[Lucifer's chiding was quick and without compassion--it wasn't as if Sam could argue, not when Lucifer was barely permitting him enough air to keep conscious. He was silent for a second, two, and simply stared at Sam. His gaze was unforgiving and predatory and the longer he held it locked on Sam the colder his fingers became. By the time he continued speaking, Nick's hand was just below the freezing point.]
You really don't need to say anything, Sam. I mean, what could you really say, here, anyway?
[Lucifer leaned in close. He didn't bother with blinking.]
You could tell me you're sorry but, well, we'd both know that was a lie.
[And it would be, of course. That was, when you got right down to it, the major reason he was angry with Sam. Sam knew that was one of Lucifer's greatest...concerns, that specific situation, and he'd all but orchestrated it, insofar as he had agency to orchestrate anything. It was infuriating and Lucifer's grip tightened on Sam's neck, like a vice, and he dragged the Winchester up, against the wall, until he was off the ground and dangling.
How easy it would be to snap his neck. So little effort for such satisfaction.]
[ 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. ]
[Sam was scrambling, clawing at Nick's fingers, against the ice forming on his skin, but it was like spitting into the wind. It was an endeavor so pointless that even the description was a waste of time. Lucifer's eyes were locked on Sam's, as he panicked, as he stared inevitability down in the Devil's borrowed face, but he saw his fingers gripping and trying to find lasting purchase.
It would be so easy to kill him. Sam was nothing more than a wretched little human. For all Lucifer's adoration, Sam was nothing but a creature, petty, desperate, weak. The only reason he'd caused mayhem at all was because Lucifer had allowed it.
Unfortunately, stripping Sam of what little power he held, while comforting, put the blame for this squarely on Lucifer's shoulders. If Sam was only a pawn, and he was, then eviscerating him wasn't worth violating his word.
All at once, Lucifer let out a slow breath. It curled between them like smoke and Lucifer released Sam. His grip and the support it provided were gone immediately, leaving only a redness and the bite of cold behind. Nick's arm was a little slower to return to Lucifer's side, but it did, eventually, and his hand clenched into a tight fist.]
I've never found breaking my word so tempting, Sam, as I do right now. It's really put me in a jam.
[Nick's face pulled into a disconnected frown, one that was too tinged with cold, homicidal rage to be anything but patronizing.]
Oh, if I hadn't promised you--[Lucifer let out a shorter breath, something plosive that hovered between a sigh and a laugh.]--this conversation would be so much...different.
That's the way the cookie crumbles, isn't it? But now I have to wonder...just where does this leave us?
We're not in Kansas anymore, or Zelien, and I'm not too keen on renewing your contract. So, just what do I do with you?
[ The first real breath he took wasn't as refreshing as one would think, harsh as the cold air suddenly filled his empty lungs. But it was air and Sam finds himself on his feet, albeit stumbling and he's leaning against the house for support. Lucifer could have--seemed like he was going to simply crush Sam's windpipe and leave it there, finished. Or as finished as these sorts of places could leave something, which is really what brings them to their current predicament...
They're at a standstill. Whatever awkward, ulterior motives had given rise to the sort of agreement they shared was shattered the moment Michael brought them all together. Sam rubs his neck, weary and legitimately afraid.
All those people he named...some of them were now here. In Haven. Lucifer could easily pick them off one by one to exact a revenge befitting a jilted devil. Lucifer had trusted Sam to some degree, and Sam had trusted Lucifer to keep his word. He just never expected it to end like this. ]
...Just kill me.
[ Their agreement had been what everything was riding on. He'd though Michael was the trump card. He never expected the archangel to tear Lucifer apart piece by piece just to prove a point. ]
[It was impossible to read the dead-eyed stare that Lucifer leveled on Sam. Angelic emotion often conflicted with the human ability to express it, but this was not one of those cases. The look he leveled on Sam, completely void of anything resembling sympathy but of absolute, flat understanding was an exact and perfect representation of Lucifer's feelings. There wasn't even a twinge of anything else as he replied.]
No.
[He hadn't moved back when he released Sam. Distance wasn't a serious factor in Sam's safety, after all, and Lucifer had little regard for personal space. The closeness added a level of disconnect between them that was truly staggering.]
I promised I would never hurt you Sam, I will promise, and I don't lie.
[Lucifer picked up the pantomime again, moved Nick as he usually did, and shook his vessel's head as that human-esque animation picked up.]
I would have given you anything you wanted Sam. I did, I granted your every request for a pittance, all you had to do was say the word and I upheld it, but you--you--had to go and do that. I thought you were special, Sam. I almost believed you, I did believe you, right before I was murdered.
But no, now I think I was wrong.
Shocking, I know, but you're really not that special, are you?
[Despite insulting Sam, Lucifer's speech was mired in self-reproach. As if he'd been silly and should have known better. He almost sounded disappointed, though it was very angry. When he finished, he just peered at Sam for a moment.]
You're just...human.
[If it were possible to load more disdain into any one word, no one had ever managed it.]
