A/N! So, here is chapter 5! Thank you all for reading the story! Special thanks to "FabinaForever11", for making my day with her meaningful and great comments! Also, a huge thanks to my lovely beta-reader "Geekyfangirl131" for her help with this chapter!
WARNING: Mentions of breaking bones, pain, and blood. Also, there are mentions of past abuse, past torture and past trauma. Because I chose not to forget them, like the show did.
Hope you'll enjoy! A/N!
Chapter 5: "Enter Sammy..."
NOW...
Dean's teeth were chattering and he could see his breath crystallizing every time he would exhale. The air around him was now cold and a thin layer of ice was coating the floor. The pool of whiskey and blood was frozen as well, and Dean could swear that the cold which he could feel creeping within his body was turning his own blood into ice. The only positive outcome of Lucifer's new game, was that Dean's leg was numb, the bleeding had stopped along with the pain. But Dean craved for the pain to come and break the focus of his mind. He needed an excuse to drag his tired eyes away from the sight they were beholding.
Sam's hands were still immobilized, and now both of them were stretched high above his head, shackled to the heavy chains which were hooked on the ceiling. His torn lips were quivering and his teeth were clattering so hard, Dean was positive they could break to pieces. His bare feet were touching the thin layer of ice which lingered on the floor and all around Sam's figure, frozen drops of blood had stained the surface. Sharp shards of ice, shaped like needles, were in between Sam's legs, keeping them apart while at the same time tearing the already wasted jeans the young man was wearing.
Lucifer was absorbed in his work. He was creating large pieces of ice and he was trapping Sam's limbs within them. The cubes, even though they were large were not very thick, but Dean couldn't understand the reason why. All he could see, was the ice which started from Sam's ankle and was progressing slowly, yet steadily, enclosing Sam's left leg, circling around it like a vine, higher and higher, freezing the blood, making Sam lose all control over his leg. Lucifer let his eyes linger on his work for a second and when the ice cube had reached Sam's left thigh, the archangel moved a few inches and shackled Sam's right ankle in an icy ring. He then expanded it, following the same procedure as before.
Only this time he went slower and Dean could hear Sam's pained inhales as the ice moved upwards. Low shrieks and moans emerged from the depths of Sam's throat and Dean could tell that he was feeling thousands of needles penetrating his skin, as it came in touch, and then it was trapped within the ice cube. To Dean it felt like years, but finally, when both of Sam's legs were immobilized and numb, Lucifer paused and took many steps backwards, reaching Dean. The Devil stood next to the hunter and let his gaze roam over Sam's trembling frame. "Beautiful? Isn't he?" Lucifer asked, addressing towards Dean.
The green eyed man said nothing, careful to keep his eyes on Sam's bowed head. "You must be wondering, why the ice is not thick. That's because if it were, then I wouldn't really enjoy the next part." The Devil continued, voice sickly excited. Dean swallowed hard, eyes watering. "Please..." "Please, what Dean?" Lucifer questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Please what?" Dean paused, eyes taking in, Sam's torn body.
His wrists were cut from the shackles, his chest carved by Lucifer's knife, his ribs cracked to the point where Dean could make out Lucifer's knuckles. As for his legs, they were held apart by needle-like shards of ice, which were in between them, and they were both trapped in separate, large ice cubes which began at Sam's ankles and ended at his thighs. As for his back, it was nothing else but a mass of bloody meat, whipped to the point where, Sam's bones could be seen. Lucifer had stopped the bleeding so that he could chain up Sam's free hand, but he hadn't healed the wounds, he himself had inflicted.
"Please... Get done with it." Dean croaked, turning his face away from Sam and towards Lucifer, eyeing his capture for the first time in a long while. "Oh, but I will get it done Dean. In a while. As you know, my son will soon be here and I would really like to be the first one to hold him. You know, being his dad and all." The Devil announced happily, patting Dean on the shoulder. The hunter flinched and swiftly moved away. "Come on now Dean, don't give me the cold shoulder!" Lucifer complained, waving his hands. "But I guess it really is cold in here so..." Dean could only clench his fingers into fists. "See what I did there? With the word 'cold' and with... Ah, you don't appreciate sarcasm, do you?" The Devil sounded disappointed.
Silence coated the room then, broken only by the occasional moans which would escape Sam's lips. "You are wondering why the ice isn't that thick, am I right?" Lucifer asked after a few minutes. Dean stayed still, eyeing his brother. "Well, that's because I want to enjoy the next part." The Devil explained yet again, as he moved towards the nearby wall, taking a hold of Dean's wooden bat, which was hanging there. "Nice toy..." He mumbled, more to himself rather than Dean, as he adjusted his grip on the lower part of the bat. He then returned next to Dean, eyes shining red.
