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Year Thirty

It's just a sensation.

Control it.

Push it aside.

Lock it away.

It's just a sensation.

It's your body reacting to something, that's all.

Just a feeling.

Pain is just a feeling.

Lucifer sighed as he picked up on Sam's thoughts. Letting the lighter lick at the edges of his wrist, the Devil pulled it back before Sam's skin started to bubble and put a finger on his chin thoughtfully.

"You know, Sam, I'm starting to think that's actually a good method of coping."

Sam forced himself to exhale slowly, ignoring the burning sensation on his forearm. He was hoping that Lucifer wouldn't find out. Or at least, not until later.

Ever since Adam and he had gotten separated, Sam found that he no longer had to be strong for anyone except himself. Adam, even with the short time they'd known each other, had looked up to him. Sam didn't allow himself to scream when Adam was there. Sam had made himself strong, but when Lucifer took that away Sam had to come up with a new method to deal.

So he accepted it, he held onto his pain but didn't let it control him.

Yet now, Lucifer wanted to take even that from him. Sam wouldn't let him. Lucifer had tortured him every which way imaginable, yet still each new day brought some new form of torture. But Sam still refused to break. He refused to give in and scream, he hadn't screamed in twenty years. Screaming was a way of defeat, of letting his pain get the better of him. And Sam wouldn't allow that.

"Still not talking, I see?" Lucifer pondered. "Don't worry, Sammy, I'm sure I can condition that out of you."

Sam flinched on the inside. Conditioning sounded painful, and he doubted that it had to do with his hair. "Go to hell," he spat.

Lucifer threw his arms up in surprise. "He speaks! Tell me Sam, how we feeling today?"

Sam just stared defiantly at Lucifer, raising his head a little as a silent challenge. The Devil shook his head and tossed the lighter onto a tray of tools by his side. Running his fingers over the sharp instruments, Lucifer paused over a scalpel, then shook his head and frowned. He wanted pure brutality for this.

A large meat tenderizer caught his eye, and Lucifer smiled. He clasped it with one hand and lifted it up easily. "This will do perfectly," he said quietly.

The concrete room they were in was silent for a moment, and Sam could hear the far off sounds of Michael screaming. He didn't know exactly where Lucifer had zapped Michael or Adam to, but he knew they had to still be in the Cage. Lucifer had spouted something about pocket universes, but whatever it was, Sam could still hear their pain.

"Are you ever going to be done with him?" Sam asked, tired of listening to Michael's constant screams.

At this, Lucifer looked genuinely confused. "I don't see how I could ever 'be done.' I've barely gotten started."

Sam frowned. His morbid curiosity had been peaked, and anything that could delay his own pain was welcome. "What are you doing to him?"

"Right now?" Lucifer tilted his head slightly, thinking. "Right now, Michael's getting his wings trimmed."

Thoughts flashed through Sam's mind, dredging up the last memories he had of Michael. Lucifer had been 'playing,' as he put it, with the archangel's wings, telling Michael that he was going to end up just like Lucifer in the end.

"You're still torturing him like that." Sam stated.

"What else would I be doing?" Lucifer chuckled. "But you see, Sammy, an angel's wings are so much more than mere appendages. It's a direct representation of our Grace. It could be compared to a soul, if you will. To destroy an angel's wings is to rip apart their very selves."

"How can you still be twisting his wings after however many years?"

"Twenty-seven. Twenty-seven beautiful years you've been tortured by yours truly, and yet. And yet! You still have a little fight left in you. Tell me Sammy, what's the big secret?"

Lucifer smiled and spun the tenderizer in his hand before cracking it down on Sam's ankle. Sam tensed at the unexpected pain, feeling his bones shatter through his skin. "Ah, yes. Your little 'pain is just a feeling' trick, eh?"

Sam let out a strained breath. It's nothing more than a sensation.

Lucifer hefted the weight again and ran a finger over the dull edge, smearing a spot of blood. "Just a feeling." He said quietly.

A deadly light gleamed in his eyes as Lucifer whipped the metal at Sam's stomach, watching the boy convulse in agony. Sam bit down on his tongue, trying to stop whimpers of pain from escaping his throat.

"It's just a feeling," Lucifer mocked, slamming the tenderizer at his other ankle, watching blood spurt out of the ripped flesh.

"Nothing more than a sensation." Another blow to the stomach. Sam tasted blood.

"Control it." He could see his own ribs.

"Lock it away." A kneecap shattered.

"It's just a feeling."

And so it continued, hours upon hours of unadulterated pain. Lucifer continued to use Sam's words against him, scorning the Winchester and brutally beating him within an inch of his life. Using every phrase that Sam had ever thought to control his pain, Lucifer would follow up with a brutal blow from the hammer, watching the boy struggle underneath him.