[ The proximity is discomforting, but it's hardly the most threatening thing Lucifer has done to him in the last five minutes. Sam could call bullshit if he wanted, Lucifer had just hurt him, after all, but he doesn't. He likes to try and choose his words carefully if he can, and now that the blood flow has returned to his brain after being cut off from oxygen, Sam's mind starts flying through the different possibilities.
Should he admit to guilt? Could he? He doesn't want to give Lucifer the idea that Sam is ever planning on consenting, on giving in. His own brows furrow together. ]
I didn't--
[ He exhales harshly through his nose and straightens his back, knowing that he's going to have a visible bruise around his neck that won't be fun to explain. ]
--...I didn't think it'd go like that.
[ If Michael had defeated Lucifer once and for all? It would be another story. True, it would mean that Sam would be gone as well, but that really isn't the important factor. Sam had, perhaps foolishly, though some sense of familial love, brotherly obligation would keep them from destroying each other since Lucifer seemed so intent on not wanting to fight Michael. Dean gets angry with Sam, threatens him, but the final act?
Sam drops his arms to his sides. ]
No...I'm not. I'm not--I'm not anything. I don't want to be.
[ He doesn't want to be a monster. He doesn't want to be the cause of so many problems. He just wants to be normal, but he knows that's not even worth aiming for anymore. He feels he knows what it's like to spiral, to feel the rush of power and to come off the high with the harsh reality. He can't go through that again. ]
[Sam was being honest, if nothing else. He hadn't believed it would go as badly as it did, not until it began to go badly with speed. The funny thing was, Lucifer had believed him for a while there. He'd actually been convinced that Michael wouldn't do it. What had been a hopeful ambiguity, one of the few ambiguities left in his long, long, long life, had, despite his best efforts, been clarified.
Rather than wondering, now he knew his brother would kill him. In cold blood. That was Sam's gift to him. Thinking on it made his Grace practically boil with renewed rage, but it had already been diffused. Sam was clearly just a silly human who, as humans tended to be, was very wrong.]
Yes, fun playing the role thrust upon you, isn't it Sam? Unfortunately, as Michael's blade proved, conscientious objection doesn't seem to have much bearing on actual events.
[Lucifer didn't need the breath, it was entirely for show, but the show was a reminder. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. His opinion of Sam had suffered considerably, but he was still Sam Winchester.]
Fortunately, I can't stay mad at you, Sam. Hard to believe, given the depth of your betrayal, but I know it to be true.
[Lucifer motioned between them with one hand.]
When I've had a while to blow off some steam, we'll revisit this 'how to deal with you' question. Until then, well, we won't.
[ Betrayal? He actually uses that word. If anything, it reminds Sam that Lucifer had the idea in his head that they were on some level of understanding. But when he thinks about it, well, weren't they? Sam would never, will never consider the archangel an ally, but to say that over the months he hadn't come to see Lucifer in a light at least slightly different than he imagined would be a lie. An embarrassing, horrible lie.
So Sam is quiet, thoughtful as he tends to be. Some of the fear on his face fades as he studies the vessel that Lucifer inhabits. He doesn't want to be friends, he doesn't want to chitchat. But he does want to save people, and if Lucifer is feeling hurt, well...he'd seen what happened when he was bored. Sam doesn't want to know what else he might do to ebb the pain. ]
No.
[ The conviction behind his words surprises even Sam, but he can't do it all like this over again. He simply refuses to. Too much went wrong last time because of the way he wanted to handle things. People he cared about stopped trusting him too. ]
I can't do this anymore. I won't.
[ He motions between them and takes a few steps off to the side, trying to put a respectable distance to help aid his confidence. ]
I'm tired of sneaking around and--and look... [ He inhales through his nose, his frown turning to something a little less angry and a little more, well, he would never say it was sympathetic, but Sam hadn't meant to orchestrate a slaughter. He'd meant to save everyone. That didn't happen. Not even close. If anything? He'd made it worse. He knows that. ] ...I spent that entire week after we died turning into something I can't be. I won't. If that's the only option left, then just kill me now. I don't care how many times.
[ He puts his hand to his chest, right over the spot where Dean's bullet wedged itself. ]
My brother-- [ He doesn't need to say Dean's name, because it's not the who, it's the what. Family. ] --shot me. Didn't think twice. And I died.
[ Way back in the beginning. It had destroyed their relationship for quite a while. But it's an attempt to acknowledge that he realizes the implications of what happened. Please don't take it out on everyone else, Lucifer. ]
[Sam was taxing his patience, being obstinate like this, but as he explained, several details jumped out at the archangel.]
We?
[That was a possibility that hadn't occurred to Lucifer at all. Michael didn't care about Sam, he'd made that clear; Sam was a means to an end, little more than a way to draw Lucifer out, but Michael had been livid. He'd been trying to prevent Sam from suffering that but he'd apparently failed.
But wait.
