After the Fire | Gen, R | (3/3)
title: After the Fire
word-count:~12,000 (2,000 this chapter)
rating: R
characters: Sam, Dean, Zachariah, Lucifer
warnings: End!verse, blood, violence, disturbing imagery, torture
summary: Lucifer always kept his word, but he'd found a way to make Sam regret ever asking him to keep Dean safe.
part 1
part 2
part 3
They sat in silence for a long time, which had never been something Dean had been particularly good at. Maybe in the Impala-driving down the highway for hours upon hours, sure, after a while conversation stopped-even between him and Sam, but that's what music was for. There was no music here, no road and only one thing to talk about. And Dean was losing patience. He stood up and began to pace the room, walking past the door to outside a few times, eyes flicking back between the door and Lucifer, still inside of Sam, still immobile like he had nothing better to do then sit there and watch Dean sweat.
"You knew it wouldn't work. That's why you left the door open, right? So I could scream myself hoarse trying to get your brother's attention." Dean crouched down across from the archangel and tried to meet his eyes. Sam's eyes. "He ignored me. Michael's just as big a dick as you, I guess. Must run in the family."
Sam's large fingers closed around Dean's throat before he even saw him move. He picked Dean up by the throat like he weighed nothing, closing his fingers just a little tighter.
Dean struggled for air immediately, his own weight working against him as gravity pulled him down. Sam's knuckle pressed up into the soft tissue just behind his jaw bone, and Dean started to see stars.
"Don't talk about Michael like that," Lucifer said, Sam's eyes alight with rage.
Half a second later, Dean found himself on the floor, hand to his aching throat as he gasped for air. "Why not?" he growled, voice barely audible. "Because only you get to?"
Lucifer made a very Sam-like noise-something between a sharp laugh and a choked back sob. "Because he's dead. That's why he didn't answer you."
Dean's anger deflated, replaced by shock. "You killed him?"
For a moment, Dean thought he'd gone to far. The look in the Devil's eyes promised annihilation, and in his case looks could most definitely kill. Then he ran his fingers through his hair, and looked so much like Sam , Dean thought his brother had taken the wheel again.
"No." His voice was quiet, not angry anymore but heavy with sorrow. "I didn't kill my brother. Sam did." He slumped back down against the wall, and watched Dean, like he was waiting for an answer.
"Come again?" Dean asked.
"Your brother-" Lucifer stopped and his lips curled up in a half-snarl. "He was smart. Very smart, for a human."
"Yeah. Newsflash: Sam's not a lightweight in the brains department. What's your point?" Dean asked, trying to squash down the uneasy feeling in his gut.
"A true vessel is more than just a body for us," Lucifer said, holding out Sam's hands and staring down at them like they were something wondrous. "It's the perfect conduit. It not only lets us interact with this world in a very focused, physical way, but it lets us experience things the way you do. Feel, smell, taste-like a human." He met Dean's eyes again just long enough to add. "It's disgusting. At least, I thought so at first."
"Of course you did."
"But we ask for permission. That's the key. The human soul and body agree to become one with us." He flexed Sam's fingers and then folded them in, making fists. "Sam agreed. He said 'yes,' and we became one whole."
Dean's sense of queasiness came roaring back. He fought back the urge to grab his brother's shoulders and shake him until Lucifer left his eyes, but that wouldn't help either of them. He had to be patient.
"I learned from him…and he learned from me."
"You really, like the sound of your own voice, don't you?" Dean said.
"My voice was all I had to keep me company for millennia," Lucifer said, and kept right on going. "I gave Sam a gift when he was very young. Made him strong. With enough practice and the right kind of fuel he could have been as strong as me." He smiled then, sadly. "Together we were unstoppable. My power and his fed each other." His eyes turned upwards and he looked at the ceiling. "My brethren sent legions after me…but everyone that stood against me fell. Every single one."
"You slaughtered your family. Goodie on you."
Lucifer glared at Dean, who admonished himself yet again for being unable to control his tongue.
"I defended myself. I was defending myself, that's all. And then Michael…" He swallowed and his face held more emotion than Dean had ever seen the angel show. "Sam learned from me too. That's the thing. He was smart." Lucifer tapped one of Sam's long fingers against the side of his head. "He knew exactly how my power worked and when he knew you were going to say yes to Michael, he just-"
Dean's heart fell into his stomach. "Why do you keep talking about him like-"
"-he tore out of me and plunged into Michael-not just his vessel, into him. He tore him apart, and he took so much of me with him, I thought-" Lucifer's laugh was hysteria tinged. "I thought I was going to die, too." He shook his head, Sam's long hair shaking loose from behind his ears. "But I'm still here." He brought his right hand to his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully on the tip of his thumb. "I'm still here."
Dean's fear had taken hold of him fully and he stood, stalking towards Lucifer before he could stop himself. "You're here. And where's Sam?"
