Fic: A Game of Chess
Title: A Game of Chess
Characters: Sam, Devil, Others
Rating: PG-13. Nothing you wouldn't see on the show.
Disclaimer: Sam belongs to Reaper. This story, however, belongs to me. Illustration by super awesome onyourmark from TWoP.
Summary: Sam has a job to do in Hell. He only wished he knew what it was. Sequel to The Plan In Action.
Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Part VI
Lucifer surveyed the damage in the warehouse. Several of his staff of overseers were hurt and nearly half the souls had been lost to the Outer Realms. But what annoyed him most was the loss of paperwork. That was going to be a bitch to replace.
The personal physician for Hell came over to his side. Lucifer instructed him, "I want you to look after Sam for right now, Uphir."
"But my Lord, the staff has many injuries whereas the child is barely touched…"
Lucifer sent a wave of immense pain through his aide. He did so hate repeating himself. "Sam first."
Uphir bowed through his anguish and went to tend to the unconscious boy.
Sam was at a construction site. He had to be. Nothing else could explain the pounding in his head, the board he was lying on, and the sandpaper rubbing his face.
With his eyes still closed, he tried to half-heartedly shoo the sandpaper away, but that only earned him more scratches. When his hand made contact with a dog's head, Sam finally opened his eyes.
Kiwi was licking him, attempting to wake him up. The Chihuahua was practically in his face, nuzzle to nose. Sam could tell the dog was trying to control its excitement, since it wasn't bouncing up and down with as much enthusiasm as it usually did. Kiwi did, however, lay back on hind legs, twitch, and thump its tail eagerly on Sam's chest.
Even though his head was killing him, Sam couldn't stifle his grin. "Hey, Kiwi. Glad to see you safe and sound." He scratched the little dog's ears. Kiwi leaned into it, as if it was the best massage ever.
"Well, look who's finally awake. Hey, sport."
Sam looked up from the floor he was laying on to see the Devil, who was sitting in the armchair next to the couch and had clearly been playing a video game. As soon as Sam saw the Devil, he groaned, pulled the blanket over his head, and tried to bury himself deeper into the carpet.
From under the blanket came his muffled whine. "Why can't it all just be a dream?"
The Devil chuckled. "Oh no, Sammy. No hiding. It's always best to just face reality head on."
Sam sighed and pulled the blanket back down. He hated his reality. Holding on to Kiwi, he pushed himself into more of a sitting position against the couch, which wasn't as easy as it should have been. He was surprised by how exhausted he was. God, he was so tired.
Looking around, Sam noticed he was back in the living room of his penthouse. The raggedy old blanket covering him was the one he used at night when he slept on the floor in his bedroom. He was also wearing different clothes, made of a white linen. Sam refused to think about who might have dressed - or worse - undressed him.
"You put me to sleep on the floor?"
A look of amusement passed over the Devil's face. "No, I put you to sleep on the couch. You're the one who rolled over and fell off. Twice. I'm sure it didn't help your headache."
The Devil reached over to the end table next to the armchair, picked up a small white bottle, and shook two pills out of it. Then he grabbed the glass of water. The Devil got up, moved over to the couch, and took a seat on the floor next to Sam. He handed the water and pills to him.
Sam gave him a wary look.
The Devil assured him. "It's just plain aspirin, Sam, I promise. For your headache. I do have access to drugstores in the earthly realm, you know."
Sam hesitated, but the intense throbbing in his head campaigned heavily against his better judgment. He grudgingly took the medicine. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Sam downed the pills and water. The Devil took the glass back and waved his hand. The glass instantly returned to the end table. Sam leaned back, silently pleading for the pills to get to work instantly.
Absently petting the dog still on his lap, Sam finally asked, "What happened?"
The Devil beamed and wagged a finger at him. "You started a war, kiddo. You should be very proud. I know I am."
"For starting a war?"
"Sam," the Devil patiently admonished, "this is Hell. War is what we do."
Sam looked at him. "That portal. Was that the real Hell?"