Strictly speaking, Lucifer wasn't capable of sympathy, it required a level of emotional understanding, an ability to connect that Lucifer wasn't interested in cultivating. Well, more accurately, a level he wasn't generally interested in. Unfortunately, it was a level of connectivity he'd striven to inspire in Sam and, once again, his peaceful attempts to win over the Winchester had backfired.
They were alike, he and Sam, and being slaughtered by Michael meant as little to Sam as being slaughtered by Dean meant to Lucifer. Sam had already learned to fear his brother, before Michael. Dean had shot him, had killed him, and that knowledge would always exist in Sam. For the first time, Lucifer was absolutely certain that Sam understood.]
You died and came back, after your brother killed you, and after mine.... And while I was dead you turned into something? It seems I missed quite a lot in a short time.
[ He didn't--oh. He didn't know. Sam isn't sure if it's an important detail or not, what with their inability to stay permanently dead. He nods slowly. Nick had been a mess, and understandably so, but Sam was honestly thankful for the time he'd gotten to speak to the man. The knowledge that there was someone inside there besides the archangel, someone human and suffering is something Sam can't forget. He'd like to save Nick too, if he can, but he's not sure if it's too late for that.
Really, is Sam Winchester capable of saving anything at this point? Maybe this is why he seems to say "yes" in every reality. There's no where left to go. ]
I watched you die, and--...then he did the same to me. [ A pleasant memory? Hardly. Dean's bullet to his chest was practically a mercy killing in between. Now Sam understood the wrath of angels and just how bloody and gruesome this battle has become. All these things he'd been trying to avoid for everyone--ironically, that included Lucifer by proxy, even if that wasn't necessarily Sam's goal. ]
[Lucifer's anger, at this point, had faded into something in the background. It was pushed aside, if not forgotten, and Sam's admission about speaking with Lucifer's current vessel was, at best, perplexing.]
Why?
[It's not that he didn't understand that Nick was human, and that Sam would eventually serve the same purpose, he just didn't draw any connection there. The idea that they would have literally anything to talk about was baffling to the archangel. Communication between them was, in every sense, unnecessary.
The answer, of course, was available to Lucifer. At least, he thought it was, but Nick had no memories of his waking time after Lucifer's death. That entire week was a blank for the archangel and, it was becoming rapidly apparent, that was a considerable loss.]
[ Why? Why is that even a question? It should be obvious, at least it feels that way to Sam, but in the end it's not that surprising that Lucifer can't connect the dots on his own. Sam isn't sure if it's an unwillingness to simply try and understand or an inability. Sam wants to think it's just the latter. ]
...Because he's going through exactly what you want me to go through. [ Why wouldn't he want to talk to the man? To see how it is, to see how he's fairing? ]
I've wanted to since you told me his name. To see if he's okay.
[Lucifer's first instinct was to inform Sam that his experience would be very different from Nick's, but that assurance was pointless. Sam was so insistent that he wasn't going to say Yes, he wouldn't listen. The idea, though, that this was something Sam had wanted to do was new.
But that brought up another problem.]
You could have just asked, Sam. Waiting until after my demise was a touch unnecessary.
[True, it wasn't often that Angels willingly relinquished absolute control over their vessels, but there usually wasn't a reason to. Most of the time, the vessel had very little to contribute to whatever was going on, letting them up for air was...well, indulgent.]
But, in all fairness, Nick wasn't okay when he granted me control. You could chat if you really wanted but I doubt he's much improved. If you had a conversation with him, that's an impressive thing on its own.
[ That, admittedly, surprises Sam. His brows raise slightly, and although he's still on edge, he's clearly not considered that as an option before. But why wouldn't he? Lucifer seemed willing enough to indulge some of Sam's curiosities as long as it fell in with his greater purpose, although it's clear that the fact Sam would want to talk to Nick at all is new to Lucifer. ]
...I never considered it. [ He admits. That it was possible in the first place? ]
No, he didn't seem like it.
[ What Sam could garner is that Nick was and is a broken man. He figures that's partially what lead to his consent. What scares Sam is that he's beginning to feel like giving up too. ]
[Lucifer wasn't particularly fond of surrendering the spotlight in arguments about how he was wronged. However, given that he'd managed to put a great deal of the blame on himself, he was less reluctant to change topics. In his mind, Sam and Nick had very little in common. Beyond being human and being vessels capable of holding him, they shared nothing. Explaining Nick to Sam, therefore, had no risk and Lucifer didn't bother filtering the information.]
No, I didn't hurt Nick, that was all humanity.
[He tried to sound satisfied in that, but he was wearing the man. Lucifer had seen, all too clearly, the shape of Nick's loss. While it was immaterial to the archangel, there was also no point in being cruel to Nick. His existence had managed quite enough of that, as it was. Being cruel to Sam by describing this emotional train-wreck, however mild and petty that was, had slightly more reason behind it. It was just to make Sam uncomfortable, really, but he'd settle for that, for now.]
His beloved wife and infant were slaughtered in their beds, butchered by some human and left soaking into the floor. Nick was left alone in that cheerful little house and he didn't take it well. If I hadn't assumed control of him, he'd probably have drank himself to death.