"See, Dean, the thicker the ice is, the more the muscles freeze, the more numb one feels. For example, if your hand is trapped in a thick piece of ice, I can break it and make you see your own bones and still, you wouldn't feel a thing." The fallen angel said, savoring the sight of Dean's eyes, as they widened and then fell closed in a gesture of utter despair. "But now, I am going to enjoy the show..." He continued as he marched towards Sam with slow, even steps. The younger man shuddered from the cold and Lucifer cupped his cheek with his hand. "Don't touch him!" Dean snapped, but his comment fell on deaf ears.
"Are you cold, Sammy?" Lucifer asked, softening his voice. For the first time in a very long while, Sam managed to oblige his eyes to open. He gave a weak nod, unaware of the reason why. His mind was blank. "Oh, but that's the point... See, Sammy... Revenge is a plate best served cold..." He continued, giving Sam one of his best and most promising smiles. Silence then fell in the room as Lucifer let his hand travel all the way down, from Sam's torn lips to his carved chest, to his crotch, to his right leg. Lucifer took a few steps backwards as Dean took in a collective breath.
A whistling sound was heard, as the bat moved, followed by the cracking of ice and of bone. Dean was sure he would pass out as he watched the bat he loved so much crush Sam's left ankle. His own heartbeat echoed in his ears and his stomach flipped at the peculiar sound of crushing ice and bones, which was then heard. One beat, then a second one... Thump- thump... Then a third one... Thu- But Dean never got to hear it, as it was swallowed by a bizarre howl, filled with pain. It took Dean a few moments to realize it was Sam who had screamed...
THEN...
Dean wanted to cry out for Sam to run. But try as he might, he couldn't work his mouth to open, for it was dry and his tongue seemed to be a thick,stiff board. So, he could only watch, utterly terrified, as Sam climbed down the stairs and started walking towards where Dean and Mary were sitting. And yet, despite the situation, there was a part of him which was thrilled by the fact that Sam was alive and well. He had crushed the Brits and he had come back... Dean let his green eyes find Sam's hazel ones as the tall hunter reached the desk and stood at its side, Dean at his right hand, Mary at his left hand. His broad back was turned on the wall, and thus on Lucifer.
"Sam!" Mary called out urgently, but all of a sudden, words different from those she wanted to utter, left her lips. "You're back!" Sam turned his gaze on her and offered a weak smile. "Yeah, mom, I'm back, as for the Brits, the matter is closed." Sam explained, his expression dark and ominous. Sam let his hazel orbs find Dean's green ones and the older man, aware of the fact that Lucifer wouldn't allow him to warn Sam with words, tried to convey all the things he couldn't speak of, in one, meaningful gaze. Sam's face frowned and tried to scrutinize the one of his brother.
"Dean... I'm here, just like I promised." Sam offered weakly, noticing the worry and fear in Dean's gaze. But all Dean did, was to stare at him even harder with eyes so big and scared, Sam felt his heart missing a beat. Assuming Dean was worried about him, Sam let out a long sigh, and after a second, during which he was standing still, he kneeled before Dean, placing a callused hand on Dean's injured leg, making sure not to touch the bandaged flesh. Mary's eyebrows came together, but she remained silent. "Dean..." Sam muttered, as his hand which was lingering on Dean's leg started to shake. "I'm right here, alright?" He repeated, shaking his head so that his hair wouldn't cover his eyes.
Dean couldn't resist, he placed a hand on the back of Sam's neck and gave a squeeze, nodding in approval as he did so. "Yeah... Welcome back, Sammy..." Dean spoke the words in a low tone, drawing them out for as long as possible. He willed Sam's head to stay still so that he could look at Sam, a hint which the young man took, and obliged. Their eyes met again and Sam wanted nothing more than to let Dean hold him, conceal him from the threat Sam knew was his worst fear. Dean seemed to sense Sam's stiffness and pulled him even closer, but before he could crush him on his chest, Mary spoke.
"So, how did it go?" Mary asked, making Sam tear his gaze from Dean as well as, get away from him and back on his feet. "We had some casualties... But the job is done." Sam said, forcing a smile on his face. "But?" Dean said, understanding Sam was hiding something. Hazel eyes flicked between Dean and Mary, but the young man remained silent, grabbing the bottle of whiskey which was on the desk. He brought it to his lips and started gulping down long sips, closing his eyes against the intense burn in his throat. Dean's face darkened and his eyes narrowed, as he beheld that move. Sam never did that. Once Sam placed the bottle down, he took in a few ragged breaths and spoke, voice small, hoarse and rough from the burning liquor.
"Crowley must have sold us out." He spat and Dean felt his heart stumbling on itself. "Why is that?" Mary questioned, eyeing the bottle in Sam's hand. Sam let his gaze find the bottle as well, and he spoke again. "Sorry mom, I should have poured the drink in a glass." He uttered, avoiding to elaborate on Mary's previous question. "Sam, tell me what you meant-" "Is this yours, Dean?" Sam asked, pointing at the glass Lucifer had placed there. No. No, no, no, no, no,no... Dean tried, he really did, two letters, one God dammed word and he couldn't speak of it! "Dean? The glass, is it yours?" Sam asked again. No. "Yes..." Dean said, against his will and could only watch as Sam poured the brown liquor in the fine glass and then got it in between his hands.
