"I pray my redeemer will come and take me from my grave."
-Robert Johnson

Chapter 5

Dean feels like he's in a trance, just staring at the thick, syrupy crimson that surrounds him like a pond. The feeling of the blood saturating his jeans is revolting; it's sticky and tepid, no longer hot but not old enough to be cold.

But he doesn't want to move. Moving means accepting that Sam's gone, knowing that there's nothing left for him to do now but build a pyre. If Dean gets up, he'll have to face burning his brother and being alone in the world, permanently. He'd rather sit on the floor forever, letting the blood dry and adhere his jeans to the concrete.

In the end, it's his hunter instincts that force him to get up. Dean's known for a long time what it feels like to be watched, to have something supernatural in the same room as you. It's like a fly buzzing by your head, like a soft consistent, annoying sound. The second Dean feels it, he reaches for the knife that he had dropped on the floor next to him. The small scrape that the blade makes against the floor comforts him as he stands, keeping his movements as controlled and as soft as he can. Instinctively, Dean's eyes immediately go to where Sam's laying. When he sees what sparked his spidey sense, Dean almost drops the knife in shock.

Lucifer's standing over Sam with one hand running through Sam's hair as the other rests between his pectoral muscle and his shoulder. Seeing Lucifer touch Sam so affectionately snaps Dean out of his astonishment, and makes anger and possessiveness strike hard. He finds himself clutching Sam's knife tighter in his hand, wishing he could sink it in Lucifer's chest and do actual damage.

Lucifer doesn't look up from Sam's shallow gray face as he says, "Hello, Dean. I must admit, I didn't think I'd be seeing you again so soon. How was your trip back home?"

"Get away from him," Dean demands fiercely, ignoring Lucifer's subtly sardonic comment.

"I know what you're thinking but you don't have to be afraid. I still need his permission, even when he's dead," Lucifer replies easily but he untangles his hand from Sam's hair and steps away, focusing his attention on Dean, "It's why I've waited so long."

Dean bounces his gaze from Sam to Lucifer, "For what?"

"To bring Sam back," Lucifer answers patiently as he leans against the table that Sam's resting on, and crosses his arms across his chest.

Dean's eyes widen and his breath catches, forming a painful lump in his chest, "What?"

Lucifer smiles, "I should apologize. You really outdid yourself on the revenge tour. Nice job, by the way. The way you slowly strangled that guy, yeesh."

Dean feels like he's going to be sick.

"But I was never going to leave Sam dead. He's the one, remember? My one true match."

Emotions hit Dean hard and lightning fast, the first of which is absolute, unadulterated relief. It's so powerful that it threatens to bring him to his knees. Then horror grips him like a vice. God, he just murdered four hunters, pretty much butchered one of them, and it could all be for nothing. Suddenly, Dean's very aware of the blood staining his hands, burning holes through his clothes, and squelching under his boots. The knife in his hand is no longer an extension of himself, but an invasion, heavy and prominent. He can feel Lucifer studying him and if it weren't for the acid pit forming in his stomach, he'd see the irony in this moment: right now, under the eyes of Lucifer, he feels like he's being judged by God.

Lucifer smiles knowingly and shifts his gaze to the carnage on the ground, "It's really kind of moving to see you getting in touch with what you left behind in hell. Felt good, didn't it?"

Dean's hands clench and the crimson slips between his fingers. He resists the overwhelming urge to wipe his hands on his jeans.

"It wasn't like that," Dean defends through gritted teeth, only wondering why he's trying to justify himself to Satan after the fact.

"I know it wasn't. I know what it's like, Dean, to kill for your brothers," a sly smile spreads across Lucifer's face, "But you couldn't have done it without hell. You wouldn't have had it in you."

The very fact that it's 'in him' at all is making him physically sick.

Realizing that Dean isn't going to say anything more, Lucifer turns his attention back to Sam. "Sam is strong, so much stronger than you give him credit for," Lucifer says as he tenderly trails through his hand through Sam's hair again, "He's the perfect vessel, powerful, untouchable."