"Sam destroyed himself to take out Michael." Lucifer's eyes were shining. "He's dead."
Before he knew what he was doing, Dean had grabbed a hold of Sam's white t-shirt and hauled him to his feet. "Sammy?" he pleaded, searching his brother's eyes for any flicker of recognition.
"He's dead," Lucifer said again.
"So bring him back!" Dean snarled. "You've done it before, right? You brought me back hundreds of times, so just-"
"There's nothing left to bring back." Sam's tall frame was heavy in Dean's grip, and Lucifer wasn't making much of an effort to stand on his own.
Dean's fist collided with Sam's jaw and he yelled, "Bring him back!"
"I can't!" A trickle of blood ran down from his split bottom lip, and Lucifer licked at it curiously, his eyes widening. "Sam's soul is gone. He used his own soul as a weapon," Lucifer said, like it was a revelation. "He pulled my power inside of him and used it all against Michael. I didn't know he could do that. Maybe it was all the angel blood…"
When Dean let go, Lucifer slumped back against the wall, leaning against it like he didn't even have the energy to straighten his knees. He brought his hand gingerly to his jaw, like it ached.
For a moment the world around him was completely silent-a soft buzzing inside Dean's skull blocked out everything else and he couldn't hold onto a single solid thought. His gaze drifted to the still-open door, and he walked to it, without really knowing why.
"Where are you going?" Lucifer asked.
Dean didn't answer. He went outside and walked in a stupor, with no clear goal in his mind. He longed for something to fight, for something to kill, but the streets were empty except for the occasional rat.
After a while, he found himself inside of the hardware store and then a while later, the medical supply store. His body was on auto-pilot, hands moving independently of his mind, which was still devoid of any clear thought.
His awareness started to come back a few steps away from Lucifer's door. He hadn't consciously planned to return, his feet had just carried him there, because that's where he was supposed to be.
Hand on the doorknob, he froze and thought about his options. The world around him was dying. There were probably still survivors elsewhere-little pockets of humanity that had escaped the Croatoan virus and dodged the fallout from demonic or angelic combat. If he set out to find them, he would. He could teach them how to fight back, how to protect themselves. He could help them rebuild. If everything Lucifer had said was true, then they wouldn't have many angels left to deal with anymore at least.
If everything Lucifer had said was true.
Lucifer had no reason to lie to him.
Sam was dead.
The door creaked when it opened into the white room, but closed silently when Dean pushed it shut from inside, the wall sealing up completely, erasing every trace of the exit. He ran his finger along the wall, seeking out hidden grooves or a change in texture, but there was nothing. Just a cold, flat surface.
Lucifer hadn't moved from his spot against the wall, but he looked up when Dean approached. "I'm still bleeding," he said, holding up a red-stained fingertip. "You broke my tooth, I think."
Dean kneeled down across from Lucifer and set down the shopping bag he'd filled at the hardware store. He pulled out his tools one by one and laid them on the ground to his left, sorted by type.
"My jaw still hurts," Lucifer added. His eyes fell on the collection Dean was assembling. "How long does it take for the pain to go away?"
The medical supply store had held a whole collection of organizers. Dean had selected three and filled them all. One for each style of blade. "Depends," Dean said as he pulled the aluminum safety wrapper off of the three inch scalpel blade. "Sometimes the pain sticks around a long time."
"What are you doing?" Lucifer asked, watching as Dean unwrapped the rest of the knives one by one.
"You and I haven't had a good chance to get to know each other. Not really." Dean picked up the battery-powered drill from the hardware store and popped in the smallest bit he could find.
"Are you going to build something?" Lucifer asked.
"Yup." Dean laid the drill back on the floor and reached into the bag of syringes he'd picked up and began filling them with the small brown vials he'd found in the pharmaceutical section.
"What are you building?"
"How does this room work?" Dean asked.
Lucifer tilted his head to the side, confused.
"This room-it's why I heal so fast, right?"
"No," Lucifer huffed. "Is that what you thought?" He shook his head. "That was all Sam."
"Sam healed me?" Dean asked. "Not you?"
Lucifer nodded, the corner of his mouth curving into a smile. "I would have let you die every time." His lip split open again where it had just started to heal, a bright red drop forming in the center. "I would've brought you back of course-"
"Of course." Dean picked up the smallest of the scalpel blades and brought it to Lucifer's cheek. "How about now? If I get hurt now, will you heal me? Or bring me back after I die?"
Lucifer swallowed, as his eyes turned towards the blade. "I don't think I can. I'm not even sure I can heal myself anymore."
