Sympathy for the Devil
Chapter Two
victorious1314
Warnings: See Chapter One
P.S. Thank you so much for the kind reviews, I love reading them!
- Four Years Later -
The pounding in Sam's head is what shakes him from his deep slumber. A teenaged Lucifer watches as his future vessel wipes the sleep from his eyes and groans when the harsh beams of sunlight coming from the window assault his eyes. On the other bed, Dean stirs slightly, the small noise from his younger brother disturbing his light sleep. Sam takes note of this and creeps into the bathroom with his duffel bag and Lucifer on his heels. The boy doesn't meet Lucifer's eyes as he brings his metal flask up to his lips, because he knows exactly what he'd see on his tormentors face, utter satisfaction. The now cool liquid slips past Sam's parted lips and he shudders at the metallic and slightly sweet taste. The thick, crimson drink slides down his throat and Sam immediately feels the effects. His headache lessens until it is no more and the sensation of mind-blowing power fills him.
Lucifer lets out a breathy laugh and says, "You might want to slow down there Sammy, that has to last the week." Sam hears the Devil's reasoning and reluctantly screws the metal cap back on before a scowl settles on his face. Sam picks up the sound of the springs creaking from Dean's bed with his freshly heightened senses and quickly tucks the flask into the bottom of his bag.
Sam brushes his teeth to scrub the red stains from his mouth and grimaces at the red tinted spit in the sink. He showered the night prior so he simply washes his face and combs his hair out. Upon exiting the bathroom Sam sees that Dean is just getting out of his lumpy motel bed.
"Early start, short stuff?" Dean teases in a groggy voice and Sam simply glares at him. Dean enters the bathroom and Sam changes into a gray sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans. John is out on a hunt involving a large pack of werewolves, leaving his sons in a motel in a small town in New Hampshire. The hunt is expected to last around two months and Sam and Dean have been on their own for about two weeks so far. Everytime they move, Sam is filled with the illogical hope that maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't find him again. However everytime he is proved wrong. It took less then five days in the new town for the demons to find Sam. He had been walking home from school, the fallen orange and brown leaves crunching under his sneakers, when a pair of arms pulled him into a alleyway. Sam had let out a yelp of surprise but didn't fight back, knowing what was about to happen all too well. A bulky man wearing an orange construction worker's uniform pinned him up against the brick wall. Lucifer smirked from over the man's shoulder as his eyes previously brown eyes turned fully black.
Sam gritted his teeth in longing as the demon pulled a familiar looking metal flask from the inside of his jacket. Robotically Sam handed the monster his now empty flask and the man snatched it away. He handed Sam the full one dutifully and smiled cruelly, "Drink up kid, we need you big and strong."
Even if the fifteen year old wanted to say, 'no,' Sam knew he would be punished for his disobedience. The man gave him one last fleeting look of amusement before sauntering off to god knows where. Sam had then continued his day as if nothing had happened.
Since then Sam had gotten one other refill of the damned liquid and despite his hatred for the substance, his addiction to it grew stronger with every treacherous sip. Dean drives Sam and himself in the Impala to the local High School that they had just recently enrolled in. The big brick building looms over them and casts a shadow over the busy courtyard. Students chat with their friends as the brothers approach and Dean claps a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam barely conceals a flinch but Dean doesn't notice, his eyes glued to the ass of Darcy Miles, the head cheerleader.
"Meet me by the statue after school, okay Sammy?" Dean says authoritatively but Sam is looking off into the distance, his vision swaying slightly and his blood feeling hot. Sam knows that his powers must have become this unmanageable because he drank that much demon blood in one sitting. "-Sammy!" Dean's voice cuts through his thoughts like a razor blade.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll meet you there," Sam waves his hand dismissively at his big brother's obvious concern. He walks away and disappears into the crowd of students before Dean can hold him there and ask him more questions.
