After I was sent to Hell, I figured that I would never see you. I heard a lot about you, but I never thought that I would get to see you. And honestly, I don't know how I feel about you." Brady tilted his head at Sam.

"Me either," said Sam. "And I don't know how I feel about you."

Brady smiled at Sam. "I don't think we're dealing with the same thing." At seeing Sam's look, he continued to explain. "I… I had a crush on you in college, but I always thought you were straight. Then, you killed me."

"Have you ever killed anyone?" asked Sam.

"Excuse me?"

"Have you ever killed someone?"

Brady looked at Sam with a pointed, judgmental look. "Uhm…yes, technically. I killed three people, but it was an accident. Why would you ask that?"

"And what do you know about serial killers?" Sam continued to inquire.

"Uhm… a good bit. Why?" Brady said, looking at Sam with narrow eyes.

"It's something I require in my partners," said Sam. "Now, let us discuss building structure."

Brady wasn't sure what Sam meant by partner, but he would in a couple hundred more years.