Chapter 7: Crazy on You

Pairings: Sam/Lucifer

Warnings:

Spoilers: To season 7, episode 15

Sam and Dean had been exhausted when they finally made it back to the motel. That hadn't mattered though, as Castiel had still been unconscious and they had needed to get the fuck out of Dodge. They'd carried him back, packed their things, and driven. They took back roads, moving steadily South until they were certain they were in the most random, normal town they could reach with a single night's driving. That ended up being in southern Utah.

They had collapsed in the motel, sleeping far longer than they should have. When they woke, Cas had been up as well. He had asked Sam what had happened, and the younger brother had retold the story in as much detail as he could, all the while flinching whenever Dean twitched or sharply inhaled.

"And he did it," Cas said, disbelieving.

"Um, yeah, presumably."

The truth was that they didn't see Lucifer for days. He didn't return to check in, and there were no signs that he had done what he'd promised—though of course, there likely wouldn't be anysigns. So they were left waiting, hiding in a motel in Utah, until they heard from the devil or were found by a leviathan. Things were tense.

After several maddening—and somewhat boring—days locked in their motel room, Sam decided he was far too tired of not being clued in. When he went to sleep, he called for Lucifer in his dream, and proceeded to wait.

The mere act of calling an angel made his dream a lot more lucid and coherent. It wasn't a regular, foggy dream where events occur and you simply accept them. It wasn't passive. That meant that he noticed time passing, and as he sat on a park bench on a misty afternoon in his mind, Sam began to worry that the devil wasn't coming.

"Uhh, Lucifer? Could you come tell me what's up?" He called again, for good measure.

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," came a voice from behind Sam. "Y'know, eventually."

Sam spun. The angel's face—or rather, his vessel's face—looked tired and grey. The sores that had slowly spread over his face years ago seemed to be returning.

"I thought you said your vessel would hold up for as long as I'm alive?" Sam said, confused.

"That's right. But you asked me for something exhausting, so I'm temporarily putting my attention elsewhere. Nick will heal eventually," he replied.

"And how…is that going? I mean, how hard can it be for you? You snapped your fingers and exploded Cas. Are leviathans that much worse?" Sam asked carefully.

"It isn't a quick process, Sam. Leviathans weren't made to be destructible. My father learned his lesson after creating them, of course, but he made this line a pain in the ass to get rid of. In fact, they can't be killed so much as erased." He explained.

"And how to you do that?" Sam persisted.

"It's a bit of a process. I won't bore us with the details. But I'm glad you called me, Sammy, because I need to ask you a favour."

Sam frowned. "And what's that?"

"Well, I need to borrow a bit more juice from you," he replied. The angel stepped forward, staring intently up at Sam. "I think you know what that means."

"You pull it past what's left of the wall in my head, don't you? So it'll break down even sooner."

Lucifer nodded.

"And will I go crazy?" He asked. He was terrified, certain that he had been backed into a corner by Lucifer and that no good option remained to him. He had the feeling that he was standing on the edge of a cliff, and his next step would send him falling.

"I'm not sure. But I wouldn't say that you endured so much more than your brother did during his vacation in the pit." The angel replied after a long pause.

Sam frowned. "What do you mean? Are you trying to convince me that you and Michael didn't play volleyball with my soul in that cage?" He demanded.

Lucifer studied his face, expression showing a hint of actual concern. "Not for the entire time," he answered after a while.

Sam felt his jaw drop. "What does that—"

"It would be good if you made a decision soon, Sam," he interjected, expression changing. "Otherwise I will have to start this process again."

"Oh yeah? If you need me so badly, then you're going to tell me what you mean about Hell." He said, crossing his arms defiantly. It didn't occur to him at the time that antagonizing the devil in his own brain might not be a great idea. He would realize this later.

Lucifer seemed to be losing patience. "You asked me to kill the leviathan. I'm not at full strength yet. You can decide whether you still want it dead," he reminded the hunter.

"I…will it take the whole wall down?" Sam asked, deciding this was the most important consideration.

"I doubt it."

Only marginally reassuring. Sam sighed, and looked at the devil for a long moment. "And what would you do with it if I said no?"

"Take its head off and put it somewhere else. The band-aid solution. I know humans are fans of those, but it will literally come back to bite you in the ass somewhere down the line." He replied, tone serious and impatient. "Make a choice now, Sammy. I'm done waiting."

Sam looked at the ground, considering. "Do you want me to go crazy?"

"No." He insisted, starting to sound truly irritated.

And for some reason, Sam believed him. Mostly it seemed to him that if the devil wanted to take anything from inside Sam's head, he could do it without permission. And he knew so little about leviathans that he believed it could be necessary.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "Take what you need."

Lucifer nodded, his expression apologetic. "See you soon, Sam."

Then the devil disappeared, and Sam began to remember.

….

Sam had been in the cage with Michael and Lucifer. Adam had, too. Mostly they had ignored Adam, and Sam was glad about that. No, Adam had not been their preferred chew-toy. Sam had.

He had gotten them in the cage. They had been itching to start the apocalypse and Sam had pulled them out of it within seconds. Then they had been stuck, in a box, staring at each other. And Sam had been in the way.

Michael had been blunt in his punishment. It seemed obvious that he had never needed to use anything but brute force in his dealings with others. Sam had dealt with pain before, and while Michael's beatings were more than he'd ever dreamed of, they were still just pain. Loud, simple, manageable pain.

Lucifer had been more inventive.

The only blessing Sam had received was that the archangels were unwilling to cooperate for too long at a time—and when they'd fought, he could step back for a moment.

They had rarely worked at Adam, because they hadn't gotten to tear as many chunks out of Sam as they would have individually. And of course, Adam hadn't been guilty. He was the only one of them who didn't deserve to be in Hell. So Sam considered it the tiniest ray of justice that his half brother was generally spared from the horrific tortures the archangels so passionately inflicted on the older of the two.

There had been no privacy. No rest. Nothing to hope for or to cling to but trying to distract the angels and hoping that Dean wouldn't be stupid enough to try to open the cage again.

With those two fragile anchors, Sam had managed to resist every single day. It wasn't that he was stronger than Dean. Maybe it was just that he was more hopeful. Or stupid. But every day, Michael and Lucifer had moved to rip at his soul. And every day he had stepped up and met them, a thin barrier between the monsters and Adam.

Yet after months of that routine, one day Lucifer had merely stood back to watch.

Well, I'm likely making a huge mistake by describing any part of Hell, but hey.

I also realize that this is a chapter composed entirely of exposition, and for that I apologize. For more action (or if you're impatient for the actual slash in this slashfic), you can always check out my freshly completed oneshot, Illuminated.

/shameless self promotion

New chapter will likely be done by the end of the week.