"Are you sure you'll be able to sit through all of your classes in this state?" Lucifer asks playfully. Sam grunts in response but continues trudging towards his first class nonetheless. His Freshman biology teacher drawls on and on about the mitochondria for the better part of the period before abruptly stopping to shoot Sam a sharp look, "Samuel, if you can't pay attention then I'll have to ask you to leave. This is a warning."
Sam keeps shaking his leg and twirling his pencil between his fingers nervously, it's never been this bad before. Visions of blood, gore, and hellfire flash through his mind as Lucifer throws firecrackers onto the floor, causing Sam to jump out of his seat. All eyes land on him and a he breaks out in a cold sweat. "I-I have to-" Sam is cut off as another vision tears through his mind and he sprints out the door in an instant. Only a hall monitor idles in the hallway but says nothing as Sam makes a B-line for the restroom.
A dark skinned boy adjusts his glasses in the mirror and looks at Sam nervously as he takes in the boy's disheveled state. Meathooks hang from the ceiling and Sam hears the distant sound of agonized screams. "H-Hey, aren't you Dean Winchester's brother? Do you need me to get him?" The boy asks who he now recognizes as his friend's younger brother. When the kid doesn't respond and instead looks off into the distance with a horrified expression he makes the decision on his own and bolts out the door to find Dean.
Sam looks as his reflection with terror as his face morphs into something unrecognizable and the glass cracks violently. Meanwhile the older boy named, George, sprints back into his classroom. His eyes land on Dean and before he can get any words out, Dean's expression changes to understanding and fear, "Where is he?"
Dean's heart beats wildly in his chest as he follows George into the restroom down the hall to see Sam unconscious on the floor. Dean pulls his unconscious brother into his arms and yells for George to get the nurse. When his friend doesn't move he looks up to see him staring at a large crack in the glass of the mirror. "George! Get the nurse!" Dean shouts again and his friend is broken from his trance in an instant, rushing out the door. He cradles Sam's head in his lap and feels for a pulse, praying desperately for his baby brother to be alright. Dean's breath catches in his throat when he feels a pulse so sped up, that it seems inhuman.
Dean quickly banishes the terrifying thought and pushes his brother's sweaty hair from his eyes. "Sammy, please wake up. Please be okay." He pleads, a lump straining his throat. After a few seconds Sam gasps and his eyes fly open, settling on his horrified big brother. "D-De-?" Sam mumbles.
"Oh thank god. What happened Sammy? Did somebody do this to you? I'll rip their lungs out!" Dean practically growls. Lucifer giggles madly and makes blood pour from the walls. Sam squeezes his eyes shut and moves to sit up. Dean supports his back and rubs soothing circles on his shoulder with his thumb.
"I-I don't know what happened. I felt sick and I came in here to throw up but I guess I fell down." Sam has tears glistening in his eyes, he hates lying to his brother. Dean nods and pulls Sam into a gentle hug. The nurse enters and Sam immediately rolls his eyes.
About an hour later Sam is laying on the nurses bed, holding in his vomit because he knows it will all be traitorous demon blood. Dean is talking to the middle aged blonde nurse in the other room and Lucifer is humming a tune Sam doesn't recognize. It's baffling for Sam to think that there was a time he considered Satan his friend, someone who didn't just want to use him as a pawn and turn him into the very monster him and his family hunt, someone who cared for him.
Sam can pinpoint the exact moment he knew Lucifer was using him in his memory. It was a foggy, spring afternoon in Idaho. Sam had just turned twelve and was walking home from school without Dean because he was on a hunt with their father. Goosebumps rose on Sam's flesh, even though it was quite warm out despite the fog. A van pulled up along side where he was walking and a million defense mechanisms that he had learned from his father and Dean popped into his head. Besides the van and Sam the street was otherwise empty so help from strangers wasn't an option. Even though Sam was only one hundred pounds and five and half feet tall, he knew he could pack a mean punch if he had to, and he had the sickening feeling he would have to rising in him.
