Sympathy for the Devil
Chapter Seven
victorious1314
Warnings: See Chapter One
AU: Hello, Readers! I want to apologize to you all for my lack of updating on this story. I've been ridiculously busy trying to catch up with my schoolwork after being hospitalized in January. I've also been quite depressed and haven't had the energy to write. I'm very sorry about that. I'm really trying to push myself to write more. Anyways, for those of you who have stuck around, thank you. You are the reason I still find it in me to write 3
Sam's hazel eyes slowly open to reveal a large fan directly above him. The night sky behind the loud, slow moving fan looms almost omnisciently over the teen boy. Sam tries to lift his arms but finds that they are restricted by leather cuffs. He experimentally tries to move his feet, only to found that they are bound as well.
"Sammy, it's okay," Dean's voice assures, "You're in Bobby's Panic Room."
Sam struggles to lift his head for a few moments but eventually succeeds. He looks towards the direction of Dean's voice to see his older brother looking through a hatch on a large metal door across the room. Sam's breathing begins to pick up as he observes his situation more. The walls are covered in sigils and he strapped to a bed in the center of a Devil's Trap. Four small lights around the circle room cast dark shadows on the ground and onto Sam's body. Even though the cool night air bites at his skin, Sam breaks out in a sweat, his heart thumping like he just ran a marathon. Memories of Lucifer and demons torturing him flash through his mind.
"It's not real." He assures himself under his breath as Lucifer slowly approaches him from the shadows with a carving knife. Lucifer's figure slowly dissipates after he says the words and he falls back onto the bed with an exhausted sigh.
"We're just going to keep you here until we know what's going on. Dad ran off after you passed out. Probably going to get a drink," Dean laughs humorlessly, "He always has the best timing, huh?"
Dean watches his brother's form struggle to breathe and fights to keep himself from running to his side. Bobby told him this was the safest place for him now. No demons can enter and Sam will have time to get all of that demon... Dean can't force himself to finish the thought. The thought of his baby brother drinking that-stuff... it makes him feel physically ill. The flask... How long has this been going on? How many flasks have there been? Right underneath his fucking nose the whole time! Dean grinds his teeth in frustration. Lucifer was right about one thing, Dean was a shitty big brother.
Bobby watches silent, fresh tears drip down Dean's face. He's too young to be dealing with this... Hell there isn't an appropriate age for this situation. Sam's wheezing gasps can be heard through the ajar hatch and something twists in Bobby's gut. John should be here. Why did that fucker leave in the first place? Bobby opens his cell for what feels like the hundredth time in the past two hours since John left. He punches in John's cell number and sur-fucking-prise, straight to voice mail. He grumbles under his breath and closes the phone a little more forcefully than necessary. Yet again somebody else is left to take care of John Winchester's poor kids because the bastard's got 'more important' shit to do than be a goddamn father.
Several hours pass and Bobby has left Dean and Sam in the basement to search for lore in his study involving Lucifer. The Devil has been mentioned in just about every book on mythology ever written. But what they all saw earlier didn't have horns and a pitchfork. It appeared to be an average teen boy. Dean and Bobby agreed not to question Sam until John got back... the selfish bastard. Bobby flips an old, dusty page in a red velvet lined book that has to weigh forty pounds, at least. Images of a frightening creature with a goats head and legs are drawn throughout the book. None of this is making any sense to him. Why would the Devil take a liking to Sam Winchester? What was the plan that Michael and Lucifer were talking about? Bobby feels as if he is grasping at straws, trying to make sense of a senseless situation.
Downstairs, the lights begin to flicker above Sam. He knows this is a beginning symptom of withdrawal from demon blood. When Sam was around thirteen he tried to stop drinking it, he started violently hallucinating within six hours. In the end, he caved, not wanting to risk Dean or his Dad witnessing his breakdown. Sam lifts his head to look at the closed hatch with a menacing glare as if Dean could receive it. What is their plan? Where the hell is dad? Sam's body begins trembling and breaks out in a cold sweat, he must be approaching the sixth hour or so. He growls and throws his head back onto the damp pillow.
Dean cradles his head in his hands. Where the fuck is John? His brother is suffering and he can't do anything about it. Is this from the blood? He wants to give him time to get it out of his system, but what if he needs it? What if Sam needs the fucking demon blood to survive? Dean opens the hatch and grimaces as his brother arches his body, shakes, and whines from some invisible source of agony. Dean slams the hatch closed and paces back and forth in the dank basement. He can't stand this! Where the fuck is John? Dean drives his fist into the stone wall, the pain from his split knuckles somewhat grounding him.