Dean growls as the same possessive anger wells up inside him again, "Well, all you're ever going to get to do is window shop because he's never going to say yes to you. Now, for the last time, get your goddamned hands off my brother."

The corners of Lucifer's lips tug, "I like you, Dean."

"Yeah, you mentioned that once," Dean retorts harshly as he glares at Lucifer's hands, which haven't moved from Sam yet.

"But you know you're wrong."

Dean really doesn't want to hear this speech again. His faith and hope wavers enough on its own, he doesn't need Lucifer doing another victory dance in front of his face to help break it down even more. All he wants is for Lucifer to make good on his word, grab Sam in the fiercest hug known to man, get the hell out of dodge, and never let his brother out of his sight again. And this time, he's going to hold on to that promise.

"I've already told you, no matter what details you alter, what choices you make, things will always end up exactly as you saw them," Lucifer says and then motions to Sam's body, "Sam dying is just an unforeseen detour. He is going to say yes to me, one way or another. And you know it."

"Well if that's what helps you sleep at night," Dean says as his gaze flickers impatiently to Sam, "Bring him back."

"All in good time, Dean. We still need to have a chat, you and I, and Sam…Sam's a little busy right now any ways," Lucifer says with a small, easy smirk.

Dean's stomach rolls sickeningly and the blood-slicked knife slips in his grip. "Busy." Sam's a little busy right now. In hell. OhGodOhGodOhGod, no.

"I know, hell's awful but Sammy here," Lucifer says cheerfully as he pats Sam's shoulder, making him jerk limply, "Has been holding pretty strong. It's been really annoying actually because as I said, I need him to say yes, even in death."

Devastation and horror quickly flips back to anger. Before he even realizes what he's doing, Dean's flipping the knife over in his hand so that he's holding on to the blade, and whipping it at Lucifer's midsection. It happens fast, like an instant reflex, and much to Dean's satisfaction, the knife hits Lucifer's rib cage with a barely audible thump. His small smirk of victory is short lived however as Lucifer jerks, and looks at the hilt of the knife in irritation.

Lucifer sighs and then proceeds to grab the knife, and with little difficulty, pulls it free with a string of blood. Lucifer sets the blade on the table next to Sam and turns his annoyed expression back to Dean.

"That wasn't very nice," Lucifer scolds mockingly, "Feel better?"

Dean glowers, trying not to show his fear.

"I didn't think so. Anyways, where were we? Oh yes, you want Sam back," Lucifer says and tilts his head in thought, "But he's busy back in my hometown with some of my most…loyal followers, which leaves you and I to have a little talk."

"About what?" Dean demands through clenched teeth

Lucifer shrugs nonchalantly, "You, Sam, Michael, our happy family."

"You might as well crawl back into the hole in hell that you slithered from or kill me, because Sam's not saying yes and neither am I, and if it's the last thing I do, I will kill you."

"Haven't we had this conversation already, Dean? You've seen what happens. Sam says yes and you?" Lucifer says and then grins sadistically as he turns his attention back to the bodies behind Dean, "I think you're already half way to what you're going to become: a vengeful, angry killer with no regard for anything or anyone, not even Sammy."

Dean swallows as the memories of the future replay themselves in his mind, torturing him with images of Lucifer in Sam's skin and his twin's cold eyes staring back at him. Dean shakes his head, partly in denial and partly to erase the pictures.

"Don't feel bad, Dean, it's supposed to happen this way. You couldn't have saved Sam. It's always been his destiny to free me, to become part of the most powerful force in existence. Why do you think that he never molded to your father's expectations? Why he left you so many times? He never belonged there with you," Lucifer says, sympathy and understanding rolling his words together, "And don't think that you can stop your destiny either. Michael? Michael's just like you: a single-minded, over-confident, dominant warrior. Eventually, you will have to say yes to him."

Dean smirks, even though the words sting, "I know what this really is."

"And what is that?" Lucifer inquires with a small sigh.

