Chapter Seventeen

Lucifer was lying on the bed, and Sam lie beside him with his head pillowed on Lucifer's chest. Lucifer was running his hands through Sam's hair, and it was making Sam drowsy.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Lucifer asked yet again.

"I'm fine, Lucifer, you healed me."

Sam's head bobbed as Lucifer drew in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "It is more than your physical wellbeing that I am asking after."

Sam considered carefully. Physically he was well, Lucifer had healed all his injuries, but mentally, he was feeling delicate. He had suffered under Raphael, and it would take a while for him to really believe he was safe again. Having Lucifer beside him helped.

"I am still a little stunned," Sam admitted. "I thought I knew pain, but... what she did, it was different."

He felt Lucifer stiffen under him. "I will never forgive myself for what happened."

Sam nuzzled into Lucifer's chest a little closer. "It wasn't your fault."

"Raphael took you because of me."

"It doesn't matter why it happened, it's over now."

Sam didn't blame Lucifer for what had happened. He was no more in control of the situation than Bobby or Castiel were. Raphael had played them all, expertly. Mimicking Bobby's voice was a stroke of genius.

Lucifer pressed a kiss to Sam's crown. "It's over and you are safe." Sam knew he was speaking to himself as much as he was Sam. He was reassuring himself that Sam was well. To counterpoint his words, he tightened his arms around Sam slightly.

For Sam, the very worst part of what had happened hadn't been the pain or the taunts, though they had been unbearable, it was knowing his brother had been through worse and for longer. He'd been on the rack for thirty years before he'd broken. Sam had never blamed or thought less of Dean for that, but now he felt a sense of awe for his brother's strength. It felt like Sam had been under her knife for days, when in fact it had only been hours. He could never have lasted thirty years as Dean had.

"Sam," Lucifer said in a thoughtful tone. "I have a question."

Sam moved so he could see Lucifer's face. Lucifer's lips were pressed into a hard line, and there were deep lines in his brow.

"What?"

"Why didn't you pray for me?"

"I don't know," he said. "I guess I was caught off guard. She knocked me out almost as soon as she arrived."

"You misunderstand me. I meant why didn't you pray when Raphael was hurting you?"

Sam sighed and buried his face against Lucifer's chest again. "I didn't want you to hear my pain," he said quietly. "It was bad enough that I was hurting; I didn't want you to hurt, too."

Lucifer ran a finger over Sam's cheek. "I wish you had. At least then I would have known you were alive. I don't think you understand how scared I was, Sam. I thought I'd lost you. I..."

Sam looked up at his face. "You what?"

"I cannot be without you."

Sam smiled. "You won't be without me. I'll never leave you. I promise."

Lucifer's lips curved into a smile. "And I will never give you cause to."

Sam shifted so he was eye level with Lucifer, and he leaned in so he could feel Lucifer's cool breath against his lips. Lucifer tilted his head forward, and their lips met. Of all the things Sam had experienced, including Heaven and Hell, nothing could compare to kissing Lucifer. It washed away everything else, until all that existed was the two of them in their perfect bubble of peace, but for once the feeling of peace didn't last. A shudder swept through Sam, and he pulled away, resting his forehead against Lucifer's.

"Are you okay?" Lucifer asked.

"I'm still processing it all. It's still kinda fresh in my mind."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lucifer asked.

"I don't know what to say, where to begin. I don't know if I'm ready."

Lucifer nodded. "I understand." He ran the back of his hand over Sam's cheek. "We can wait until you're ready."

Sam nodded and nuzzled into Lucifer's neck. When he spoke, his words were muffled. "Raphael told me things... about Dean."

Lucifer sighed heavily. "So now you know."

"It's true, then, what she told me? What Dean did."

Lucifer rested his chin on Sam's head. "What did Raphael tell you?"

"That Dean was a killer, that he wasn't just killing monsters, but humans too if they got in his way."

"I wish I could tell you differently, but I am afraid Raphael was telling the truth."

Sam's chest contracted painfully. Part of him was hoping it wasn't true, that Lucifer would tell him she had been lying just to hurt him, but now he knew the truth and there was no going back.

"I did this to him. I left him and he fell apart."

Lucifer ran his hand up and down Sam's arm. "He made his own choices, Sam. You can't blame yourself for them."

"But can't I? It's my fault, isn't it? If I'd been here..."

"If you'd been here, you would have been miserable. I heard what happened to you in the week we were apart, Gabriel told me. You could not have lived like that."