John slams his car door shut and struggles to walk upright towards Bobby's house. Bobby immediately charges out of the front door and storms up to John, his eyes wide and furious. "Where in the hell have you been you, idjit?" Bobby booms, "Do you have any idea how much I want to shoot you right now?"
John lazily notices a shotgun gripped in Bobby's hands, that seem to be itching to fire it. "I needed some time alone, Bobby." John slurs. Dean bursts through the screen door, having heard the Impala's door close from the depths of the basement.
"Dad, are you kidding me?" Dean shouts, "Where have you been? Me and Sam needed you and you just ran off!" Dean's bloody fist drips slowly onto the dark ground. The sound of crickets chirping seems to come at the trio from all directions of the salvage yard.
John pushes past the two and stomps up the steps of Bobby's porch. He flings open the squeaky door and throws himself onto the couch, running his calloused hands through his short, graying hair. Dean daringly grabs the collar of John's leather jacket and pulls him off of the couch. "You went and got drunk while you're son was hurt?" Dean spins around and pushes John backwards, sending him tumbling onto the floor with a grunt, "You asshole!"
John is up in an instant, despite his apparent intoxication. He pushes Dean back who knocks over a small pile of books, "Watch yourself, boy! My son is a monster."
Dean is taken aback for several moments from the pure hatred in his father's voice whilst he spoke of his younger son. Dean straightens himself and fires back, "Don't you dare talk about my brother like that," poison drips off of every word he speaks, "You are a poor excuse for a father."
John's face turns to stone at his eldest's accusation. Bobby watches from the door frame with mild satisfaction from Dean's honesty.
Suddenly, the night air is pierced by horrendous wails. John's heart begins to race, all of his thoughts of disgust for Sam, vanishing, and his mind becomes instantly clear and sobered. Dean is thundering down the basement stairs before he can even form any coherent thoughts. Bobby and John on his heels. Dean flings open the hatch and watches his little brother in horror.
Lucifer begins peeling the skin from Sam's chest, slowly and methodically. "Hmmm, I think I'm getting better at this." He muses cheerfully. Each strip of flesh makes a wet sound as it hits the concrete floor below them. Sam screams for all his life's worth. He strains against the leather cuffs that Lucifer strapped him in violently, the skin slowly chaffing away, layer by layer. "No! No, please! Stop, I'll do anything! Gah-" Sam shrieks as Lucifer begins slicing away at the muscles after he has stripped off all of the skin. Blood pools around the bed and makes Sam's back stick to the previously white sheets. He briefly wonders how he isn't dead yet but all thoughts disappear as Lucifer begins carving at him again.
Sam screams like he's being butchered. Dean begins fumbling to open the door to snap his brother out of it but is stopped by Bobby pulling him roughly away from the steel door. "He could be faking it." Bobby tries to reason.
"Faking it? Why would he be faking it?" Dean cries. Standing in another room while his Sammy is in pain is going against his every instinct as a big brother. Bobby grips Dean by the shoulders to anchor him to the spot after the nineteen year old attempts to open the door again.
"He could be tricking you into opening the door, so he ca-" Bobby is cut short by John who unlocks the door with shaking hands. "John!" Bobby calls out, but both of the older Winchesters begin barreling into the room, towards Sam. John starts unlatching the leather straps on Sam's wrists while Dean holds Sam's face and begins shouting at his brother, trying to get him to open his eyes and stop screaming. Bobby sighs and rushes over to open the cuffs on Sam's ankles. Once all of the leather straps are undone, John joins Dean and tries to get Sam to snap out of whatever sickening trance he's in.
All of a sudden, Sam's eyes open. His screams stop immediately and everyone lets out a collective sigh of relief. Just as Dean opens his mouth to reassure Sam, Sam's eyes roll back into his head and his body tenses up. He begins foaming at the mouth but before John, Dean, or Bobby can respond, he shoots up into the air, hitting the metal screen that covers the giant metal fan.
"Oh my god," John breathes. "G-Get him down!" Dean hollers, "We have to get him down!"
Sam begins rolling on the ceiling, his body seems to be jerking in every direction. He keeps rolling and defying gravity until he reaches the top of a wall that's covered in sigils and his Dad yanks him down. John lays his son on the ground and finds his vision suddenly burred by tears. He pulls off his belt and ties Sam's arms against his chest. Bobby holds Sam's legs down to keep him from flying up onto the ceiling again.
Dean backs away slowly, his whole body trembling, until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he sits down. How have they gotten to this? Just yesterday he was going to help Bobby fix up a pickup truck. Now he's watching his father and Bobby tie Sam down to prevent him from hurting himself during his demonic seizure. Finally, Sam falls limp onto the cold floor.
Sam's mind is blank, he can't feel anything at all. This is, perhaps, the first time in years he has slept without any interruptions from the Devil.