Some Say the World Will End (Perish Twice 5/5)
Title: Some Say the World Will End (5/5)
Author: secondplatypus
Pairing: Sam/Lucifer
Rating: R
Warnings: angst and an orgasm
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 1422 (8241 total)
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all characters therein are the property of Eric Kripke and the WB/CW, I'm just borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes.
Summary: Revelations, realizations, aftermaths, angst, and a sacrifice.
Author's notes: There will be a short epilogue, and it's almost complete, so there won't be much in the way of a wait for it.
I'm terribly sorry for the lack of consistency in posting lately, my writer's block decided to attack with a vengeance. I've had this drafted for ages, but it just didn't feel like being written - I finally buckled down yesterday and wrote the damn thing.
Previous Chapter:
part four - Fire and Ice
Sam's orgasm burned like holy fire around Lucifer, taking him so high the Morningstar could have sworn he nearly touched Heaven.
It was rapture, it was perfection, it was the embrace of another Seraph's wings, it was the voice of God, it was every beautiful moment Lucifer had ever experienced and then some combined into a single, blinding whole that hurled Lucifer into ecstasy.
Lucifer's grace rushed into Sam's soul, melding the essences of archangel and true vessel into one.
The marks in Sam's flesh disappeared as the dark threads Sam had been marked with when Lucifer met him were obliterated, making him anew, body and spirit. Without the addiction, pain, and guilt tarnishing his soul, Sam was unlike any mortal Lucifer had ever seen, shining like the amber-golden tones of a smoldering fire, like whiskey and honey and sunlight.
The purification of Sam breathed new life into the burnt-out Morningstar; he could feel the hole in his grace left behind by Abdiel and his brothers filling as the breaking flesh of his vessel healed. Behind his closed eyelids, Lucifer could see a shell of shifting light outlining his grace, warming, shielding, and completing him.
As Sam regained consciousness, he was vaguely aware of a body falling forwards on top of him, catching itself on its elbows at the last minute and rolling away to lie beside him. Sam took deep breaths, reveling in the feel of the cool night air on his skin as he relaxed in the afterglow of a sexual encounter so intense it practically qualified as a religious experience. As the blissful haze shrouding his brain lifted, the last words he'd said before his world had been turned upside down came back to him, and he sat bolt upright.
"Oh God, Lucifer, yes."
Sam had said yes to the Devil.
The hours of research Sam had done taught him that context didn't matter; it could be an answer to the most mundane or important of questions, when it came to the Devil, any "yes" in conjunction with Lucifer's name could be taken as permission. He'd just doomed billions of people and potentially destroyed the entire world without even meaning to because he'd lost control while having sex with Lucifer - an act that never should have happened in the first place and had probably earned him a one-way ticket to Hell.
Lucifer saw Sam's soul contract, then turn completely black as the lethal filaments of despair and guilt Lucifer's grace had chased away returned, binding it tight.
The interior of Sam's head was all chaos and pain and frantic syllables that echoed his disbelief at the new low he'd sunk to -- destroyed. failure. destroyed. failure. -- self-flagellation ripping through him for the stupidity he'd shown by giving in to Lucifer so easily.
Beneath the repetition of those words in Sam's mind lay raw, naked betrayal and abject misery unlike anything Lucifer had seen since he'd raised his sword against Michael all those years ago when they battled for Heaven. Something had broken in his brother that day, and now Sam was shattering before his eyes, the splintered pieces forming the same pattern he'd seen in Michael.
"Sam," Lucifer said.
His voice fell on deaf ears; Sam was too far gone to listen.
As Lucifer watched, he could see Sam falling apart a little more with each thought, and he couldn't stand it.
Sam thought that everything about this was designed to trick him into saying yes, and he couldn't have been more wrong. Whatever Lucifer's motivations had been to begin with, he hadn't planned on tricking Sam into saying yes with sex. Possess Sam under these conditions, and his soul would eat itself alive, destroying the light Lucifer thrived on. He didn't know how long the protective cocoon of warmth his union with Sam had created would last; more than likely, it would deteriorate over time. Without the glorious essence that made Sam what he was, Lucifer's perfect vessel would be nothing more than meat, no better than the one he occupied now, and as the shield of heat and light and Sam around him crumbled, so too would his once-flawless vessel. The abyssal void within him would return, and with it, that hideous cold, fed by the inexorable seep of frigid despair through the gaps in the flesh that coated him - and without Sam, there would be no hope of respite.
