Abaddon vanished.
"Dean. Just as I last saw you. Bloodied and helpless. Things never really change, do they?" The eyes were soft and questioning; the ultimate lie.
Dean grit his teeth, pulling at his bonds. "Change is overrated."
The devil smiled. "And you'd know, wouldn't you? You've done well, Dean. The CROATOAN virus? Eradicated. Castiel? An angel once more. And Sam, free of me."
The eldest Winchester's eyes were an endless pit of hatred for the nightmare he'd narrowly avoided. "Looks like you lost, Luci."
The grin deepened. "Not quite. You see, as promised, here we are. Together. And you are at my mercy, Dean."
"Ah, but you ain't wearing Sam to the prom, dick!"
The eyes flashed, and for an instant, Dean could have sworn they turned black. "Well, you see, Dean, I don't need dear brother's permission anymore."
All of the color drained from Dean's face.
"When I was in the cage with Sammy, I had, for the first time in eternity, flesh to handle. A human—an abomination of God's own design—to torment. With each blade in his tender body, each mark on his flayed soul, I felt my grace twist into ringlets of smoke. Hour by hour, the pain of blackening fed my torture. He was a soldier, honestly, to endure for so long. And by the time your sweet angel buddy dragged his body back to waking, the process was complete."
Dean swallowed. "You became a demon."
Lucifer laughed. "No, Dean, I became the devil the entire world has feared I was since the beginning of time. And now—" He snapped his fingers, and a perfect white suit appeared on Sam's unconscious body, tailored elegantly to his back, his long legs, his heaving chest. The silken tie about his neck seemed more a noose than a classic adornment.
"In case you don't remember how this story ends," Lucifer taunted from the frayed lips of his old vessel.
But Dean was thinking of another story. One that ended with a burn on another man's arm. The sacrifice and slaughter.
"Take me," he said, as the devil knelt by Sam's limp form.
The former angel looked up. "Naturally you'd do anything to save him, but I'm sorry Dean. You are not my true vessel."
"Michael took Adam for his vessel when he couldn't have me. I am Adam's brother. It's a double edged sword. Take me. Possess me, you son of a bitch!" Jaw tight, Dean looked up into the eyes of Hell.
He laughed. "And why would I take second best, hmm?" he gripped Sam's chin, "When I can have my blood-drunk little warrior? Er, big warrior."
"How do you know you won't destroy him?" Dean spat, "You're tainted now, and his blood is clean. But mine . . . mine is the blood of Cain."
Lucifer's eyes gleamed with interest. "Is that so?" he stood up and moved to Dean's side, where he pulled back the plaid sleeve to reveal the mark. "That kind of power is tempting."
"Please," Dean pleaded, his voice dropping into desperation. "Sam's had his share of Hell. Let him go home."
"Ah, and haven't you had your share, as well?"
Dean thought of Kevin. Of Castiel under Metatron's blade. Of Bobby. Jo and Ellen. My fault. For all of it.
"Never."
