Welcome to Wednesday everybody. So, I am your intended host for this week, and while I am currently on a worryingly high dose of pain medication after a ruptured and later removed appendix (it’s not there anymore! Why does it still huuuuuurt?!) I will try to make these last two days as coherent as possible! Contact high from reading my post is
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Lucifer's hand, similar to Castiel's, left an imprint on Sam. However, unlike Castiel, Lucifer chose to hide himself on Sam's soul.
Usually Sam can block him out, the soft whispers that felt too much like a cartoon devil on his shoulder. But when he's looking at the rain and everything is quiet he can still hear that awful voice chanting in his ear.
Dean is snoring behind him and there's work to be done but the devil never sleeps. The rain keeps hitting the window and the clouds keep moving. Who would have thought Sam's own personal hell would have the soundtrack of silence accompanied by roaring commentary? Sam didn't.
He hadn't wanted anything really. He just wanted things back to where they were. And they were. After all, the rain still comes and the days still end, and now Sam still knows he'll always be the devil's vessel.
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