[See how dissimilar you two are, Sam? And speaking of differences:]
You know, he actually asked me for something. Unlike you, Nick had no problem requesting what he really wanted, even before agreeing to anything. I'd have granted it for him, just like your requests, but he swung for the fences and it was beyond my abilities.
[ He hadn't known. Sam had no idea, but hearing it was just...awful. Sam doesn't feel differences, though--he feels empathy, a desire to try and right wrongs if he can and try to find a level of understanding with another human being who was hurting. Losing your family? No, Sam knew exactly what that feels like. Except what took his mother, Jess, and even their father away?
Demons. Not people. Demons. But Sam isn't so ignorant to realize that he's the constant common factor between all those who end up going before their time.
Sam swallows, his brows pushing together again. ]
That's awful.
[ It's not for you, Lucifer, it's for Nick. But Sam had found himself at the mercy of bad people before as well; he'd been kidnapped with the intent of being The Most Dangerous Game. He doesn't understand people sometimes, but saying that won't help his own case. ]
[Lucifer almost sounded pensive for a moment there, as he considered Nick's plight and how it had broken the man so very completely. He pitied Nick, and was angry that such a slight had been allowed, that God had let something like that unfold. It was his whole argument, humanity's flaws so obvious and inflicted so severely. But that was for another time.]
Nick wanted me to bring back his family.
[It wasn't surprising, really. His desperation was born from a lack of them and the way he'd crumbled when Lucifer took the face of his wife had been so piteous. Nick was so small and God had done such terrible things to him.]
I can raise the dead, of course, it's not all that complicated...but Nick's wife and child weren't...in my wheelhouse.
[Something in his vessel's chest tightened sharply, an odd phenomenon given how absolute Lucifer's control was. He pressed a hand, absently, over the spike of pain and continued on.]
If you were expecting tales of horror, of my malice and torment of poor old Nick, you'll find them a bit lacking. You see, what you don't seem to grasp is that I uphold my bargains, Sam.
I didn't coerce Nick, I didn't force him to agree. I won't force you, either.
And yet your distrust runs so deep that you knowingly help me relive the only thing I fear. It's very...disappointing.
[ It is heartbreaking. Of course he'd want his family back--the people you've lost, the ones that mean the most to you. What Sam wouldn't give to see Jess alive and well, but if there's anything he's learned from his experiences is that what's dead should stay dead. And that includes himself.
Still, he gets the message. Sam breaks eye contact, his jaw tensing in a stereotypical sign of an inner struggle. Sam doesn't want to make friends, but he doesn't want to enrage Lucifer anymore than he already is, especially if he's unwilling to fulfill his threats on Sam. He refuses to let anyone else become a target.
And maybe there's a part of him that needs to lay some of his guilt out on the table. And he's not sharing that with Dean. ]
I trusted you to keep your end of the bargain. [ He looks back up. He did realize that when Lucifer let both Dean's double team him back in the church that Lucifer would be true to his word. But... ] ...I just didn't expect Michael to go that far. Or for you not to even--
[ Defend himself? ]
I didn't want that to happen.
[Yes, he wants to defeat Lucifer. He has to. He will either succeed or die, that's all there is to it. But what happened wasn't stopping anything. No, it set things back and Sam is at a loss of how to carry things forward or just to stop all together. ]
[Lucifer peered at Sam, Nick's head gradually tilted as he examined him. After a long moment of silence, Lucifer righted his borrowed body and let out a slow, quiet hum. Sam was telling the truth, he was being sincere. Lucifer was still mad, in that way that people who are hurt deeply by a misstep often were, but Sam had never been quite this...open.
This behavior was deserving of some reward, however slight.]
I shouldn't hold Nick's request against you, I suppose. Jess is outside my abilities to raise, as well. You never asked, but I couldn't have granted it if you had.
[They'd come to this point because Sam was perpetually trying to defeat him, to diffuse the future as soon as possible. Sam's stubbornness had one source and it persisted even here. He refused to say "Yes," refused to end the world. It was almost funny how much duress the human put on himself, how dark the path looked with only part of the information on hand.]
You didn't ask why Nick said "Yes" to me, if I couldn't grant his wish...and you've never asked why you say it, either.
[ The mention of Jess sends a cold kill up and down his spine. He never says her name out loud, no one does. No one who knows her, no one he wants to share her with. It's like a sacred word only to be uttered in reverence, not by the devil. But more than that, it brings back the tangible reminder that her death was his fault. If she hadn't met him, she'd still be around, gracing the world with her love and insight. Someone more deserving than him could have basked in her radiance, someone...
A part of Sam will always love Jessica. That's something he can't reconcile and honestly? He doesn't want to.
But does Sam want to know? He imagines grief is what drove Nick to it, perhaps simply not caring what happens after that...or perhaps its much more simple than that; revenge. It's a palpable driving force that has moved Sam many miles in the past. He's in no place to judge.
Sam hesitates for a moment, rubbing the sores on his neck. ]
Nick, he was alone. He wanted revenge on God, he wanted his suffering to end, and I offered it, and so he's here.