"I should have done more. Maybe if I'd spoken to him before I left, explained more..."

"It would have changed nothing," Lucifer said. "Dean chose to go down that road. It is not your fault."

Sam pushed up from Lucifer's chest and he got to his feet. Pacing the length of the room, he ran his hands through his hair. "This is all so messed up!"

Lucifer leaned forward on the bed. "Who are you really angry at Sam, yourself or Dean?"

Sam laughed. "Dean? Why would I be angry at Dean. He wasn't the one that failed here, I was."

"You're wrong," Lucifer said baldly. "You didn't fail your brother, he failed you. You trusted him to go on without you, and he chose a darker path."

"You don't understand," Sam said. "I should have been there."

"At the expense of your own happiness? Be honest with me, Sam, now you know the truth, does it change the way you feel about your brother?"

"No!" Sam said immediately. "Dean's my brother, and I love him. Nothing can change that."

"Then why does it matter?"

"Because this is my fault. I did this to him. Every life he took, it's because of me. As if there weren't already enough deaths on my account."

Lucifer got to his feet and caught Sam around the hip as he passed in his pacing. "After Dean was taken to Hell, you became embroiled with Ruby, and because of that I was freed. Do you blame Dean for that?"

"Of course not."

"Then why do you blame yourself for things Dean did without you? Look at me, Sam. This is not your fault, and I won't have you saying it is."

Sam loved Lucifer, he loved him more than life itself, but he just didn't understand. This was Sam's fault and he was the one that would have to atone for what he'd set in motion.

"Sam," Lucifer probed when Sam didn't speak. "Please."

Sam couldn't lie to Lucifer, they had sworn never to lie to one another, so he stayed silent.

Lucifer saw his silence for what it was, and he sighed. "Do you regret your choice to come into the cage now?"

Sam shook his head. "No, never, I just regret the way I went about it. Maybe if I'd talked to him first, it would have been different."

"Do you really believe that?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know what I believe anymore. All I know is that I have to make things right for Dean."


Dean sat on the back porch of Bobby's place and he brought the bottle of whiskey to his lips. Taking a deep draw on the bottle, he sighed. He was thinking of Sam, and wondering how he was doing. He wanted to see him, but he didn't think Lucifer would be cool with him crashing their time together, especially when it was limited. Though there was a chance Lucifer wouldn't return to Heaven after everything that had happened.

He heard the door click open behind him, and he turned expecting to see Bobby or Castiel, or maybe Chuck who was still loitering around the house, but it was Sam standing there. The last time he had seen Sam he'd been drenched in his own blood and cradled in Lucifer's arms. He half expected him to look the same now, but Sam was clean and dressed in a fresh shirt and jeans, and looking robustly well. Dean breathed an internal sigh of relief. He hadn't believed Sam was okay until he saw him.

He scooted along the step so Sam could sit down. Sam sank gracefully onto the step, stretching his longs legs out in front of him.

Dean took another swig of whiskey and waited, sure a lecture about drinking from Sam was sure to follow, but none came. Instead, Sam reached over a tugged the bottle from Dean's hand and took a swig.

"Hell of a day," he said conversationally.

Dean huffed a laugh. "You can say that again."

Sam pushed a hand through his hair and looked out over the scrap yard.

"Where's Lucifer?" Dean asked.

"Inside," Sam said simply.

Dean nodded; he had known Lucifer had to be close if Sam was here. He was a little surprised Lucifer had let Sam out of his eye-line for even this long. His natural over-protectiveness had to have increased a hundredfold after what had happened.

"You okay?" Sam asked, breaking into Dean's thoughts.

"I'm pretty sure it should be me asking you that."

Sam shrugged. "I'm fine."

Dean sighed. "I know a little about torture, and I know you can't be fine after everything that she did to you, Sam."

Sam turned to look at his brother, and there was something in his eyes that made Dean sad. There was darkness there that Sam had no business touching. Dean knew that darkness as he saw it in his own eyes in the mirror every day since Hell. It was what happened after you experienced the knife.

"You really want me to talk about it?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. It had taken him a long time to admit to Sam he remembered Hell, and he had never found the strength to really talk about what he'd suffered there. He had no right to expect Sam to be able to talk about what he couldn't.

Sam took another swig from the bottle of whiskey then handed it back to Dean.

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in thought. Dean didn't know what Sam was thinking, but his thoughts were occupied with what Raphael had told him. She had said she was going to tell Sam what he had done after Sam had taken the dive. He hoped against hope that she had been lying or that, God forgive him, that Sam had been too out of it with pain to hear her. He didn't know how to ask without initiating a conversation about the very thing he was trying to hide. He didn't think she had told him. If she had, there was no way Sam would be sitting beside him sharing a bottle.

