A/N I had to remove some parts that got a bit to gory, because I don't want to anger ffnet. So, if you're interested in the un-edited version, you can find it under the same name on Ao3.
Enjoy my interpretation of what might have happened with Sam during his stay in the cage.
—
He remembered falling into the pit. The dark abyss greeting him with the screams of the dammed, or was it his own cry that still ringed in his ears? Hot, dry air filled with the smell of burning flesh drove through his hair and burned his face while he fell ever deeper into a place with no return. Sam closed his eyes to protect them, there was nothing to see anyway, nothing he wanted to see for that matter. And with closed eyes came the memories of a life he used to know. He tried to push them away, lock them away in a dark corner of his mind where they wouldn't haunt him. He wasn't ready for the pain they brought with them. Seeing their faces hurt him and his heart ached at the thought of how much pain his actions had caused his family. But he was gone now. And this time for good.
He remembered falling. He remembered it so clearly. The weightlessness, the feeling like his insides were turning, the hot air and screams. But when did it stop?
He did not remember landing. Just a sudden realization that he was lying on the cold metal of the cage. The air several degrees to cold for it to be comfortable to breath in. He felt exhausted and disoriented until a loud, ear-piercing laugh filled the air. A shiver ran down his spine, his blood froze and heart raced. A hand grabbed his hair and pulled him up. Sam opened his eyes in surprise and cold, blood-red glowing eyes, mere inches from his face, greeted him.
"Wake up, Sammy", Lucifer said, grinning. "I don't want you to miss all the fun stuff I've planned for you."
Still gripping Sam's hair, Lucifer slammed his head back into the metal floor. A surprised cry left Sam and dark spots danced in his vision. The splitting headache came shortly after. He tried to get up into a sitting position. His instincts screamed at him to run away, to get as much space between them as possible but the movement made his vision swim and he felt nauseous.
Before Sam could get any further, he felt a kick to his stomach. He fell back onto his back, air knocked out of him by the sheer force of the impact. He rolled over onto his side and groaned with pain. Sam pushed himself of the floor. He needed to fight back even though he could see how pointless it was. But he was determined to last as long as he could. He wouldn't go down without a fight.
He got up into a fighting stance, ignoring the pain and fear that was threatening to overcome him.
The devil had a wide smile on his face, his eyes filled with excitement. "You worried me there for second, Sam. I thought you had already given up."
Sam gritted his teeth, suppressing a comment, knowing his voice would shake.
Lucifer took a step in Sam's direction. Sam had to use every ounce of will not to step back. He balled his fists instead. Lucifer chuckled and mirrored his movement. "Cute."
The devil sprang forward. Sam sidestepped, barely evading the fist to his face. The second one caught his abdomen and he stumbled backwards. Sam tried to place a few of his own punches but Lucifer dodged them every time. He seemed to be able to predict every of Sam's movements and Sam wondered if Lucifer was reading his mind somehow. He was screwed either way, he concluded, pushing the thought aside.
Sam was getting tired and the cold air stung. Little clouds of condensed breath confirming the freezing temperatures. Lucifer was playing with him; Sam was very well aware of that. He had not attacked in the last couple of minutes. Just evaded everyone of Sam's punches and kicks with manic laughter.
"We're getting tired already, Sammy?"
Sam just glared in response. He almost rolled his eyes but refrained from doing so, not daring to lose sight of his opponent.
Lucifer pouted: "You can tell me, Sam. I won't judge you. Nobody will." He grinned. "Because you're trapped here for all ETERNITY!"
The devil threw himself at Sam. He crashed into the wall of the cage, the metal bars digging into his back. Sam gasped as the air was pushed out of him. He tried to pry away the devil's hands that were gripping his shirt and pushing him against the bars. He struggled to get in breaths, the pressure against his chest was too great. Could he be killed? Or was he already dead?
"What's wrong?", Lucifer whispered, leaning closer to Sam. "You're not regretting your decision to jump down here, are you?"
"Screw you!", Sam croaked.
Lucifer increased the pressure on Sam's chest in response. He winced, still trying to shove the hands away. The devil chuckled. Sam's anger rose again and he kicked at his opponent. He was desperate to get away from him, pretty sure that death wasn't an option. He got one lucky kick to his shin and Lucifer let go of him. Sam drew in a shaky breath. He needed a plan. Distracting the archangel or hurting him; just anything to get him to back of for while.
Lucifer growled, anger blazing in his eyes. The sudden change in Lucifer's posture sent Sam even more on edge. Like the flick of switch.
The devil pounced at Sam, who dropped to the floor to dodge his attacker. Sam started to get back up but Lucifer grabbed his ankle and dragged him back down.
"Where do you do think you're going?!", the devil shrieked, gripping Sam's shirt collar and raising him up. Sam stared back in horror, unable to do anything as Lucifer's face moved closer. The devil snarled, eyes wide and his whole body trembling.
"This is all YOUR FAULT!", he screamed. "Your fucking FAULT!". Lucifer let go of Sam and started punching him. Fist after fist aimed at his face. "You will pay for this, Sam! PAY!"
Blood was coating Sam's face; his eyes were beginning to swell shut. A sharp pain shot through the middle of Sam's face. Lucifer had broken his nose before he was able to raise his hands for protection. He's insane!
The devils' attacks became more and more animalistic the longer he went; clawing at every inch of Sam's body he could reach. Sam tried to block the attacks that were raining down at his face. But Lucifer just got more furious and started kicking at him instead.
Sam started crawling away from his attacker. He cried out in pain when he felt Lucifers step on his back, pushing him down to the floor. He felt a rip crack and barely suppressed a scream. Sam was ready to pass put. If this was how he will spend the rest of eternity, then escaping into the blissful abyss of darkness was his way to survive. I can't die.
Lucifer was still screaming, but the words barely reached Sam's mind. Sam felt like his head was put under water. All his senses were dulled. He hated his current situation—hated how vulnerable he felt—, but deep down he knew, he deserved every kick and every punch that's going to torture him forever.
Before he was able to escape into unconsciousness, he felt himself being lifted off the ground. Sam tried to fight it at first, thinking it was Lucifer until he heard the Archangel huff in confusion. Curious, he opened his eyes to see what was happening but his sight was still too blurry.
Sam heard Lucifer retreat and ask, confusion evident in his voice: "What the hell is going on?"
Maybe he was being saved, Sam though. But his relief was short-lived when he thought about it. The only plausible explanation for this sudden rescue would be Dean. Which only meant that his brother had broken his promise. Did he make a deal? Sam's heart clenched at the thought. He didn't deserve to be saved; not again. Is a deal even able to bring him out of the cage?
A warm feeling washed through him. Sam felt incredibly light and his mind was filled with a white light which pushed all his fears and worries out. He felt hopeful for the first time in a long while. Everything felt just right. He took a deep breath, letting his muscles relax.
Sudden, blinding pain seared through his body; muscles tensing and he begin to fall again. Sam hit the floor hard. The pain of the previous injuries was gone, but he felt more vulnerable than before. Something was really wrong. He scrambled into a sitting position. Sam's mind was racing, trying to comprehend what had just happened. He was still in the cage and the air was still freezing, but every time he exhaled his breath didn't come out as a little cloud like it previously did. Whatever just happened changed something with him.
Crazy laughter made Sam spin around. The devil was clutching his stomach, laughing like a mad man. Sam's stomach dropped.
"I can't belief— ", Lucifer wheezed out between laugh, "that's pathetic!"
Sam saw a shadow move slightly in a corner. It was Michael, he realized shocked. Another possible mad archangel Sam had not the will to deal with.
"Lucifer, could you please be quieter!" Michael's voice was quiet but still filled with so much power, it made his hair stand on end.
Lucifer turned his eyes away from Sam and faced his brother. He was still laughing uncontrollably. "Have you seen what just happened?"
"Yes, I have", Michael replied his face void of any emotion.
"He was too— ", the devil took in a shaky breath, "heavy for him!"
Sam stared at the two Archangels, trying desperately to understand what he was missing. It must be something incredibly important and by the way Lucifer was reacting it was nothing good.
Lucifer gathered himself and turned back to Sam. The devil had a wide, eerie grin plastered across face. "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy", Lucifer shook his head, "there are so many new things we can do now."
The devil walked closer. Sam pushed himself onto his feet. His legs almost gave away under the weight but he regained his balance.
Lucifer chuckled. "We will have so much fun!"
…
Sam couldn't see and couldn't hear. Darkness is all he knew in this very moment. And he was thankful for that. The ground underneath him started vibrating. Faint music reached his ears. Sam's senses stared to come back. He felt leather underneath his fingers. He realized that he wasn't lying anymore. Sam was sitting on something more comfortable than the floor of the cage. He moved his stiff legs and his knee bumped against something. The music became more obnoxious, and light was streaming through his closed lids.
Sam opened his eyes warily. The light was blinding him at first, but as soon as his eyes adjusted Sam sat straight up. He was in the Impala! He turned his head to the driver's seat. Dean! His brother was there and he looked just fine. No cuts, no bruises. He just looked a bit tired, but that's how they always looked like after an intense hunt.
Dean glanced over to him. "You're alright, Sam? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Sam just blinked. Intense relief washed through him at the sight of his brother. It felt like he hasn't seen him in years. Sam frowned. He had no reason to feel that way. They just got back from a hunt; a… a vampire nest. Dean never left him, so where did this strange feeling come from?
"Sam?", Dean asked, concerned.
"Hm, what? Yeah, I'm fine", Sam replied quickly.
"Sure"
They sat in silence for a while, the only noise being the sound of the engine rumbling and the music playing in the background. Sam leaned back in his seat, looking out the window. He felt happy; safe even and whatever had bugging him at the beginning was gone.
They were passing by a large corn field when Sam decided to speak up: "So what's next?"
"Hm?" Dean was staring at the road in front of them.
Sam shrugged. "A new hunt, maybe?"
Dean tensed, he gripped the steering wheel tighter and clenched his jaw.
"Yeah, no. I don't think that's a good idea, Sam", he said after a while.
Sam furrowed his browns. "And why's that?"
His brother shook his head slowly from one side to the other as if he was contemplating something. "I just don't think you should continue hunting. It's not safe."
Sam scoffed. "I'm very well able to protect myself—"
"That's not what I meant", Dean interrupted him. "I'm more concerned about possible outsiders getting hurt." The older brother sighted. "You're dangerous, man."
Sam clenched his fists. What made his brother change his mind? Why did he decide to reopen one of the most painful wounds of Sam's past? The sky was getting darker, mirroring his deteriorating mood. "What's that supposed to mean?", Sam asked sharply.
Dean hesitated. "You know…"
"No, I don't know, Dean." Sam tried to keep his voice calm. This might be just a big misunderstanding, right? There was no way Dean would bring that up now.
Dean started tapping the steering wheel with his fingers. Clearly nervous. He bit his lower lip before answering: "Your powers, Sam. This whole demon blood thing, man. 's not safe."
"You can't be serious. I'm over it!" Sam was now fully facing his brother, who was still glaring out of the windshield, staring out onto the empty dirt road. "You know I stopped after Lilith died!"
"This doesn't change what you are!", Dean growled.
Sam stared at his brother, caught off guard. Dean was still refusing to look at him.
"What I am?"
Dean gritted his teeth. "Yes, Sam. What you are. Cause we both know, you're not human."
Sam opened and closed his mouth again. A lump in his throat was prevented him from speaking. Was that what Dean really thought about him?
"You've never been fully human, Sam. And it just got worse and worse over the past years. First all this crap with Azazel and then demon blood?" Dean shook his head. "Honestly? I think dad was right all along."
Sam blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. His nails dug deeper into his sweary palm. He was shaking. "What?", he croaked.
"Yeah, Sam. I said it. Dad was right. He was absolutely right and I should have followed his last order, but I was too damn weak. I thought I would be able to save you, 'cause I had faith! I put my whole trust in you and look how it turned out!"
Sam's chest felt heavy. A great weight was pushing down on him and he found it hard to breath. He pressed his lips together exhaling sharply through his nose. Sam averted his gaze and tried to pull himself together.
"You don't mean that."
"Yes Sam, I do!", Dean snarled and pulled over. "Saving your life back in Cold Oak was a mistake! I should have let you stay dead! You're just a blood-sucking freak, Sam! A monster! A fucking ABOMINATION!"
Dean was finally looking his brother in the eyes. He was breathing heavily, his face flushed with rage. A complete contrast to Sam's ghostly pale face.
"I'm surprised no hunter has found you yet. They would have pulled the trigger without sparing you a second glance", Dean spat.
Sam still stared at his brother. The initial shock slowly turned into a daze. When he opened his mouth again, his voice was oddly calm. "Fine. What do you want me to do? Leave?"
"Leave?", Dean repeated coldly. "You can't leave, Sam."
Sam raised his brow, about to prove Dean wrong when he felt something cold wrap around his wrists. He looked down at his hands and saw a pair of thick, iron manacles, connected by a sturdy chain wrapped, around them. He blinked and pulled at them. They were rough and heavy and definitely not there a minute ago.
"Dean? What's that sup—" blinding pain cut him off. Every part of his body felt like it was being twisted. His muscles tensed and his body pressed into the seat. Sam rolled his head back, grimacing and cried out with pain.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself inside a wooden barn. Light was streaming through high, rectangular windows bathing the inside in cold, dim light. Hay was pilled up in a corner and when he looked beneath his feet, he found himself in middle of a devil's trap.
Sam's arms tingled. They were suspended over his head by the iron manacles, which were attached to a hook hanging from a wooden beam. He tugged at them warily. Their clatter broke the eerie silence and a cloud of dust rained down on him, which made him cough.
The large double doors opened with a loud creak and a figure stepped inside. Sam squinted against the new light source.
"Dean?"
The figure closed the doors behind him and walked over to Sam. When he walked out of the shadows, Sam's suspicion was confirmed. It was in fact his older brother, but something inside of him screamed 'wrong' when he looked at him.
"What's going on, Dean?", Sam asked, studying his brothers features. His face was void of any emotions; his green eyes stone cold. This was Dean's hunter expression, Sam realized with a pang. And it was directed at him.
He was carrying a large duffle bag over his right shoulder, which he let slide down and fall to the floor with a loud thud.
Ignoring his younger brother, Dean walked around the devil's trap, checking it for cracks and imperfections, Sam assumed. He followed his brother with his eyes; heart picking up its pace.
"Dean?" Sam turned his body to face him. The chains clattered. "Are you even listening?"
"Shut up!", he said simply, stopping next to the bag. He clenched and unclenched his hands repeatedly.
"Excuse me?"
"I said: shut up!", Dean repeated with more force, looking up.
Sam pressed his lips together out of confusion and frankly fear. Something must have messed with his brother's mind, making him see a monster instead of Sam—a demon, considering the trap underneath him.
Dean sighted and reached down into the duffle bag. When he got back up, Sam saw him holding Ruby's demon-killing knife.
Sam stepped back, but the chains pulled him back into the middle of the circle. Their rattling echoing like thunder in this too quiet place.
"Dean, wait! I'm not a demon!", he said, eyeing the blade. Dean was more of a shoot first, aske questions later type of guy, so he had to act quick.
"And that's the problem", Dean huffed and pointed the knife in Sam's direction. "You see. A demon is easy to deal with. Trap it, then exorcize or kill it." He shrugged. "Easy." Dean took a step into the devil's trap, examining the blade. "You on the other hand,", he begun, shifting his gaze back to his brother, who was eyeing him anxiously, "are something far more dangerous, than any monster I have faced so far."
Okay, so this was bad. "Dean, listen. I don't know what got over you, but we can figure it out together. I'm still Sam. I'm still your brother", he pleaded. His heart was hammering painfully against his ribs. Sam's fingers traced the iron restrains absently, searching for weak spots.
The older hunter shifted on his feet. "Oh yeah, I know that. I do. I just wished, that I could have saved you before you became what you are now."
"I'm still—"
"No, you're not, Sam! You stopped being human as soon as you started drinking that demon blood!"
Sam flinched. Dean was just inches away from his brother. His fist was clenched tightly around the handle of the blade while he stared intensely into Sam's eyes. Despite being the taller one, the younger hunter felt incredibly small under his brother's gaze.
"You chose to go dark-side! You chose to do this to yourself! I tried to save you, Sammy. I really did."
Sam's chest felt heavy, like someone was pilling stones on top of it. And every new word that escaped Dean, was another weight pushing him down. Sam felt tears forming, but he blinked them away for now.
"Dean, please…"
Dean turned around suddenly, walking out of the devil's trap. Still with his back facing Sam, he said: "You know, this is really getting out of hand. I don't know why I'm still talking to you." He turned around and huffed a laugh. "I know that you're still technically Sam, but you stopped being my brother months ago. You're just another freak that needs to be dealt with."
The pressure on Sam's chest was slowly becoming unbearable. Tears were welling up inside his eyes again. He tried to say something, but his throat was too tight. He could barely breath. Sam nodded instead, realization dawning upon him. This was it then. Dean had finally broken under the burden, he used to call his brother.
Dean stepped closer again. "Before I'll take you out though, you first need to pay for all the things you did."
Dean re-entered the devil's trap and raised the knife. His eyes were cold and calculating. Dean grabbed Sam's shirt and cut it open, letting it fall down to the floor. He pressed the knife down at Sam's collarbone and slowly dragged it down. The younger hunter grunted with pain. This wasn't the worst injury he ever sustained. It just stung a little. No, this hurt in a different kind of way.
"You're responsible for so many deaths, Sam", Dean whispered, cutting a new line parallel to the first one. A third cut teared through the anti-possession-tattoo.
Sam gritted his teeth and looked off into the distance. A lot of people he considered family died; died because of his stupid mistakes. But it was his fault nonetheless. Maybe if he let Dean do whatever he deemed right, he could lift some of the guilt off his shoulders that's been crushing him for months and tormenting his mind and soul.
"First mom,", Dean said, slicing across Sam's chest down to his naval. "Then Jessica." He cut another line next to it. "If you never left for Stanford, she would have still been alive." Dean proceeded to connect both lines into a rectangle. "She didn't deserve this and you know that."
A cry escaped Sam as Dean placed another cut across his chest. He bit down on his lower lip to stifle it. 'Don't give in yet!', Sam repeated his silent mantra over and over again. This was only the beginning. He needed to be strong, if he wanted to last till the end. He had to pay.
"Yeah, hurts, doesn't it?", Dean asked, smirking. "I bet burning on the ceiling hurts more."
The hunter kept on slicing, while Sam tried to push the images of his burning girlfriend away. "I don't think you need this anymore", Dean remarked and pointed the tip of the blade at the anti-possession-tattoo. "You're almost a demon yourself. There's no need to posses you, don't you think?" Dean slowly started to cut around the pentagram, inch by inch like he was working on a delicate art piece.
Sam squeezed his eyes shut. The image of Jessica replaced by Ruby. The demon he had trusted and the one who eventually robbed him of his humanity. A single tear rolled down his cheek. This was all his fault; his brother was right. All his actions caused more harm than good, even though they were always meant well. Maybe he was designed to be evil? Every choice he made let to more and more destruction. If he had just listened to his brother—the man who was always right, John Winchesters favourite son and perfect soldier—maybe then… things could have been different.
Sam's whole chest felt like it was on fire and every little gust of wind sent a new shock through his upper body. His suspended arms started to tingle painfully and his shoulders felt strained.
A loud splat drew him back to reality. The neatly cut out anti-possession-tattoo lay at the edge of the devil's trap. The sight made him sick.
"Nasty, right?", Dean asked, looking at the piece of flesh. "You know what else makes me sick?" Dean turned back to Sam. "Knowing that it's your fault that Jo and Ellen died." Dean drove the blade into Sam's lower abdomen with full force. He gasped. Dean continued to drag the knife lower and Sam cried out with pain.
He desperately wanted to pass out, let the darkness consume him, but even though the pain was agonizing, his mind just wouldn't shut down.
"They weren't the only ones who suffered because you set the devil free." Dean ripped the blade out. Sam whimpered and let his chin fall down on his bleeding chest. He was panting now.
"Millions, Sam! Millions suffered, because you decided to trust a demon over your own family!" The hunter started slashing violently at Sam's chest. Expanding his attack to his face and arms as well. Cuts littered Sam's skin; small rivulets of blood trickled down his body mixing with sweat.
Sam tried to keep it together. He clenched his jaw and his arms moved instinctively to cover his face, but the chains held them back.
"But the worst thing,", Dean growled, stopping in his act, "is what you've done to Bobby,", Dean leaned closer to Sam's ear, "and Castiel."
Dean pointed the blade threatening at Sam's face, eyes darkening.
"They were trying to help and you just killed them!", he said in a low voice.
A weird sensation washed over Sam at these words. He knew that Dean was right, but when he tried to recall the exact event, his mind filled with fog. Something felt awfully off about this situation. He knew it had happened. He could feel the sickening sensation of wrongness deep to his very core. But his mind stayed blank.
Sam understood. He was just another monster—prey to a hunter like Dean. He couldn't hate him. He tried, but Dean was just doing his job. And if that meant enduring all the pain that was inflicted upon him to pay for all the suffering, he had caused the hunter—no, the world—he would go through it.
Something dangerous flashed in his brother's eyes. An expression he usually wore when things turned out according to plan. "I had a really great teacher. I guess selling my soul and spending decades in hell had it's perks."
Hell… that word caused Sam to think again. Something about that term set his thoughts racing. Sam's mind wanted him to remember something, but he couldn't place a finger on it.
Dean's demeanor changed suddenly. His eyes focused on Sam. With one big step, Dean was back in front of his captive. Sam had barely time to react before Dean plunged the knife into his chest, aiming for the heart. Fiery pain exploded in his chest, traveling through his whole body. Sam was gasping for air. His muscles tensed. The chains rattled.
Dean had a wide grin on his face, his eyes staring intensely into Sam's.
Then, Dean began twisting the blade and Sam screamed.
Why wasn't he dying. Why wasn't this ending?
Sam's legs buckled and his shoulder burned under the new strain. He kept on screaming and yelling for his brother to stop, but he ignored it.
Sam's, now hoars, voice began to sound foreign to his own ears. A violent shiver overtook his whole body.
"What's wrong, Sammy?", Sam heard Dean say sickly-sweet, but his tone sounded off. There was a weird echoey effect placed over his brother's words and when he looked in his direction, he saw his eyes glowing red.
Sam tried to focus his eyes on them, but the whole room began to shift before him. This made him nauseous. He closed his eyes and Dean began to laugh. Why couldn't he just stop existing?
The air around him grew cold. It pierced through his skin, like tiny needles pushing into him, chilling him to his bones.
Dean's laughter became more distorted until it didn't sound like his brother anymore.
Someone grabbed his shoulder and shook it. And they only stopped when Sam began to react.
"Awe, Sam! How did you like it?" Lucifer was leaning over Sam's body, grinning. "Fun, wasn't it?"
Sam held his breath and laid still. His eyes were scanning the room—cage he figured. His head throbbed dully and if he concentrated, he could feel the phantom pain of the earlier torture. Fake torture. That was just all Lucifer's mind game, right? Using his fears and making them reality. Cause Dean—Dean would never do this…
"If I didn't know you, I would want to hunt you!"
Maybe he should.
Reality. Sam has lost track of reality. What used to be easy, was now impossible. The only constant he knew was pain. Pain was easier to keep track of. It was either there or it wasn't, although the second option was rarely an occurrence. Sometimes, Sam found himself trapped in a reality where family was his enemy. He was simply prey to hunters, he thought loved him. Naïve. They never liked him; he was never part of their family. Always an outsider. A freak. They only tolerated him to keep an eye on the monster. A monster they raised to kill, if he ever lost control.
He said, that I might have to kill you, Sammy!
Other times he was with Lucifer, and while the devil was unable to hurt him with words, he knew how to inflict pain with other means. Skinning him alive. Burning him. Or just ripping him apart. Simple, but effective. And it was always accompanied by his crazy laughter. A bone chilling, inhumane sound, that made his stomach turn and heart racing.
On some occasions Michael joined them as well, only if Lucifer was insistent enough. The archangel usually kept to himself; staring out into the vast darkness beyond the cage. Not talking and barely moving.
Adam was there as well, staying in a corner and trying not to draw any attention to himself. He was successful. Sam barley noticed him anymore and Lucifer wasn't really interested in him. He tried to hurt Adam once to torture Sam in a different way, but it proved to be rather boring.
"I barely touched him and he's already screaming like a chicken. That's disappointing", the devil said, rolling his eyes.
Adam was pressed into a corner, cradling his broken arm and face covered in blood. Sam was glad, that Lucifer found Adam too annoying to bother hurting him more. The hunter would rather be tortured, than seeing his half-brother being hurt, who didn't deserve it at all in the first place.
Another innocent, who was dragged into a war that wasn't his to fight. Another life ruined because of Sam.
…
"Are you cold, Sammy?", Lucifer asked with an innocent look on his face. Sam knew what this question meant, so it didn't surprise him when the flames started licking at his skin. Lucifer had just stitched him back together again after tearing him into pieces. It always took some time to regain control over his previously detached limbs. Moving away from the fire, which was burning brighter and brighter by the second, was not an option and the devil knew that.
He crouched down next to Sam, crooking his head. An evil smirk played across his face.
Sam stared at him, pressing his lips together. He wouldn't cry out, not yet. The flames were everywhere by now, eating his flesh and burning his clothes. The first time it happened, Sam was a mess as soon as the flames got a hold of him. Now, after enduring what felt like a lifetime of torture, it took way more pain to break him.
"You're so quiet. Is it still to cold for you?" Lucifer leaned over the burning body, grinning. "Don't worry. I can change that."
Sam never thought it was possible for the fire to get more hot, more intense. He screamed his lungs out.
And the devil was giggling like a child and Sam was certain he heard clapping. Lucifer flicked his wrist and Sam felt a strange force grip him and lift him up. He was raised higher and higher until his back touched the ceiling. He still couldn't move.
The devil was looking up at him, eyes glinting with childish excitement. "Like mother like son", he said and with a twist of his fist he sent a new kind of pain through Sam's body. The fire and heat were forgotten momentarily as Sam struggled for air. His insides were being ripped apart; shredded into tiny pieces. He coughed and the crimson liquid splattered onto the floor. Sam yelled as another shockwave of pain washed through him. His whole body became rigid; every functioning muscle tensing, before shaking violently.
Sam closed his eyes. Tears were rolling down his cheeks in streams, mixing with the blood on the floor. Hasn't he suffered enough? He just wanted this to end. Get consumed by eternal darkness and rest till the end of time itself.
Just let me die!
He let himself break.
No reason to keep fighting.
The devil won.
The pain vanished. Sam felt like he was in a room full of fuzzy cotton, floating in it. It was warm and quiet. He could finally relax.
"This soul is shattered beyond repair."