[ For all that Lucifer had tried to endear himself to Sam--no, perhaps simply garner some understanding for their shared plight, this is exactly the kind of face Sam would imagine the devil to have. Cold, uncaring, a sleeping silent anger that digs into his flesh and reminds him that the forces he's playing with are so beyond his ability to control. And that's really the problem, isn't it? Sam almost had control, almost had a muzzle on the dog and the dog was willing to walk, but he'd fucked it up. Because you can't leash a mountain lion, a shark.
He tried. He tried because it was the only ace in the hole Sam felt like he had. Lucifer didn't want to fight Michael. Lucifer didn't have to fight Michael, but Sam didn't think it would go so far as not to defend himself against attack. It was a slaughter and he'd witnessed every second. Michael made sure of that. Something that he knew he shouldn't feel any sense of remorse for, but a hefty part of Sam's guilt is that he feels some responsibility. It was his fault. It is.
Sam's not sure if it's just Nick's fingers or if his neck is really starting to nice over, but each strangled gasp he tries to bring in feels more strained, cutting into his chest and lungs. Sam's tall--his feet not touching the ground--...
This is it, isn't it? He just got back after a week of Hell, a week of believing he was turning into Lucifer as some sort of payback, and now he's about to be sent back. But he still struggles, trying to unhinge Lucifer's grip with decreasing strength as he begins to feel light-headed. ]
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He tried. He tried because it was the only ace in the hole Sam felt like he had. Lucifer didn't want to fight Michael. Lucifer didn't have to fight Michael, but Sam didn't think it would go so far as not to defend himself against attack. It was a slaughter and he'd witnessed every second. Michael made sure of that. Something that he knew he shouldn't feel any sense of remorse for, but a hefty part of Sam's guilt is that he feels some responsibility. It was his fault. It is.
Sam's not sure if it's just Nick's fingers or if his neck is really starting to nice over, but each strangled gasp he tries to bring in feels more strained, cutting into his chest and lungs. Sam's tall--his feet not touching the ground--...
This is it, isn't it? He just got back after a week of Hell, a week of believing he was turning into Lucifer as some sort of payback, and now he's about to be sent back. But he still struggles, trying to unhinge Lucifer's grip with decreasing strength as he begins to feel light-headed. ]