Lucifer had begun to lose track of exactly how much time had passed. His blood was boiling, all he could see was this pathetic human before him, this broken thing that was somehow his, his to play with as he pleased. The sound of metal against bone filled the room, again and again along with the barely-restrained cries of his pet.

Sam's eyes rolled back in his head as the eventual blood loss caught up to him. He slumped against the table, sagging in his restraints.

Lucifer stared down at his unconscious vessel. Sam had lasted a lot longer than he had initially thought he would, but everybody had their breaking point. Apparently, Sam's was having his ribcage caved in. Who knew?

Lucifer stepped back, watching blood drip from the hammer onto the floor. The small pattering sounds cleared his mind a little, and he threw the tenderizer onto the tray. It clattered loudly, yet Sam didn't move. He was really out of it. Normally, Lucifer would wake him up immediately, or prevent him from going unconscious in the first place, however this time he had a few other things to deal with first.

Casting one last curious look at the boy, a dark pleasure swam through the Devil's eyes. Then he soundlessly disappeared from the dank concrete room.

Sam groaned as he came into consciousness, fighting his way through a haze of sleep. Instinctively bracing himself for any sort of pain, Sam found himself confused when none came to him. He forced his eyes open.

Immediately, he recognized the absence of his torturer, even if Sam couldn't exactly see. The room was pitch black, yet Sam could somehow feel the fact that Lucifer wasn't there. In fact, he wasn't even tied down, and he cautiously sat up. Running his hands over his healed body, Sam frowned. Was this one of Satan's tricks, or perhaps he was getting a temporary reprieve?

No. Lucifer didn't let Sam have breaks. It was continuous, one new torture straight after another. So what the hell was going on here?

Or maybe he was just blind.

That last thought sent Sam into a panic, and he reached up to touch his eyes. Yes, they were open, but he didn't exactly feel blind. However, does a blind person really feel blind themselves? Sam had no idea. For now, he was just going to have to deal with it.

Maybe there was something in the darkness. Sam shuddered, drawing his legs closer to him. He felt exposed, not knowing what was going to happen next or why. The room somehow had gotten a hundred times bigger, Sam's imagination conjuring up things in the dark, and he blindly grasped for something, anything to hold on to.

His hand clattered against a metal object and he flinched at the cool contact before recognizing what it was. Sam eagerly pulled the tray towards him, fingers flying over the sharp tools. He knew they were the very instruments of torture that Lucifer had used on him, but in this situation, they would be doubling as weapons for his self-defence.

Sam quickly identified a long knife, hammer and nails, as well as a few other tools and gathered them around him. He had to feel his way to the edge of the large table, and he swung his feet over the edge. Letting himself drop down, Sam ran his hands over the flat surface and shoved the nails in his pocket and the hammer in his belt. The rest of his weapons, he stashed at various places on his person.

Half-crouching, with one hand outstretched, Sam slowly started forward towards the nearest wall. He took slow, measured steps, expecting something to come attack him at any second. But none came. Sam made it to the concrete wall without incident.

Sam fumbled at his pockets for the nails. Finding one and placing it at the wall, Sam brought up the hammer and swung. The nail easily bit deep into the concrete- almost too easily. Sam frowned. The Cage was supposedly impenetrable, yet that nail had broken through the concrete like it was nothing. Although, Lucifer had probably manipulated his surroundings into something he wanted. So this obviously wasn't what the real Cage looked like.

Whatever it was, it had to be good enough for now.

Sam continued to walk the perimeter of the room, trailing his hand along the wall. All four walls felt the same, with no difference expect for the fact that one of them had a nail stuck in it for reference. Sam started to lose track of how long he'd been walking for, searching blindly for any sort of difference, but there was none. Every inch was perfectly smooth, not a crack or chip marring the surface.

Defeated, Sam slumped against the wall underneath the nail. There was nothing except for the table in the centre of the room. Not even a door, although he supposed that Lucifer could just zap himself to wherever he needs to go whenever he wants.

Sam didn't think he'd drifted off before he was awoken by a blinding light shining straight on his face. He squinted at it, raising his hands to cover his eyes.

Or at least, he tried to.

His hands were tied back down. He was on the table again.

No, no, no nononono-

Not again, this can't be happening again-

"It's just a sensation."

The voice sounded loudly in his ear, but Sam barely registered it. He violently flinched away, so used to having pain follow those words that he couldn't control his body tensing up in expectation. He could almost feel the tenderizer coming down on him, breaking his ribs and caving in his lungs-

Lucifer cackled, walking in circles around the terrified Winchester. "Now that's what I like to see! Behavioral training, check. Looks like all those hours with that hammer paid off. What's next?"

The Devil stopped next to Sam and leaned against the table, mimicking checking a list. "Ah, yes." He cast a sly glance at the struggling boy.

"Let's take a look at those pretty teeth of yours, shall we?"