"You've never seen the 'real' Hell, Sammy. But I suppose for your purposes, it was close enough. Astaroth will pay for that. Leviathan should have known better too."
"What do you mean?"
The Devil measured his words. "Let's just say that the reality of the Outer Realms doesn't exactly mix with the reality you and I are in right now. It's a lot like oil and water. When Astaroth and Leviathan changed into their true forms, the realities clashed and the portal was created." The Devil looked irritated. "Did quite a bit of damage too."
Joy. Sam remembered all the destroyed files and sighed. As if his job wasn't hard enough already. Going back to work was going to seriously suck.
Choosing to overlook the easy opportunity the Devil had just given him to whine about work, Sam asked instead, "Speaking of damage, what was that light?"
"What light?"
Sam could tell the Devil was hiding something, even if he looked completely guiltless.
"That light. That bright, white, blinding one that showed up right before I passed out. Astaroth and Leviathan hated it." Sam tried to remember. "In fact, I think everyone hated it. They all backed towards the portal when it appeared. It's even probably the source of my headache, it was so intense." He rested back against the couch again, and put a hand to his still aching forehead. "Come to think of it, it looked a lot like that light that shined back at the fake Pearly Gates where I came in. Only this light was much brighter."
The Devil scrutinized Sam very carefully. The boy was good, and therein laid the danger. Sam was so close to the truth, he could practically reach out and touch it.
The Devil responded as cryptically as possible. "Since you also saw it at a different portal, then it's probably the same light. We don't see the effect very often, except at the entrance you arrived at. Maybe it's a result when two realities mix."
Sam shrugged at the answer. His head hurt too much to think very clearly. "I guess, although it's weird that this time it came after the portal opened, and not at the same time." Sam shook his head in thought, then grimaced from the pain. He changed the subject. "What's going to happen to Astaroth?"
"Don't worry about it. He'll be punished accordingly. I did threaten my full wrath." The Devil mused, "I will admit though, that his plan had a certain bit of brilliance, even if his greediness was the cause of his downfall. Astaroth and Leviathan share no love. It's no wonder Astaroth refused to let Leviathan's recruits escape from his own kingdom. He loves punishing them too much."
"Astaroth said no one ever looks at the recruiters when souls escape."
"No, we usually don't, and I have to admit I only cared about the large losses at the time, and not the smaller details. However, Astaroth had just started hinting about a possible recruiter connection, right before you arrived. He told lies that he'd lost more Leviathan recruits than nearly any other. I didn't know they were lies at the time, though."
A wide grin spread across the Devil's face. "Once I gave the job to you, boy, he must have really scrambled to make sure his deception was better concealed. I'm guessing that was supposed to be Bob's job. But unfortunately for Astaroth, he chose a protégé that was a bit too much like his master. Astaroth killed him for allowing you to be the one to go through his files - not that it mattered, since you'd already been taking notes anyways. Ironic how after all Astaroth did to stall you, his actions only ended up speeding your discovery of his treachery."
The Devil lightly patted Sam's knee. "Plus, Leviathan's been stewing for awhile. Making it look like he was the betrayer so that I would go after him in Astaroth's stead was very, very sneaky of Astaroth. It will be fun watching him struggle to regain respect for his leadership."
Sam looked shocked. "You're letting Astaroth keep his kingdom? After what he did?"
"Of course." The Devil acted as if that had never been in question. He regarded Sam. "Sam, why do you think everyone does my bidding?"
Sam snorted. "That's easy. Because you're pure evil and will terrorize anyone who doesn't give you what you want."
The Devil chuckled and leaned back. "Perhaps. Now don't get me wrong - fear is a powerful motivator. I will definitely grant you that. There are many situations where fear and terror are the best forces to keep subjects in line. But I've been around a long time, Sam, and I want you to think about this: Do you really think I hold - and keep, mind you - my position of power simply because my followers are afraid of me?"
Sam said nothing, but gave the Devil a curious look.