Dean's lips quirked as the tip of his scalpel drew a bright red bead of blood from Lucifer's cheek. It ran down the underside of Sam's cheekbone and dripped straight down, leaving a perfect red circle on the clean white floor. "Let's find out."
word-count:~12,000 (2,000 this chapter)
rating: R
characters: Sam, Dean, Zachariah, Lucifer
warnings: End!verse, blood, violence, disturbing imagery, torture
summary: Lucifer always kept his word, but he'd found a way to make Sam regret ever asking him to keep Dean safe.
part 1
part 2
part 3
They sat in silence for a long time, which had never been something Dean had been particularly good at. Maybe in the Impala-driving down the highway for hours upon hours, sure, after a while conversation stopped-even between him and Sam, but that's what music was for. There was no music here, no road and only one thing to talk about. And Dean was losing patience. He stood up and began to pace the room, walking past the door to outside a few times, eyes flicking back between the door and Lucifer, still inside of Sam, still immobile like he had nothing better to do then sit there and watch Dean sweat.
"You knew it wouldn't work. That's why you left the door open, right? So I could scream myself hoarse trying to get your brother's attention." Dean crouched down across from the archangel and tried to meet his eyes. Sam's eyes. "He ignored me. Michael's just as big a dick as you, I guess. Must run in the family."
Sam's large fingers closed around Dean's throat before he even saw him move. He picked Dean up by the throat like he weighed nothing, closing his fingers just a little tighter.
Dean struggled for air immediately, his own weight working against him as gravity pulled him down. Sam's knuckle pressed up into the soft tissue just behind his jaw bone, and Dean started to see stars.
"Don't talk about Michael like that," Lucifer said, Sam's eyes alight with rage.
Half a second later, Dean found himself on the floor, hand to his aching throat as he gasped for air. "Why not?" he growled, voice barely audible. "Because only you get to?"
Lucifer made a very Sam-like noise-something between a sharp laugh and a choked back sob. "Because he's dead. That's why he didn't answer you."
Dean's anger deflated, replaced by shock. "You killed him?"
For a moment, Dean thought he'd gone to far. The look in the Devil's eyes promised annihilation, and in his case looks could most definitely kill. Then he ran his fingers through his hair, and looked so much like Sam , Dean thought his brother had taken the wheel again.
"No." His voice was quiet, not angry anymore but heavy with sorrow. "I didn't kill my brother. Sam did." He slumped back down against the wall, and watched Dean, like he was waiting for an answer.
"Come again?" Dean asked.
"Your brother-" Lucifer stopped and his lips curled up in a half-snarl. "He was smart. Very smart, for a human."
"Yeah. Newsflash: Sam's not a lightweight in the brains department. What's your point?" Dean asked, trying to squash down the uneasy feeling in his gut.
"A true vessel is more than just a body for us," Lucifer said, holding out Sam's hands and staring down at them like they were something wondrous. "It's the perfect conduit. It not only lets us interact with this world in a very focused, physical way, but it lets us experience things the way you do. Feel, smell, taste-like a human." He met Dean's eyes again just long enough to add. "It's disgusting. At least, I thought so at first."
"Of course you did."
"But we ask for permission. That's the key. The human soul and body agree to become one with us." He flexed Sam's fingers and then folded them in, making fists. "Sam agreed. He said 'yes,' and we became one whole."
Dean's sense of queasiness came roaring back. He fought back the urge to grab his brother's shoulders and shake him until Lucifer left his eyes, but that wouldn't help either of them. He had to be patient.
"I learned from him…and he learned from me."
"You really, like the sound of your own voice, don't you?" Dean said.
"My voice was all I had to keep me company for millennia," Lucifer said, and kept right on going. "I gave Sam a gift when he was very young. Made him strong. With enough practice and the right kind of fuel he could have been as strong as me." He smiled then, sadly. "Together we were unstoppable. My power and his fed each other." His eyes turned upwards and he looked at the ceiling. "My brethren sent legions after me…but everyone that stood against me fell. Every single one."
"You slaughtered your family. Goodie on you."
Lucifer glared at Dean, who admonished himself yet again for being unable to control his tongue.
"I defended myself. I was defending myself, that's all. And then Michael…" He swallowed and his face held more emotion than Dean had ever seen the angel show. "Sam learned from me too. That's the thing. He was smart." Lucifer tapped one of Sam's long fingers against the side of his head. "He knew exactly how my power worked and when he knew you were going to say yes to Michael, he just-"
Dean's heart fell into his stomach. "Why do you keep talking about him like-"
"-he tore out of me and plunged into Michael-not just his vessel, into him. He tore him apart, and he took so much of me with him, I thought-" Lucifer's laugh was hysteria tinged. "I thought I was going to die, too." He shook his head, Sam's long hair shaking loose from behind his ears. "But I'm still here." He brought his right hand to his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully on the tip of his thumb. "I'm still here."
Dean's fear had taken hold of him fully and he stood, stalking towards Lucifer before he could stop himself. "You're here. And where's Sam?"