"What I meant, mom... Is that the Brits told me something before they were all blown to pieces. They told me that..." Here Sam inhaled deeply and glanced at Dean, while bringing the brim of the glass only inches from his lips. "They told me, and showed me... That Lucifer is not in Hell, but roams the states instead, in search of Kelly and her son." Sam managed to utter and Mary couldn't deny the fact that her younger son seemed to be putting a lot of effort in order to sound calm. Dean grabbed Sam's wrist abruptly, making him jump and move the glass away from his lips. "Sam- Sammy..." His voice got caught in his throat, and his hand started to shake. Sam met his brother's gaze again but then let his shoulders drop, in a gesture of pure resignation.
Sam turned his hand so that he could touch the inner part of Dean's wrist before withdrawing his palm away. "Seems like you'll be meeting the Devil mom." Sam offered weakly, letting his gaze linger on his mother as he brought the brim of the glass to his lips and took a small sip. But he never swallowed that one sip, to the contrary, he spat it out forcibly, grabbing the desk with his free hand, while dropping the glass he was holding a few inches away. "Sam? Sam, what's wrong-" Mary's question went unheard however, as it was covered by the sound of glass being shattered to pieces, and by the sound of Sam's deep, uneven inhales.
Mary darted her head on the floor and saw that the glass Sam had been holding, was now in shards and that her son was grabbing the desk with both hands, holding it so hard that his knuckles were white. "Sam, what is it-" But Sam's eyes were fixed on Dean as he was trying to control his erratic breathing. His hand seemed to move on its own accord, and it grabbed the bottle of Whiskey, throwing it towards the center of the room. This time, the glass was thick and the rattle as it hit the floor, was deafening. A rather large pool of dark, brown liquor, was created in a matter of mere minutes, as the whiskey was spilled out and ran freely on the floor, surrounding the shards of glass.
Sam seemed lost in some kind of dream, but Dean knew he was trapped in his own mind, as flashbacks of his time in the Cage were passing before his eyes. Knifes, hooks, chains. Blood, gore, pain, screaming. Fire, ash, ice. Darkness... Shame, humiliation. Bitch. Whore. Tainted. Darkness... Sam's frame shuddered and convulsed, and his fingers tightened their hold on the desk. Bile rose in his chest. A hand touched his shoulder, making Sam jolt and reopen his eyes. But it was pointless, for he knew what he would see. Darkness... Fiery cracks on the walls, bloodied tools and heavy chains all around. Death, for that Cage was a place where no living thing could bloom. It was the final frontier, the coldest circle of Hell. Lucifer's domain, and bellow it, lay the abyss, the cold, dark, Empty.
And yet, his eyes were met with none of the above. They were met with two shiny emerald green orbs, bright and filled with life. Green, the color of the leaves, the color of the grass, the color of hope. Sam remained still for a few heartbeats, eyes glued to the ones of his brother, who had gripped Sam's shoulder with his right hand. Sam was sure Dean was saying his name, but all he could do, was blink. Dean... With the thought of his brother being the only one in his mind, Sam breathed in and out, regaining his composure, obliging his mind to keep working. He got on his feet and without turning around, he spoke, voice low, yet rather steady.
"What are you doing here, Lucifer?" Mary's eyes widened in question. "How can you tell it's him?" Mary uttered, but Sam ignored her for the sake of keeping his gaze on Dean. Footsteps were then heard on the cold floor, and both Mary as well as Dean, turned their eyes on the Devil, watching as the lights of the bunker fell on him, casting large, peculiar shadows on the nearby walls. Lucifer smiled and started clapping, slowly, threateningly. "I can see that you can still remember the taste of my lips, dear Sammy..." Lucifer pointed out, marching towards the middle of the room, stopping when his feet were met with the shards of glass which were lying spent on the floor.
Mary stopped dead in her tracks, her face paling visibly, whilst Dean tried to get up, but had no success in doing so. His green eyes, saw Sam's hazel ones falling closed and witnessed as a lone teardrop, marked his right cheek. With slow movements Sam turned his face away from his brother and dared to meet the Devil's gaze. For a few seconds no one uttered a word and Mary could hear her inhales and exhales as she breathed. And then, Sam spoke, voice still low. "Don't call me Sammy, you son of a bitch." Sam demanded, locking his hazel eyes with Lucifer's red ones...
End of chapter 5
A/N! So, here it ends! I hope you liked it! If you want, please tell me what you thought of it! :-)
Until next time,
Love you all,
Usagi!
