I am soooo sorry for the late update. I've been ill so was staying with family, away from laptop. I'm home now, though, so I'm able to update—and write—again. I missed hearing from you all, too. I didn't fully appreciate how much support and encouragement I got from your comments and kudos before.

Chapter Four

Sam's ears were assaulted by sound, and he cringed back into the pillows. It was too much to take in—he could hear fast breaths, the ticking of a clock, too many voices.

"Easy, Sammy. It's okay. You're fine."

It was Dean's voice, trying to reassure him, but it was too loud for him. He wanted to cover his ears, but he also couldn't move. What had Chuck done to him? Was he paralyzed? Was this his new punishment?

"Don't, Mom!"

There was a soft touch to his shoulder, and his mother spoke. "Breathe, Sam."

In an instant, Sam was on his feet, freedom of movement returning. His back slammed against the wall, and his eyes darted around at them all.

Mary was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands reaching for him, and her face stricken. Dean and Nick were side by side at the end of the bed, their eyes wary. Castiel stood by the door, watching him cautiously, and Chuck was behind Dean and Nick, his face alive with amusement that only Sam could see as everyone else was focused on him.

Sam felt a surge of hatred along with his fear, and he wanted to run, to get away. His back straightened automatically, and he felt his wings spread from his back, strong and heavy. They all stepped back, shock on their faces.

He was still an angel! He never imagined Chuck would do this. He'd thought he was coming back as a human, reset to who he should be, not this.

"Give him space," Castiel warned as they all focused on the wings that they would see as shadows against the wall.

In a rare moment of obedience, they all moved back, and Mary lowered her hands to her lap.

"There's no need to be scared, Sam," Chuck said, barely containing the glee in his voice that only Sam seemed to register. "I know it's confusing. But you're okay now. You're back."

Sam glowered at him. He started to say it, that he'd had no choice in what had happened, that Chuck had done this against his will, and he should be able to now that his strings were cut, but the words stopped in his throat as he saw troubled eyes.

He could say it, to cast the accusation, but it would hurt his brother. Dean had been so happy when Sam had said—with Chuck's hands pulling the strings—that he wanted to be back, and he couldn't destroy that.

"Say something, Sam," Nick implored.

"Don't hold it in, Sam. You know it helps when you let it all out. Show me how much it hurts. Let me see it all."

Sam flinched as Lucifer's voice echoed through his mind. He remembered those words; they had been a regular instruction in the Cage in the days in which Sam still tried to keep control of himself. Those days hadn't lasted long compared to how long he was in there, only the first few years, perhaps, before he'd given in and allowed the screams and pleas to rip from him under the knife.

It wasn't a new memory to him, he'd carried it for years, but the feeling that came with it was unfamiliar. He was scared.

He hadn't been scared like this since Castiel took the experience from him to save his life. Lucifer had still scared him for the threat he posed and what he had already done, but Sam had not felt it the same way. What had Chuck done to him?

What do you think he's done? Gabriel asked. This is window dressing, Sam. He's created a character that is all screwed up from what Lucifer and Crowley did, and it needs to look realistic. How believable would the story be if you were all stoic in the face of what happened? You've got to admit it's a masterstroke. He really is invested in this particular tale.

Sam winced from the voice. He was already overwhelmed enough without ghosts chatting in his head, no matter how much sense they made.

"I feel it," he said quietly and automatically.

Dean's brow furrowed. "Feel what?"

"Your grace?" Chuck guessed. "Yes, I thought you might. It's even more overwhelming for an angel to be brought back than a human. Your grace will need time to recover. It's essentially new again. It has its own memories, and they're what's reacting now."

"Why does he even have grace?" Nick asked, his eyes accusing as he fixed his stare on Chuck.

Chuck's face fell into lines of false regret. "I couldn't control it. It was an archangel that died, so it was an archangel that I had to bring back. The grace is fully replenished now. There's no weakness from what you lost with your injuries." He addressed Sam. "I can take it away if that's what you want. We can remove your grace and make you human again."

"Are you in pain, Sam?" his mother asked. "Is it hurting you? Chuck can take it away…"

"Is that what you want, Sam?" Chuck prompted.

"Is it?" Mary asked, her gaze imploring him for a response.

Before Sam could answer, Chuck went on. "It would be dangerous. There are risks to you, Sam"—he paused and formed his face into worry—"and to the world. There would be no last measure of protection."

"Protection from what?" Dean asked. "Michael is gone."

Nick sucked in a breath, and Sam saw real fear on his face. "Is Lucifer coming back?"