[Lucifer paused and motioned to Sam with Nick's index finger.]
You, though, you held out. You held out for a long time, Sam. You even held out when you agreed.
[Lucifer let Nick's hand fall back to his side and drew a deep breath. The smile that spread across his face was wan but still honestly amused.]
You didn't want anything, you were high as a kite and challenged me to one round in your head, winner take all. It was most certainly a trick, you and that brother of yours had something clever in mind, I'm sure, but you had no intention of submitting.
[ Revenge, yes. But on God? That's not something Sam could--...well. Maybe he could understand. His life feels terribly unfair, and yet at the same time he almost feels like he's earned it. It's a mixture of wanting better and not feeling like he's worth the effort. If someone has to do this, then why not him?
What Lucifer is saying, though...
Sam's eyes widen slightly, the tension visible in his face. Dean said that they come out on top, the other Dean, the one who didn't follow. But is that...is that his trump card? He says "yes" and hopes he can handle it? His adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows, processing the new information and for once not even bothering to react to the implications that Lucifer seems to draw from his actions.
Could he, would he do that? Go for broke, one last attempt?
What really scares him is that even years in the past as he is, even as he goes over the possibilities, Sam realizes that yes, he would. If there was no other option, if the world was coming to an end, the train flying towards the station with no sign of slowing down. One chance to throw down the emergency breaks? He'd take it.
He already feels like he doesn't have much left.
But wait. ]
...You're speaking in past-tense.
[ Not "you will". "It was, you were, you had..." It's...already happened? Sam has said "yes" and he's riding Nick? ]
[ "That's news to me" is the lower road he could take with that statement, but it's hardly what really is confusing Sam right now. His stare is suspicious at best, uncertain and searching. Inconvenient for Lucifer, of course, but there's something that just doesn't line up for all Sam is attempting. ]
But--
[ He doesn't want to tempt fate, but is this really tempting it? Lucifer is the one to bring it to his attention. ]
[For the second time over the course of this conversation, Lucifer shot Sam a confused look. He'd already explained this, over and over, nearly every time they spoke. Had Sam not been paying attention?]
I want you to understand.
[He wanted Sam to know him, to see their similarities, and though he wouldn't ever quantify or articulate it, empathize with him. Sam was created, through explicit intervention for thousands of years, to be the only creature who could really understand him. Sam was an echo of him, as he had been and as he was. He was supposed to get it, all of it.
He wasn't supposed to hate him on principle.]
I've told you this. [A touch of irritation settled in Nick's face and Lucifer's tone.] Unless you mean your body--but, really, Sam? The rules for consenting are open for interpretation but I don't employ them that liberally.
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[Lucifer's chiding was quick and without compassion--it wasn't as if Sam could argue, not when Lucifer was barely permitting him enough air to keep conscious. He was silent for a second, two, and simply stared at Sam. His gaze was unforgiving and predatory and the longer he held it locked on Sam the colder his fingers became. By the time he continued speaking, Nick's hand was just below the freezing point.]
You really don't need to say anything, Sam. I mean, what could you really say, here, anyway?
[Lucifer leaned in close. He didn't bother with blinking.]
You could tell me you're sorry but, well, we'd both know that was a lie.
[And it would be, of course. That was, when you got right down to it, the major reason he was angry with Sam. Sam knew that was one of Lucifer's greatest...concerns, that specific situation, and he'd all but orchestrated it, insofar as he had agency to orchestrate anything. It was infuriating and Lucifer's grip tightened on Sam's neck, like a vice, and he dragged the Winchester up, against the wall, until he was off the ground and dangling.
How easy it would be to snap his neck. So little effort for such satisfaction.]
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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. ]
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It would be so easy to kill him. Sam was nothing more than a wretched little human. For all Lucifer's adoration, Sam was nothing but a creature, petty, desperate, weak. The only reason he'd caused mayhem at all was because Lucifer had allowed it.
Unfortunately, stripping Sam of what little power he held, while comforting, put the blame for this squarely on Lucifer's shoulders. If Sam was only a pawn, and he was, then eviscerating him wasn't worth violating his word.
All at once, Lucifer let out a slow breath. It curled between them like smoke and Lucifer released Sam. His grip and the support it provided were gone immediately, leaving only a redness and the bite of cold behind. Nick's arm was a little slower to return to Lucifer's side, but it did, eventually, and his hand clenched into a tight fist.]
I've never found breaking my word so tempting, Sam, as I do right now. It's really put me in a jam.
[Nick's face pulled into a disconnected frown, one that was too tinged with cold, homicidal rage to be anything but patronizing.]
Oh, if I hadn't promised you--[Lucifer let out a shorter breath, something plosive that hovered between a sigh and a laugh.]--this conversation would be so much...different.
That's the way the cookie crumbles, isn't it? But now I have to wonder...just where does this leave us?
We're not in Kansas anymore, or Zelien, and I'm not too keen on renewing your contract. So, just what do I do with you?