Sam leaned against the balustrade post and looked at Dean. "If there's something you want to know, Dean, just ask."

"How do you...?"

Sam smiled. "You've got that look on your face."

It was good to know that their connection hadn't severed enough that Sam couldn't read Dean anymore, but it was a pain in the ass that it had to manifest now when Dean was trying to avoid the subject.

Biting the bullet, he spoke up. "Raphael said she was going to tell you stuff..."

Sam nodded. "She told me a lot of things."

"About what I did?"

Sam turned so he was looking Dean full in the face. "She told me what I did to you."

Dean's brow furrowed with confusion. "What you did to me?" He couldn't think of anything Sam had done to him.

Sam rubbed at the back of his neck. "She told me what happened after I left."

Dean felt a prickling in his eyes. It was his worst fear confirmed; Sam knew. He would have given almost anything to have Sam remain oblivious. Now he knew, there was no way things could ever go back to the way they had been. One thing that didn't make sense was the fact Sam was still sitting beside him and not cringing away. Maybe she hadn't told him everything.

"What did she tell you?" Dean asked, scared of the answer.

"That after I left, you went down a dark road. That you changed." Sam looked him dead in the eyes. "I know it all, Dean."

Dean shook his head jerkily. "You can't know. You wouldn't be looking at me like that if you knew."

Sam turned away and looked out over the scrap-yard once again. "She told me about the arachne victims in Rhode Island. She told me about the woman used as a human shield, she told me about the family in Nebraska... Do you want me to go on?"

Dean felt like he had been sucker-punched in the gut. It wasn't all he had done, but it sounded like Sam had been given the full lowdown. He didn't want Sam to go on. He didn't want to hear a list of all the things he had done. The memories were bad enough to deal with alone.

"I don't understand," Dean said in a shaky voice. "How can you say it all like that? How can you even stand to be near me knowing what I have done?"

For a moment, Dean thought Sam was going to cry, but he merely drew a hitching breath and rubbed a hand over his face.

"I could ask you the same question. How can you stand to be near me after what I did to you?"

Dean's brow creased with confusion. "What did you do?"

"I did this to you. I left you to fight alone. I didn't think of what me leaving would do to you, and Dean..." He looked Dean dead in the eye. "I am so sorry. I know that doesn't even begin to make up for it, but you have to know, I never imagined me leaving would do that to you."

Dean was in shock. Not only did Sam know it all, but he was trying to blame himself for it. "Sammy, there's nothing to forgive," he said. "What I did, what happened to me, it wasn't your fault."

"If I'd been here..."

"If you'd been here, you would have been miserable," Dean said. "You were a wreck without Lucifer. I know that better than anyone. You can't live your life for someone else. You have to live it for yourself, and that's what you did. I made the choice to go it alone, and every bad choice that came after."

"Why did you do it?" Sam asked. "I understand the lines get a little blurry sometimes, but Raphael said you were on a mission. What were you trying to gain?"

Dean chewed his lip. He didn't want to tell Sam about his plan to earn himself a Hellbound ticket. Sam would take it as further cause to blame himself.

"Tell me," Sam said firmly.

Dean felt a lump building in his throat and he swallowed convulsively. "I wanted to see you again, Sam. I figured if I earned myself a ticket downstairs, I'd have a chance."

Though it was Dean that felt like he was going to make like a baby and start bawling his eyes out at any moment, it was Sam that broke. He bowed at the waist and fisted his hands in his hair. His breaths came in rasps and his shoulders shook.

"Sammy?" Dean reached out a tentative hand and laid it on his brother's shoulder.

Sam raised his head, and tears streamed down his face. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I didn't know... I never would have..."

"I know," Dean said gently. "It wasn't your fault."

Sam's face contorted, and for a moment, Dean thought Sam was going to slug him.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" he asked through gritted teeth. "I'm the one that did this to you!" He got to his feet and marched away through the stacks of junkers. Dean followed, but when he caught Sam's arm, Sam wrenched away from him and continued walking.

"Sam?" Dean called after him, but Sam merely waved a hand and disappeared around a stack of cars. Dean wanted to go after his brother, but he didn't know what he would say to him if he did. Sam obviously wanted to be alone, so Dean turned and sank down onto the porch steps again.

When Sam came back, he would be waiting.