The Devil tilted his head towards Sam and nudged him gently. "Let me put it another way. Do you truly believe that the greatest leaders throughout history only got their power from fear? The President? The Pope? The greatest kings, queens, emperors, and czars? What about Alexander the Great or Julius Caesar? Or even," the Devil glanced towards the ceiling, "you-know-who Himself?"
He then looked back to Sam. "Do you honestly believe people worshipped them, obeyed them, and in some cases followed them to their deaths, simply because they were afraid of what would happen to them if they didn't? Is that how you think I managed to convince a third of heaven to rebel with me and ultimately follow me into this place?"
"No," Sam said slowly. "Not when you put it like that."
"When I brought you here, Sam, I could have just ordered everyone to obey your instructions. And they would have, no question about that." The Devil shot Sam a significant look. "I could have simply given you power, but I didn't. Why is that?"
The truth dawned. "You wanted everyone here to respect me."
"Good boy, Sam," the Devil beamed. "And you only get respect by earning it. It can't be given to you simply because someone else orders others to give it to you."
Sam sighed. "Yeah, I think Ted's got that poster in his office."
The Devil laughed. "You did an excellent job earning respect here, Sammy. You turned your staff, nearly two dozen High Lords, and pretty much every demon you've met into allies of yours. Kiwi here nearly gave up his life for you. Even Leviathan came to your aid, when technically he could have waited until after you were dead. It would have been easy for him to insure Astaroth would take all the retribution for your death."
Sam leaned back against the couch as he digested what the Devil was telling him. He quietly kept listening as the Devil continued to explain.
"Now when you return - and yes, Sam, there will be other times when I will bring you back here - and I give you other assignments where you will need to be in charge, you and I both know how very few problems you will have with the demons you will need to work with."
The Devil smiled and tried to ruffle Sam's hair, but Sam weakly waved him off. "Heck, I wouldn't even be surprised if you had half of Hell lining up to help you voluntarily, kiddo. You have definitely made quite the impression here. Like I've been saying, Sammy, of the many things I adore about you, the fact that I never have to worry about you ranks up there at the top of the list."
Sam was still confused, however. "I still don't understand how this explains why you're letting Astaroth keep his power, after all he did. I thought you were punishing him. Your full wrath, you said."
"Think about it," the Devil prompted him. "Compare how everyone will treat you as a leader, versus how they will treat Astaroth, who has retained his power only due to my word."
Suddenly, everything was clear. "You're punishing him by humiliating him."
"Guilty as sin, sport. Never deny the power of humilation, Sam. As much fun as it can be when I'm just messing around for no reason, it is also a very powerful tool if a lesson needs to be learned. Humiliation can bring even the most powerful to their knees. But you're forgetting the best part, Sammy."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"
The Devil grinned broadly. "As a Prince, Astaroth still has to attend your meetings." He actually rubbed his hands together in glee. "Just imagine Astaroth's humiliation! Forced to attend daily meetings with all the other High Lords who know about his failed plans and crushing defeat; required to clean up his own self-induced breach under the very public eyes of all of Hell; obliged to accept advice from a slave - and even worse, the very same slave that brought him down." The Devil couldn't look happier. "I might even have to show up to see that."
"You really are evil."
"I'll take that as a compliment, Sam."
Sam gave a slight nod. "I guess I can afford to compliment you once. After all, Astaroth did try and kill me." Then he remembered something, and he accused the Devil. "Wait. Back in my office you called me lazy. You already knew Astaroth was the culprit."
"Yeah, I'll admit I was kinda disappointed you didn't get the hint."
"If you already knew, then why did you need me?"
The Devil gave a wry look. "Technically, I didn't know. I only suspected. I told you Astaroth had only just started his lies about Leviathan right before you showed up. And I hate to admit it, but as much as I love to punish people, it only really works best if it's the right person. I wasn't 100 percent sure yet it was Astaroth. There was no real proof."
"And you have your proof now?"
"Of course."
"Was it really necessary to topple all the stacks?"
"You did say you couldn't figure your problem out. I thought a little push might help." The Devil chuckled at his own joke.
"So not funny. Remind me never to ask you for help again."
"No problem. I'll keep it in mind the very next time you beg me for information on a case you're working on."