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They're at a standstill. Whatever awkward, ulterior motives had given rise to the sort of agreement they shared was shattered the moment Michael brought them all together. Sam rubs his neck, weary and legitimately afraid.
All those people he named...some of them were now here. In Haven. Lucifer could easily pick them off one by one to exact a revenge befitting a jilted devil. Lucifer had trusted Sam to some degree, and Sam had trusted Lucifer to keep his word. He just never expected it to end like this. ]
...Just kill me.
[ Their agreement had been what everything was riding on. He'd though Michael was the trump card. He never expected the archangel to tear Lucifer apart piece by piece just to prove a point. ]
Get it over with.
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No.
[He hadn't moved back when he released Sam. Distance wasn't a serious factor in Sam's safety, after all, and Lucifer had little regard for personal space. The closeness added a level of disconnect between them that was truly staggering.]
I promised I would never hurt you Sam, I will promise, and I don't lie.
[Lucifer picked up the pantomime again, moved Nick as he usually did, and shook his vessel's head as that human-esque animation picked up.]
I would have given you anything you wanted Sam. I did, I granted your every request for a pittance, all you had to do was say the word and I upheld it, but you--you--had to go and do that. I thought you were special, Sam. I almost believed you, I did believe you, right before I was murdered.
But no, now I think I was wrong.
Shocking, I know, but you're really not that special, are you?
[Despite insulting Sam, Lucifer's speech was mired in self-reproach. As if he'd been silly and should have known better. He almost sounded disappointed, though it was very angry. When he finished, he just peered at Sam for a moment.]
You're just...human.
[If it were possible to load more disdain into any one word, no one had ever managed it.]
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Should he admit to guilt? Could he? He doesn't want to give Lucifer the idea that Sam is ever planning on consenting, on giving in. His own brows furrow together. ]
I didn't--
[ He exhales harshly through his nose and straightens his back, knowing that he's going to have a visible bruise around his neck that won't be fun to explain. ]
--...I didn't think it'd go like that.
[ If Michael had defeated Lucifer once and for all? It would be another story. True, it would mean that Sam would be gone as well, but that really isn't the important factor. Sam had, perhaps foolishly, though some sense of familial love, brotherly obligation would keep them from destroying each other since Lucifer seemed so intent on not wanting to fight Michael. Dean gets angry with Sam, threatens him, but the final act?
Sam drops his arms to his sides. ]
No...I'm not. I'm not--I'm not anything. I don't want to be.
[ He doesn't want to be a monster. He doesn't want to be the cause of so many problems. He just wants to be normal, but he knows that's not even worth aiming for anymore. He feels he knows what it's like to spiral, to feel the rush of power and to come off the high with the harsh reality. He can't go through that again. ]
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Rather than wondering, now he knew his brother would kill him. In cold blood. That was Sam's gift to him. Thinking on it made his Grace practically boil with renewed rage, but it had already been diffused. Sam was clearly just a silly human who, as humans tended to be, was very wrong.]
Yes, fun playing the role thrust upon you, isn't it Sam? Unfortunately, as Michael's blade proved, conscientious objection doesn't seem to have much bearing on actual events.
[Lucifer didn't need the breath, it was entirely for show, but the show was a reminder. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. His opinion of Sam had suffered considerably, but he was still Sam Winchester.]
Fortunately, I can't stay mad at you, Sam. Hard to believe, given the depth of your betrayal, but I know it to be true.
[Lucifer motioned between them with one hand.]
When I've had a while to blow off some steam, we'll revisit this 'how to deal with you' question. Until then, well, we won't.
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So Sam is quiet, thoughtful as he tends to be. Some of the fear on his face fades as he studies the vessel that Lucifer inhabits. He doesn't want to be friends, he doesn't want to chitchat. But he does want to save people, and if Lucifer is feeling hurt, well...he'd seen what happened when he was bored. Sam doesn't want to know what else he might do to ebb the pain. ]
No.
[ The conviction behind his words surprises even Sam, but he can't do it all like this over again. He simply refuses to. Too much went wrong last time because of the way he wanted to handle things. People he cared about stopped trusting him too. ]
I can't do this anymore. I won't.
[ He motions between them and takes a few steps off to the side, trying to put a respectable distance to help aid his confidence. ]
I'm tired of sneaking around and--and look... [ He inhales through his nose, his frown turning to something a little less angry and a little more, well, he would never say it was sympathetic, but Sam hadn't meant to orchestrate a slaughter. He'd meant to save everyone. That didn't happen. Not even close. If anything? He'd made it worse. He knows that. ] ...I spent that entire week after we died turning into something I can't be. I won't. If that's the only option left, then just kill me now. I don't care how many times.
[ He puts his hand to his chest, right over the spot where Dean's bullet wedged itself. ]
My brother-- [ He doesn't need to say Dean's name, because it's not the who, it's the what. Family. ] --shot me. Didn't think twice. And I died.
[ Way back in the beginning. It had destroyed their relationship for quite a while. But it's an attempt to acknowledge that he realizes the implications of what happened. Please don't take it out on everyone else, Lucifer. ]
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We?