"Sam destroyed himself to take out Michael." Lucifer's eyes were shining. "He's dead."
Before he knew what he was doing, Dean had grabbed a hold of Sam's white t-shirt and hauled him to his feet. "Sammy?" he pleaded, searching his brother's eyes for any flicker of recognition.
"He's dead," Lucifer said again.
"So bring him back!" Dean snarled. "You've done it before, right? You brought me back hundreds of times, so just-"
"There's nothing left to bring back." Sam's tall frame was heavy in Dean's grip, and Lucifer wasn't making much of an effort to stand on his own.
Dean's fist collided with Sam's jaw and he yelled, "Bring him back!"
"I can't!" A trickle of blood ran down from his split bottom lip, and Lucifer licked at it curiously, his eyes widening. "Sam's soul is gone. He used his own soul as a weapon," Lucifer said, like it was a revelation. "He pulled my power inside of him and used it all against Michael. I didn't know he could do that. Maybe it was all the angel blood…"
When Dean let go, Lucifer slumped back against the wall, leaning against it like he didn't even have the energy to straighten his knees. He brought his hand gingerly to his jaw, like it ached.
For a moment the world around him was completely silent-a soft buzzing inside Dean's skull blocked out everything else and he couldn't hold onto a single solid thought. His gaze drifted to the still-open door, and he walked to it, without really knowing why.
"Where are you going?" Lucifer asked.
Dean didn't answer. He went outside and walked in a stupor, with no clear goal in his mind. He longed for something to fight, for something to kill, but the streets were empty except for the occasional rat.
After a while, he found himself inside of the hardware store and then a while later, the medical supply store. His body was on auto-pilot, hands moving independently of his mind, which was still devoid of any clear thought.
His awareness started to come back a few steps away from Lucifer's door. He hadn't consciously planned to return, his feet had just carried him there, because that's where he was supposed to be.
Hand on the doorknob, he froze and thought about his options. The world around him was dying. There were probably still survivors elsewhere-little pockets of humanity that had escaped the Croatoan virus and dodged the fallout from demonic or angelic combat. If he set out to find them, he would. He could teach them how to fight back, how to protect themselves. He could help them rebuild. If everything Lucifer had said was true, then they wouldn't have many angels left to deal with anymore at least.
If everything Lucifer had said was true.
Lucifer had no reason to lie to him.
Sam was dead.
The door creaked when it opened into the white room, but closed silently when Dean pushed it shut from inside, the wall sealing up completely, erasing every trace of the exit. He ran his finger along the wall, seeking out hidden grooves or a change in texture, but there was nothing. Just a cold, flat surface.
Lucifer hadn't moved from his spot against the wall, but he looked up when Dean approached. "I'm still bleeding," he said, holding up a red-stained fingertip. "You broke my tooth, I think."
Dean kneeled down across from Lucifer and set down the shopping bag he'd filled at the hardware store. He pulled out his tools one by one and laid them on the ground to his left, sorted by type.
"My jaw still hurts," Lucifer added. His eyes fell on the collection Dean was assembling. "How long does it take for the pain to go away?"
The medical supply store had held a whole collection of organizers. Dean had selected three and filled them all. One for each style of blade. "Depends," Dean said as he pulled the aluminum safety wrapper off of the three inch scalpel blade. "Sometimes the pain sticks around a long time."
"What are you doing?" Lucifer asked, watching as Dean unwrapped the rest of the knives one by one.
"You and I haven't had a good chance to get to know each other. Not really." Dean picked up the battery-powered drill from the hardware store and popped in the smallest bit he could find.
"Are you going to build something?" Lucifer asked.
"Yup." Dean laid the drill back on the floor and reached into the bag of syringes he'd picked up and began filling them with the small brown vials he'd found in the pharmaceutical section.
"What are you building?"
"How does this room work?" Dean asked.
Lucifer tilted his head to the side, confused.
"This room-it's why I heal so fast, right?"
"No," Lucifer huffed. "Is that what you thought?" He shook his head. "That was all Sam."
"Sam healed me?" Dean asked. "Not you?"
Lucifer nodded, the corner of his mouth curving into a smile. "I would have let you die every time." His lip split open again where it had just started to heal, a bright red drop forming in the center. "I would've brought you back of course-"
"Of course." Dean picked up the smallest of the scalpel blades and brought it to Lucifer's cheek. "How about now? If I get hurt now, will you heal me? Or bring me back after I die?"
Lucifer swallowed, as his eyes turned towards the blade. "I don't think I can. I'm not even sure I can heal myself anymore."
Dean's lips quirked as the tip of his scalpel drew a bright red bead of blood from Lucifer's cheek. It ran down the underside of Sam's cheekbone and dripped straight down, leaving a perfect red circle on the clean white floor. "Let's find out."