Sam let his head drop in frustration. He'd walked into that. Too bad the action just re-intensified his still pounding headache.
"I have to say, Sammy, your notes showed the pattern right away, before you even noticed it. You do good work, buddy."
"You went through my notes?"
"Of course. When you were at dinner and during your meetings. I always go through your stuff, kiddo. That shoebox you hide under your bed, though, has me stumped. What's with the used movie tickets?"
"Don't."
"Or the chewed up pencils?"
Sam sighed. "It's just some small stuff I've collected over the years to remind me of Andi. The tickets were from the first time we ever went to a movie together. And Andi always chews her pencils when she's nervous, mainly when she's afraid Ted isn't falling for her latest prank. Now knock it off."
"Aww. Stolen mementoes. So cute, if not a bit stalkerish and creepy. I approve."
"..aaaaand that box is so gonna get burned the second I get home."
They sat in silence for a moment before Sam finally asked his question.
"I am going to be able to go home someday, right?"
"Yes, Sam. You will go back home. But it will take you a little while, especially now that several of the files have been lost." The Devil gave Sam a compassionate look. "I'll tell you what. You've done such great job, and I am so proud of you, I'm going to do you a solid. Instead of returning us to 99, I'll let you go home when you get to 98. I figure at the rate you and your staff work, you might be able to make it back home by your birthday. That's only two months away."
Sam acknowledged the lowered goal gratefully, even if it was still hard to bear the thought of another two months in Hell. "Thank you. But I think I might need to help out on Earth when we finally get to the harder cases. For one, I might need access to the internet."
"If it comes to that, we can work out an arrangement when the time comes. No home though."
"Alright." Sam looked over at the Devil and decided to test his luck. "I'm not really your pawn, am I?"
The Devil conceded. "No. But you already know that."
"So what position am I?"
The Devil smiled. "What position do you want to be?"
Sam thought about it. "I want to be the bishop."
The Devil appraised Sam carefully. "You're not religious, Sammy."
"Still," Sam mused, "the irony of a holy piece helping the black king doesn't escape me. I do good for evil." Sam gave a quick glance at the Devil. "I mean, at least for right now."
Damn. The boy was good. So close. "Okay fine, Sam. You can be the bishop."
"Nice." Sam leaned back, satisfied. He was still idly petting Kiwi, who had long since settled into Sam's lap.
Time to distract Sam before he asked any more questions. The Devil got a mischievous grin and pulled a small notebook out of his pocket. "Hey, want to know what Andi's been saying about you in her diary?"
Sam eyed the book in disbelief. "You are unbelievable! Put that back! You don't own her and that's her personal property you're invading. Haven't you put me through enough hell this week?" His shoulders slumped. "You know how badly it ended between us. Why would I want to hear about how much she hates me?"
"You never know, kiddo," the Devil nudged him. "Absence can make the heart grow fonder."
Sam groaned in exasperation. "How would you know? You don't have a heart."
"Yeah. It does make things easier." He perked up and reached over to get the two game controllers. He handed one to Sam. "Let’s play."
"No."
"C'mon, Sammy. No one ever wants to play with me." The Devil pouted. "I'll even let you win."
"You are such a liar. I'm not going to play any game with you, especially ones I already know I'll lose."
The Devil eyed him approvingly. Then he solemnly said, "You know, Sam, that's quite possibly the smartest decision you will ever make with me." He leaned back and sighed. "Fine, then. I'll let you get a few shots off to make it seem like you could win."
Sam studied him tiredly and with great suspicion. His head still hurt, and he was still exhausted beyond belief. All he really wanted to do was go back to sleep. But the Devil looked too pathetic.
Sam took pity and gave in. "Alright. Hand it over."
The Devil smiled and Sam took the controller. The Devil restarted the game - and promptly killed Sam's character.
He gave Sam an impish grin and leaned over to him playfully. "You didn't specify exactly when you wanted that close game."
Sam just muttered an "of course" as his exhaustion got the better of him, and he collapsed back onto the floor and rolled his eyes.