[That was a possibility that hadn't occurred to Lucifer at all. Michael didn't care about Sam, he'd made that clear; Sam was a means to an end, little more than a way to draw Lucifer out, but Michael had been livid. He'd been trying to prevent Sam from suffering that but he'd apparently failed.
But wait.
Strictly speaking, Lucifer wasn't capable of sympathy, it required a level of emotional understanding, an ability to connect that Lucifer wasn't interested in cultivating. Well, more accurately, a level he wasn't generally interested in. Unfortunately, it was a level of connectivity he'd striven to inspire in Sam and, once again, his peaceful attempts to win over the Winchester had backfired.
They were alike, he and Sam, and being slaughtered by Michael meant as little to Sam as being slaughtered by Dean meant to Lucifer. Sam had already learned to fear his brother, before Michael. Dean had shot him, had killed him, and that knowledge would always exist in Sam. For the first time, Lucifer was absolutely certain that Sam understood.]
You died and came back, after your brother killed you, and after mine.... And while I was dead you turned into something? It seems I missed quite a lot in a short time.
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Really, is Sam Winchester capable of saving anything at this point? Maybe this is why he seems to say "yes" in every reality. There's no where left to go. ]
I watched you die, and--...then he did the same to me. [ A pleasant memory? Hardly. Dean's bullet to his chest was practically a mercy killing in between. Now Sam understood the wrath of angels and just how bloody and gruesome this battle has become. All these things he'd been trying to avoid for everyone--ironically, that included Lucifer by proxy, even if that wasn't necessarily Sam's goal. ]
I spoke to Nick.
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Why?
[It's not that he didn't understand that Nick was human, and that Sam would eventually serve the same purpose, he just didn't draw any connection there. The idea that they would have literally anything to talk about was baffling to the archangel. Communication between them was, in every sense, unnecessary.
The answer, of course, was available to Lucifer. At least, he thought it was, but Nick had no memories of his waking time after Lucifer's death. That entire week was a blank for the archangel and, it was becoming rapidly apparent, that was a considerable loss.]
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...Because he's going through exactly what you want me to go through. [ Why wouldn't he want to talk to the man? To see how it is, to see how he's fairing? ]
I've wanted to since you told me his name. To see if he's okay.
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But that brought up another problem.]
You could have just asked, Sam. Waiting until after my demise was a touch unnecessary.
[True, it wasn't often that Angels willingly relinquished absolute control over their vessels, but there usually wasn't a reason to. Most of the time, the vessel had very little to contribute to whatever was going on, letting them up for air was...well, indulgent.]
But, in all fairness, Nick wasn't okay when he granted me control. You could chat if you really wanted but I doubt he's much improved. If you had a conversation with him, that's an impressive thing on its own.
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...I never considered it. [ He admits. That it was possible in the first place? ]
No, he didn't seem like it.
[ What Sam could garner is that Nick was and is a broken man. He figures that's partially what lead to his consent. What scares Sam is that he's beginning to feel like giving up too. ]
I though it was you. At first.
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No, I didn't hurt Nick, that was all humanity.
[He tried to sound satisfied in that, but he was wearing the man. Lucifer had seen, all too clearly, the shape of Nick's loss. While it was immaterial to the archangel, there was also no point in being cruel to Nick. His existence had managed quite enough of that, as it was. Being cruel to Sam by describing this emotional train-wreck, however mild and petty that was, had slightly more reason behind it. It was just to make Sam uncomfortable, really, but he'd settle for that, for now.]
His beloved wife and infant were slaughtered in their beds, butchered by some human and left soaking into the floor. Nick was left alone in that cheerful little house and he didn't take it well. If I hadn't assumed control of him, he'd probably have drank himself to death.
[See how dissimilar you two are, Sam? And speaking of differences:]
You know, he actually asked me for something. Unlike you, Nick had no problem requesting what he really wanted, even before agreeing to anything. I'd have granted it for him, just like your requests, but he swung for the fences and it was beyond my abilities.
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Demons. Not people. Demons. But Sam isn't so ignorant to realize that he's the constant common factor between all those who end up going before their time.
Sam swallows, his brows pushing together again. ]
That's awful.
[ It's not for you, Lucifer, it's for Nick. But Sam had found himself at the mercy of bad people before as well; he'd been kidnapped with the intent of being The Most Dangerous Game. He doesn't understand people sometimes, but saying that won't help his own case. ]
What did he ask for?
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[Lucifer almost sounded pensive for a moment there, as he considered Nick's plight and how it had broken the man so very completely. He pitied Nick, and was angry that such a slight had been allowed, that God had let something like that unfold. It was his whole argument, humanity's flaws so obvious and inflicted so severely. But that was for another time.]
Nick wanted me to bring back his family.
[It wasn't surprising, really. His desperation was born from a lack of them and the way he'd crumbled when Lucifer took the face of his wife had been so piteous. Nick was so small and God had done such terrible things to him.]