He tensed as the side door slid open and a man with a scruffy beard and a police uniform walked towards him. Confusion filled Sam as the uniformed officer of the law stopped before him. Police officers were supposed to be safe, weren't they?
The man finally spoke in a gritty voice, "Now we can either do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way, you little shit." His eyes suddenly flashed black and Sam found himself paralyzed with fear. Having never seen a demon before, Sam knew that his best bet would be to run away and not try to fight the monster whom he'd never encountered before. He turned on his heels and got a few steps before an invisible force held him in place. His breathing grew erratic as he noticed Lucifer was watching the scene unfold before him as if it was entertainment. Sam felt his demonic powers grow and thrash inside of him and he unsuccessfully tried to break free from the demon's hold. Then everything went black.
Sam woke up, tied to a chair in a darkened room. The same demon in the police uniform had his back turned to him but a new demon with equally dark eyes and a shaved head watched him intently. "He's waking up," the bald demon said with a sigh. The demon possessing the police officer turned around with a knife in his hand. Sam started fighting like a mad man against his bonds.
"Shhh, Sammy, just relax," the demon said as he brought the knife to his lips, "Everything is going to be fine. We're just here following orders, we need to make you strong enough the lead us when the time comes."
Confusion filled Sam's mind until bitter realization dawned upon him. Lucifer had told him that the demons, including Azazael, believed that it was his destiny to simply led their demon army as a general and eventually take the throne. Only Lilith, a few more upperclass demons, and the angels, knew of Sam's true destiny to become Lucifer's vessel. Sam felt slight satisfaction over the fact that he knew more than these bastards. The demon's proceeded to tell him of his 'destiny' and Sam had to stifle his laughter on more than one occasion. The knife-wielding demon suddenly slit his own wrist open and pushed the dripping wound against Sam's sealed mouth. The wound suddenly heals and the demon backs away, "I was hoping you'd do that," he says darkly.
The demons spend the next hour or so beating and torturing the twelve year old boy until Sam was a sobbing, bloody mess. His face swelled gruesomely, blood seeping from his nose and mouth steadily, arms and legs broken, patches of skin missing and cut, back freshly flayed with blood pouring from the wounds, and not a single area on his flesh left unbruised. The bald demon chants something that Sam can barely hear and all of a sudden, the pain disappeared and he was sitting upright again. Sam looks around to see the recently blood soaked floor clean, along with his clothes. He looks at the demons in shock and Lucifer bursts out laughing beside him.
The demon reslices his wrist and brings it up to Sam's gaping mouth, "Now are you going to be a good little boy, or are we going to have to do that again?" Without another thought, Sam latches on the monster's wrist and drinks greedily from the wound. The demon's dropped him off back on the now pitch black street and just as Sam started walking away, traumatized and strangely giddy from the power surging through his veins, he heard a gruff voice shout, "Hey Kid!" he turned around just as his backpack was thrown to the ground at his feet, "I packed you a little something. We'll be seeing you real soon, Sammy."
Sam watched the black van drive off and picked up his bag with his violently shaking hands to open it up. On the top of his folders and books, lay a simple metal flask.
Now all Sam can do is glare at Lucifer with complete and utter hatred as the blond boy hums and kicks his legs back and forth on the infirmary bed.
Dean stares at the nurse, dumbfounded. "Drugs?" he says irredicously, "You're saying my little brother is on drugs?" The nurse sighs and looks at the older sibling pitifully, "I'm saying that his heart rate is ridiculously high and his pupils are so dilated, his eyes almost look black," she stares at the obviously terrified boy with sadness evident on her features, "Look, I can see you really care about your brother and would do anything to protect him so I'm going to let you walk out of here with him, take this as a warning. I won't bring the police into it because I know your father is out of town, am I correct?" Dean nods and she continues, "I know putting this incident on Sam's record would be detrimental to your family, so I'm going to let this slide. But if I ever see him in here again, I won't hesitate to bring the law enforcement into this, do you understand me?" Dean thanks the woman profusely, all the while wondering what the hell is going on with his baby brother.
