AN: Remember those violence/gore warnings? Yeah, those come into play bigtime here. As do the ones in regards to self-harm, they are very prominent in this chapter, so please be advised and proceed with caution. And there are also a few implications of rape, but like I said at the beginning, nothing ever happens in this fic in that respect. It has meant a lot to me to see how many people are interested in this story, and I hope that if any of you are dealing with any of these issues that you seek out some help soon, and take care of yourselves. So thank you for all the follows and favourites so far, and remember to always keep fighting, guys.

Sam choked on the acrid stench of blood and filth permeating through the air. The chain constricting around his neck wasn't exactly helping him breathe either. Lucifer had left his limbs free this time, probably just because he got off on watching Sam helplessly squirm.

"So glad you finally decided to get some shut eye." Lucifer said. "Think all the lack of sleep was starting to mess with your head."

"Th-this isn't real." Sam sputtered, only to further lose oxygen as Lucifer tightened the chain again, crushing his windpipe all the more.

"Maybe not." Lucifer shrugged. "But thinking that doesn't seem to be helping you. If this is all a dream, why haven't you managed to wake yourself up yet?"

It was true. Sam hadn't believed that he was actually back in the Cage, until he'd been reliving it for what felt like hours. He'd told himself, "Wake up" more times than he could count, but it wasn't working. He knew these tortures weren't real, but that didn't make them hurt any less. Dying in a dream usually meant that he would wake up, but Lucifer seemed to know that too. So he made sure to keep Sam alive, which honestly made him get more creative.

Speaking of being forcibly kept alive, just before Sam felt himself slipping away due to asphyxiation, the chain encircling his throat disappeared. He collapsed onto his hands and knees on the floor of the Cage, panting and coughing on his forsaken breath. He brought up a hand to the raw skin on his neck, flinching at its sensitivity. He heard footsteps approaching, and he forced himself to look up, reluctantly meeting Lucifer's predatory gaze. The second he even considered getting back to his feet, Lucifer released a vicious backhand that knocked Sam onto his back.

"Know your place, Sam." The disturbingly playful undertone Lucifer had before had completely vanished, and Sam felt actively more afraid. Lucifer was always worse when he wasn't enjoying himself too much. He hated being bored. Whenever he was bored, that was always when he'd-

Sam swallowed. He couldn't think about that, wouldn't think about that. If his screwed up subconscious was trying to make him as miserable as possible right now, the worst thing he could do was fuel it with memories of Lucifer's most humiliating and demeaning game.

Sam's heart nearly stopped when Lucifer started straddling him, pinning his down his hands with his knees. But then Lucifer took out a scalpel, and Sam was actually relieved by the sight of it. Small victories he supposed.

"I think it's time for a lesson in control." Lucifer practically sing-songed. "Everything you have, is because I allow it."

"Not real."

Lucifer's icy hand almost lovingly wrapped around Sam's damaged neck, his cold fingers further agitating the skin, so Sam couldn't help but let out a small whimper.

"And at any given moment," Lucifer continued. "I can take it away. For example, your breath." His hand promptly tightened around Sam's neck, and Sam immediately went rigid beneath his unforgiving grip. Sam helplessly writhed any part of his body that he could still move. His legs kicked, his hips bucked, his arms strained beneath Lucifer's knees. It wasn't long before Lucifer released the hold on his neck, and Sam was heaving in grateful breaths, not even caring about the awful taste the air left in his mouth.

"Not real."

All too quickly, Lucifer took advantage of Sam panting in oxygen by grabbing his jaw to force his mouth open. The scalpel began tracing his lips with sickening intimacy, and then even slipped past, teasing his tongue with the blade.

"Or maybe that pesky but oh so talented tongue." He winked, and Sam clenched his eyes shut at the horrific memories brought up by that statement.

"Not real."

Lucifer wasted no time in forcing Sam's eyes open too, letting go of his mouth.

"Or those pretty, pretty eyes." The scalpel nicked the top of Sam's eyelid, and Sam felt the blood trickle down his cheek in a gross parody of a tear. Sam tried so hard, yet failed, not to shiver for fear of further piercing his eye.

"Not real."