"Jealousy," Dean states, his smirk widening, "Big brother didn't like what you were doing so he tossed you out like trash and didn't look back. Well, Sam and I have some problems but I always come back for him, always, which is a helluva lot more concern than Michael ever showed for you. And now that he's back on earth? He's ready to squash you like the bug you are all over again."

Lucifer's expression darkens in rage and Dean wonders if deep down he really does have a death wish. No sane human would taunt the Devil about his family problems. Dean guesses that's the thing, he's not always sane and while he is human, he's also an archangel's vessel. Speaking of…

"You can't kill me," Dean gloats with another smirk, "See, I'm kind of a big deal to the guys upstairs, and they won't let you gank me. So since Sam's never going to say "yes" to you, dead or alive, why don't you shove this game you're playing where the sun don't shine and bring my brother back. Now."

Lucifer is at his throat, literally, in seconds, his hand squeezing inhumanly tight, "Just because I can't kill you, doesn't mean I can't harm you, significantly. Sam's life is in my hands and if I want, I can keep him in hell for years, Dean, for eternity."

Fear runs through Dean and strikes him deep, but not because his throat is clamped shut or because his lungs are barely expanding, but because the idea of Sam being in hell for eternity is enough to stop his heart.

"But I won't," Lucifer says, his calm, slightly cheery expose back in place, "Because he needs to be on earth in order for me to take his form."

Lucifer releases Dean's throat and steps back, returning to his place by Sam. Dean rubs lightly at his bruising throat, wincing as air drags over the irritation when he breathes.

"Then why keep him in hell at all?" Dean questions when he feels like he can talk without squeaking.

Lucifer shrugs, "He was going there anyways, might as well make it productive. I don't need to force him, Dean. I already know what his answer will eventually be, all I need to do is wait."

"You son of a bitch," Dean growls, "You're keeping him there just for kicks?"

"You were putting on quite the show, I didn't want to miss it," Lucifer says with a smile.

"Well, the show's over so get to the resurrecting," Dean demands as impatience, desperation and that constant undercurrent of fear festers in his heart and swirls through his veins.

He's getting scared and starting to panic. A constant mantra of "bring him back, bring him back now" is going through his head, and the longer that Lucifer takes, the more Dean's convinced that the rogue angel is just yanking his chain.

Suddenly, Dean's distracted by the sound of wings whooshing by his head. He immediately feels the heavy, but familiar presence of Castiel. He won't admit it out loud but he's relieved that he's not alone with Satan any more.

"What are you doing here, Cas?" Dean asks as he hesitantly takes his attention off of Lucifer.

Castiel ignores him as he glares fiercely at Lucifer, "You breached the rules when you took Sam Winchester from judgment. Release him from hell. Now."

"Castiel, am I right? I must admit that your dedication to the Winchester brothers is inspiring but you're hardly in a place to give me commands, brother. We're one in the same. And if I wanted to, I could kill you without a thought."

Dean swallows and looks at Castiel, trying to gauge what the angel is thinking. As usual, Castiel is giving away the emotions of a rock, so Dean has no idea if the comment rattled him or not. It rattled Dean. He's well aware that Cas is on heaven's hit list and that Lucifer could collect bounty without a thought, just like he threatened.

"You are no brother of mine. Release him or the archangels will release him for you. We both know you don't want that to happen," Castiel orders, "I will not ask again."

Dean can feel the air crackle between the ethereal siblings. He wonders if it's from the tension or if there's something else brewing. Instinctively, Dean moves to put some more space between the three of them, making sure that he's out of the way in case one of them decides to charge.

Finally, Lucifer cracks a half smile, "Loyalty. I can appreciate that."

Castiel doesn't respond, just glares with warning. Lucifer winks at him before turning his attention back to Dean.

"I keep my promises, Dean. All of them," He says and then smiles lazily, even though something sinister is burning behind his eyes, "I'll see you soon."

Lucifer disappears and from the table, Sam takes a huge, lung rattling breath.