Sam and Dean drive in the Impala in tense silence. Dean's hands gripped so tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles are white and Sam looking out the window, desperately trying to ignore Lucifer's taunts. Once the brother's step inside the hotel room and Sam sets his backpack on his bed, Dean looses it.
"Drugs, Sam? Drugs? Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell were you thinking taking goddamn drugs?" Dean pushes Sam back a few feet and Sam looks at Dean with tired eyes and an expression that seems too old to be on a fifteen year old's face, "Dean, I'm not on drugs."
Dean scoffs, "Oh really, because the nurse sure as hell seemed to think so!" Sam closes his eyes briefly, Dean's yelling making his head ache, "Well she was wrong, I've never even touched drugs before," Sam tries to assure his livid brother. The older boy tugs at the ends of his dirty blond hair in frustration, "Well then what the hell happened?"
Sam sighs and runs a hand over his face, "I already told you, Dean. I felt sick so I ran to the bathroom to throw up and then I passed out. That's all that happened." Dean grits his teeth and crosses his arms over his chest stubbornly, "Then how can you explain your heart rate and eyes, Sam? And don't feed me that, 'the nurse was wrong,' bullshit. I felt your pulse when you were passed out and it was all over the place."
Sam lowered his tired body on the bed and placed his heavy head in his hands and said, "I honestly don't know Dean. All I know is that I'm really sick and all this yelling is making my head feel like it's going to explode." Dean's expression immediately changes into a look of concern and Sam feels even more sick to his stomach for using Dean's overprotectiveness against him. A half an hour later Sam is sleeping soundly in bed and Dean pulls out his cell phone, dialing his dad's number. He didn't believe Sam's story for a second and knows if he's going to get anywhere with his little brother, he would need his father to back him up.
A heavy feeling settles in Dean's stomach when his dad's voicemail picks up. John never misses a phone call from Dean unless something is very wrong. Dean decides he needs to take matters into his own hands and walks as silently as he can towards Sam's duffel bag. Sam jerks in his sleep but simply rolls over onto his stomach and resumes lightly snoring. Dean grabs the bag and brings it over to the couch where he opens the zipper as slowly and quietly as he can. Once the bag is open Dean doesn't know what to look for. A pipe? A bag of weed? He begins searching the bag, pushing clothes and toiletries out of the way. His heart stops when his fingers brush against something hard and cold. He pulls a plain metal flask with a small amount of sloshing liquid inside out of the duffel. He frowns, Sam didn't seem drunk.
He unscrews the cap and sniffs the liquid. His stomach lurches and he drops the flask onto the floor with a 'thump.' Blood pours from the flask onto the floor and soaks into the carpet. Dean looks over at his brother's previously sleeping form to find him sitting up and looking at him with horror etched into his face. Neither of them breathe and Sam jumps when Dean's phone begins ringing. Dean swallows thickly and shakingly flips his phone open and holds it against his ear.
"Dean?" His father's voice calls out. Dean breaks eye contact with his brother and relies hoarsely, "Y-yeah, it's me."
"Good, Dean I need you and your brother to get over here immediately, it's an emergency. I don't have time to explain, just get over here." John says frantically. Dean immediately springs into action and begins packing weapons into a bag, "Where are you? We're leaving now." Sam audibly gasps and starts putting on his shoes. John gives Dean the address of where to come find him. As Sam and Dean get into the Impala he says, "I have to go now, get your and your brother's asses over here, now!" Dean pulls out of the motel parking lot and begins driving so fast he would be immediately arrested if he were to be pulled over.
The demon possessing John Winchester smirks as he hangs up the phone and turns to the others, "They'll be here soon, then we can have a little fun with our, 'Boy King.'"