He knew he was whimpering now, but he'd done much worse in Lucifer's presence before. It wasn't like he had any dignity left to lose.

The scalpel then glided past his eye, and flicked his earlobe.

"What about the ears, Sammy? You don't really need those, it's not like you listen to me anyway."

"Not real."

"Hey." Lucifer grabbed his jaw again, forcing Sam to maintain eye contact with him. "I'm trying to let you pick for once. C'mon, which of those do you want to lose? You know I'm not a very patient guy. Choose."

Sam closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He was in control of this, because this was in his mind, this was all a dream, this wasn't real!

So Sam chose. He chose defiance, and he spit in Lucifer's face.

The atmosphere of the Cage immediately shifted. The air dropped several degrees, and Lucifer's eyes changed from their icy blue to an even stonier and more chilling grey. Before Sam even had the chance to be scared, Lucifer swiped the scalpel across Sam's throat, and stood up. He watched passively as Sam choked on his own blood, hands desperately scrabbling at his neck to stop to blood flow.

"I'll see you when you wake up, bunk-buddy. And I'm not going to be happy."

And with that, Sam felt himself sit upright, still clutching his throat, but all the blood was gone, as was the Cage. He was in a motel room, his and Dean's motel room. He'd done it. He'd made it out of that nightmare, he was finally-

"You poor, clueless, little bitch."

"No." Sam's stomach clenched at the sound of Lucifer's voice right behind him. He started to panickedly reach for the wound Dean had just patched up again, but two icy hands firmly gripped him by the wrists. No matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't break free from Lucifer's grasp, which made no damn sense because he isn't real, how is this happening, why is this happening?!

Lucifer then yanked Sam right up against his cold chest, increasing Sam's panic. If possible, it got even worse as Lucifer leaned in to hiss his icy breath in Sam's ear, and Sam futilely writhed to try to get away.

"It doesn't matter if you're awake, dreaming, or dead. You will never be rid of me, because you. Belong. To me." Each word was punctuated by Lucifer further tightening his grip on Sam's wrists until Sam felt the bones grinding together. Sam choked on a gasp, trying to desperately to break free, but then Lucifer let go.

Instantly darting up, Sam ran for the bathroom, and quickly closed and locked the door behind him. Not that he really thought that a locked door would keep the imaginary Devil away, but he just had to do something.

An angry pounding on the door caused Sam to jump.

"You can't hide from me, Sammy!"

Maybe not, but he could at least try to banish him for a while. Sam lifted his shirt again, and all too eagerly and hastily dug his finger into the wound. Blood oozed out of it, along with other vile substances. The pain was astronomical, but the pounding on the door didn't stop.

Sam dug harder.

The pounding continued.

He wanted it to stop, needed it to stop. So Sam did something he had promised himself he never would. He practically tore the cabinet door off its hinges, and then pulled out a razor, quickly pushing the blades out. He picked one up, and poised it over his wrist, but then he paused. He knew he couldn't turn back after this. Every other wound hadn't been this severe. He wouldn't be able to justify this to-

Pound.

The blade sliced across his wrist without another thought. He winced at the intense pain, pleading that it would be enough.

Pound.

Slice.

POUND.

Slice.

POUND!

Slice…

All Sam could see was red, but all he could hear was fists against the door. And someone calling his name.

"Sam!"

Slice.

"Let me in, Sammy!"

Slice. Red began to turn to grey.

"SAM!"

And then- grey turned into nothingness. Sam didn't even feel himself falling.

AN: Again, I know this was intense, and I'm very sorry if this was hard for you to read, but I personally feel that if we avoid talking about difficult subjects forever then they are never going to be solved. The next chapter is the last, and I am doing my best to make sure that I wrap every uncomfortable loose end, because I know a lot of you are counting on me to do so, so I'm working very hard to ensure that I don't let y'all down. Speaking of next chapter, here's a-

Sneak Peek: "'I will fight Heaven and Hell and everything in between to protect you, but I can't keep fighting if you're not gonna fight with me… Please. Even if you can't fight for yourself, fight for me. I-I need you, little brother.'"

If you have anything you'd like to say about this fic so far, please feel free to review. I hopefully won't be long before I post the final chapter, but until then, take care, everyone.