I can raise the dead, of course, it's not all that complicated...but Nick's wife and child weren't...in my wheelhouse.
[Something in his vessel's chest tightened sharply, an odd phenomenon given how absolute Lucifer's control was. He pressed a hand, absently, over the spike of pain and continued on.]
If you were expecting tales of horror, of my malice and torment of poor old Nick, you'll find them a bit lacking. You see, what you don't seem to grasp is that I uphold my bargains, Sam.
I didn't coerce Nick, I didn't force him to agree. I won't force you, either.
And yet your distrust runs so deep that you knowingly help me relive the only thing I fear. It's very...disappointing.
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Still, he gets the message. Sam breaks eye contact, his jaw tensing in a stereotypical sign of an inner struggle. Sam doesn't want to make friends, but he doesn't want to enrage Lucifer anymore than he already is, especially if he's unwilling to fulfill his threats on Sam. He refuses to let anyone else become a target.
And maybe there's a part of him that needs to lay some of his guilt out on the table. And he's not sharing that with Dean. ]
I trusted you to keep your end of the bargain. [ He looks back up. He did realize that when Lucifer let both Dean's double team him back in the church that Lucifer would be true to his word. But... ] ...I just didn't expect Michael to go that far. Or for you not to even--
[ Defend himself? ]
I didn't want that to happen.
[Yes, he wants to defeat Lucifer. He has to. He will either succeed or die, that's all there is to it. But what happened wasn't stopping anything. No, it set things back and Sam is at a loss of how to carry things forward or just to stop all together. ]
It's my fault.
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This behavior was deserving of some reward, however slight.]
I shouldn't hold Nick's request against you, I suppose. Jess is outside my abilities to raise, as well. You never asked, but I couldn't have granted it if you had.
[They'd come to this point because Sam was perpetually trying to defeat him, to diffuse the future as soon as possible. Sam's stubbornness had one source and it persisted even here. He refused to say "Yes," refused to end the world. It was almost funny how much duress the human put on himself, how dark the path looked with only part of the information on hand.]
You didn't ask why Nick said "Yes" to me, if I couldn't grant his wish...and you've never asked why you say it, either.
Do you want to know, Sam?
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A part of Sam will always love Jessica. That's something he can't reconcile and honestly? He doesn't want to.
But does Sam want to know? He imagines grief is what drove Nick to it, perhaps simply not caring what happens after that...or perhaps its much more simple than that; revenge. It's a palpable driving force that has moved Sam many miles in the past. He's in no place to judge.
Sam hesitates for a moment, rubbing the sores on his neck. ]
Yeah. I do.
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Nick, he was alone. He wanted revenge on God, he wanted his suffering to end, and I offered it, and so he's here.
[Lucifer paused and motioned to Sam with Nick's index finger.]
You, though, you held out. You held out for a long time, Sam. You even held out when you agreed.
[Lucifer let Nick's hand fall back to his side and drew a deep breath. The smile that spread across his face was wan but still honestly amused.]
You didn't want anything, you were high as a kite and challenged me to one round in your head, winner take all. It was most certainly a trick, you and that brother of yours had something clever in mind, I'm sure, but you had no intention of submitting.
Yet another way we're alike.
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What Lucifer is saying, though...
Sam's eyes widen slightly, the tension visible in his face. Dean said that they come out on top, the other Dean, the one who didn't follow. But is that...is that his trump card? He says "yes" and hopes he can handle it? His adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows, processing the new information and for once not even bothering to react to the implications that Lucifer seems to draw from his actions.
Could he, would he do that? Go for broke, one last attempt?
What really scares him is that even years in the past as he is, even as he goes over the possibilities, Sam realizes that yes, he would. If there was no other option, if the world was coming to an end, the train flying towards the station with no sign of slowing down. One chance to throw down the emergency breaks? He'd take it.
He already feels like he doesn't have much left.
But wait. ]
...You're speaking in past-tense.
[ Not "you will". "It was, you were, you had..." It's...already happened? Sam has said "yes" and he's riding Nick? ]
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Because you've already said "Yes". Unfortunately, someone decided to send me to our little sandbox city as I left Nick.
[Lucifer looked back at Sam and the bleak landscape of this new sandbox. If there was something to be learned, he hadn't discovered the message.]
The timing was deeply, deeply inconvenient, but hardly surprising. It isn't the first time God has intervened on your behalf.
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But--
[ He doesn't want to tempt fate, but is this really tempting it? Lucifer is the one to bring it to his attention. ]
--if I've already said "Yes', why bother?
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I want you to understand.
[He wanted Sam to know him, to see their similarities, and though he wouldn't ever quantify or articulate it, empathize with him. Sam was created, through explicit intervention for thousands of years, to be the only creature who could really understand him. Sam was an echo of him, as he had been and as he was. He was supposed to get it, all of it.
He wasn't supposed to hate him on principle.]
I've told you this. [A touch of irritation settled in Nick's face and Lucifer's tone.] Unless you mean your body--but, really, Sam? The rules for consenting are open for interpretation but I don't employ them that liberally.
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