"No," Chuck reassured him. "He is with Amara and me now. He couldn't escape us even if he wanted to. Though he is already changing from the being that hurt you so much, Nick. He's better now with his new life. It's just there are other threats out there. It's your choice, Sam."

Sam scoffed. Of course, it was his choice. Chuck wouldn't miss this chance to manipulate the situation, to keep Sam separate from his family in yet another way. He may have cut the strings, but he would still find a way to screw with Sam.

Sam shook his head jerkily. "It can stay."

Dean looked pleased and… admiring? What did he see, what version of the brother Chuck had created for him? Was the Sam he remembered stubborn or just determined to protect, strong? He guessed the latter as it would fit with the man that had said yes to Lucifer to protect his younger brother.

"You're making the right choice," Chuck said, his eyes bright with mirth.

"Are you sure, Sam?" Nick asked, genuine concern in his voice that felt like a barb against Sam's skin.

Sam forced himself not to recoil, making a show of calm by curling his wings in at his back, and nodded.

"Good," Chuck said. "I'll leave you all to talk. I want to speak to Rowena before I go."

"Thank you, Chuck," Dean said fervently. "We're never going to be able to repay you for this." His eyes moved to Sam, indicating the cause of his gratitude—Sam's resurrection.

"I owed it to you all," Chuck said. "Sam, you're perfectly safe now. Your family will be able to help you."

Sam narrowed his eyes at him. The emphasis he put on the word and the way he fixed his gaze on Nick made it clear which member of his 'family' he wanted to draw Sam's attention to. Chuck was enjoying himself, reminding Sam of what he was living with now—who he was living with.

Chuck looked oddly sad in the moment before he left the room, a show of regret for the way Sam was reacting to him just for the others to see.

"We will help you, Sam," Nick promised. "All of us. Just tell us what you need."

The genuine emotion in his voice, the fact he truly wanted to help, made heat rise in Sam's chest. This was so wrong, so twisted, and it was only the beginning. His life was going to be intertwined with Nick's forever now. He was never going to get away from him.

"I don't know what I need," Sam said honestly, forcing himself to look into the face of his torturer.

It seemed so much harder to be near him now. He'd faced Nick before many times, he'd seen him taking Sam's place with his family, but now it felt almost unbearable. Was it because he knew what it meant now, the fatalism of their life together, or was it something to do with the raw memories of the Cage that Sam was immersed in again?

"We can just get a drink and talk," Dean said. "I guess you won't want the drink, but… how much do you know about this place? You knew about Henry, right? I mean, you salted and burned him."

Sam shrugged and pulled an explanation out of thin air. "I know what Lucifer knew."

"You have his memories?" Nick asked, looking sickened. "All of what he… did?"

Sam realized what Nick was asking, and he formed his answer carefully. Nick wanted to know what Sam remembered of the Cage and what Lucifer had done to him there. He wasn't going to claim ownership of Nick's torture as it had never been Nick that had suffered. He would not feign regret for what had happened to Nick - as it hadn't.

"I don't have his memories, but I have his knowledge," Sam said.

Dean's brow furrowed with confusion. "You told Michael you only had your own."

"I lied to Michael about a lot of things," Sam said. "It was easier."

Looking relieved, Nick nodded and said, "Lucifer didn't know it all though, everything you missed. Do you want us to fill you in?"

Sam shook his head briskly. He wasn't going to be told his own life story from this interloper. Lucifer would have known enough from his scouring of Castiel's mind as a vessel, and that would do to cover the gaps that mattered. He had been there for almost all of the rest of it.

"Can we talk, though?" Mary asked hopefully. "There's so much we need to say, that I need to say. It's been a lifetime for me, Sam. I want to…"

The words went unsaid, but Sam knew what she wanted. For her, this was her first chance to be with him properly since he was a toddler. She wanted to create memories with him, a bond. Sam didn't think he could do it. Seeing the open emotion in them all, in Nick, was too much to handle. He just wanted space.

"I'm sorry," he said, genuine regret in his voice. "I can't yet. I need to go."

"No!" Nick said, moving towards him as if he couldn't resist the draw.

"I'll come back," Sam said, his eyes moving from Dean to Mary.

His wings spread again. He felt the resistance of the sigils that had limited his ability to fly into the bunker, but his full grace allowed him to take flight. He went to the library first and retrieved the two blades—his own and Michael's.

Rowena's, Jack's, and Chuck's eyes fell on him, and Rowena shrank back in her chair while Jack watched him uncertainly, and then Sam fled, needing space and peace to work through what had happened and what it meant for him now.

So… Chuck also slammed Sam with a head full of Hell again. I've hurt Sam in some pretty twisted ways through my stories, but I think Chuck is taking it up a notch with the mental torture in this one.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx