"Just think about it Sammy, just think" Hot breath tickled Sam's ear, sending a shiver down his spine, Sam forced himself not to flinch away. it's not real.
"Come on, you know I'm right Sammy, I can see it in your eyes, the fear." Lucifer smiled, leaning over in front of Sam's face, placing one hand on the kitchen table where Sam was sitting at. Sam forced his eyes to stay on the task at hand, his fingers running over the rough metal of the gun.
"That's it, Remove the magazine, pull back the side, check for bullets, remove the side, remove the string, remove the barrel, put it all back, point, and shoot." The Devil spoke as Sam continued his dismantling, and remanteling of the small was rhythmic, something Sam could do without thinking, and something that kept him from thinking.
Sam heard Dean approach, but didn't respond, he needed to remain focused. everything is fine.
"Whatchat thinking about Sammy?" Dean slid into a seat next to him, pushing over a plate with a sandwich.
Sam glanced at the bread and ham, now rotting and moldy before him, he stifled a gag and focused back on the gun, which seemed to be the only thing that Lucifer didn't warp with his mind games.
"Hungry?" Dean asked, Sam could hear the worry in his voice, but still he kept his focus, "remove the magazine, pull back the size, empty the bullets" Lucifer's rhythmic voice echoed through his head.
"Come on man, you need to eat, I happen to know you haven't eaten at all today."
Sam swallowed, grabbed the sandwich without looking, and took a bite, cramming as much in his mouth as he could. He swallowed, chewing as little as possible, something that did not have the texture of deli ham and day old bread slipped down his throat. He shivered, and put it back on the plate. "remove the side, remove the string. remove the barrel."
"Good." Dean seemed pleased, Sam sighed slightly. "Wanna tell me what's going through that crazy head of yours?"
"put it all back, point and-"
"SAMMY!"
The gun was out of his hands, and pain erupted from his back as he was knocked to the ground. Fighter instincts kicked in and he struggled, his hands were grabbed, pinning him. Blinking he saw Dean on top of him, holding his hand against the floor, fingers digging into his wrist.
"So close" Lucifer chuckled, taking a seat in Sam's now vacant seat. Sam blinked at him, and then glanced at Dean. Dean's eyes were wide, terrified.
"What the hell Sammy?" Dean breathed, hands tightening around Sam's wrists. "What the hell was that?"
"That would be a point and shoot, so close, must try again soon." Lucifer leaned in the chair, picking up the gun and spinning it in his fingers, placing it back on the table.
Oh
Had Sam?
He didn't even realize.
"I didn't mean-" What didn't he mean? to point a gun at his brother? had he really gone that far down the rabbit hole?"
"What the hell is he saying to you man?" Dean finally relaxed his grip, sitting back and running a sweaty palm through his hair. "You gonna just give up on me?"
"Sorry." Sam's voice was barely above a whisper. "I wasn't going to- it was just- I didn't realize" Sam stammered, how could he describe something he didn't quite follow himself?
"Okay." Dean breathed. "Okay, just, talk to me yeah?"
"Yeah." Sam stood, legs unstable. He sat into a different chair, the devil still occupying his original seat. He reached again for the gun, but glancing at Dean's face he changed for the sandwich instead, ignoring the smell of rotting flesh.