Lucifer was well aware of the fact that this could be his only opportunity to claim the vessel that had been created for him and him alone, and if he didn't seize it, the Apocalypse might never come to pass, but the price on the vengeance that could come from the confrontation with Michael was too high. Lucifer would rather take his chances than risk damning himself to that bitter, glacial grasp and having the destruction of Sam Winchester on his conscience for all eternity.
Sam's whirling thoughts gained speed, trapping his mind in a vicious vortex as the thick, impenetrable darkness surrounding his soul squeezed harder.
"SAM," Lucifer yelled at him, a mixture of true voice and vessel-voice that splintered the door-frames, shattered the light fixtures, and sent networks of webbed fissures through the windows and mirror. In the aftermath of the almighty sound, complete silence filled the room, save for the soft crackle of hairline fractures traveling through glass.
The activity in Sam's brain screeched to a halt.
Lucifer's fingers brushed against his wrist, the touch gentle as the caress of breath against skin. With the soft burn of the Devil's essence, Sam felt a sharp, familiar pain as Lucifer etched an Enochian symbol into the bone of his left wrist.
"I've just marked you with an anti-possession sigil specific to me, that can only be circumvented by an ancient, obscure spell that requires ingredients so rare, they're nearly impossible to find.
If you want to consent, you'll have to gather them first and perform the spell's ritual to the letter. There will be no accidents here, Sam; a single syllable shouldn't be enough to damn you, and it won't be."
Lucifer molded one of his hands to Sam's face, trying to meet eyes that wouldn't look up and brushing tears from Sam's skin as he caressed lips and cheekbones.
When Lucifer spoke, there was a tenderness in his voice that soothed Sam to his core, "I know what you think of me, but there are things even I won't take advantage of."
Lucifer touched his forehead to Sam's, causing him to fall into a deep sleep. The Devil cradled Sam's head, guiding it down to rest on the pillow. With one hand on Sam's cheek and the other just above his heart, Lucifer began erasing every memory Sam had of what had happened between them, leaving behind only the information that would be necessary for Sam to understand the purpose of the list of ingredients and words to the spell Lucifer left by his pillow. Lucifer poured his grace into the memory-wipe until every scrap of darkness in Sam was gone, then added a little more so no-one, not even Michael, would have been able to trace it, or even tell it had been performed in the first place. His older brother may have been more powerful, but Lucifer still had a trick or two up his sleeve.
When the task of restoring Sam's soul was complete, Lucifer searched the room for the feather he'd left with Sam. Much as he wished he could leave Sam with that token, it would be too risky given the spells that could be used to target him if the feather fell into the wrong hands -- and unfortunately, under these circumstances, Sam's hands qualified.
After he'd found it between the pages of a book buried in the bottom of Sam's bag, Lucifer returned to Sam's bedside to enjoy the company of the man he loved for a few more precious moments before saying goodbye. Lucifer laced their fingers together and bent his head to the peacefully slumbering man, trying to ignore the tear that slid down his cheek as he kissed Sam one last time.
When Lucifer's lips met Sam's, he felt something flare in the golden light shining above Sam's heart, stretching towards him. Lucifer reached out with his grace to meet the radiant wisp, and what he felt there brought him to his knees.
A loud, hollow thump startled Sam awake. When he turned his head towards the sound, nothing was there.
the Epilogue
Author: secondplatypus
Pairing: Sam/Lucifer
Rating: R
Warnings: angst and an orgasm
Spoilers: none
Word Count: 1422 (8241 total)
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all characters therein are the property of Eric Kripke and the WB/CW, I'm just borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes.
Summary: Revelations, realizations, aftermaths, angst, and a sacrifice.
Author's notes: There will be a short epilogue, and it's almost complete, so there won't be much in the way of a wait for it.
I'm terribly sorry for the lack of consistency in posting lately, my writer's block decided to attack with a vengeance. I've had this drafted for ages, but it just didn't feel like being written - I finally buckled down yesterday and wrote the damn thing.
Previous Chapter:
part four - Fire and Ice
Sam's orgasm burned like holy fire around Lucifer, taking him so high the Morningstar could have sworn he nearly touched Heaven.
It was rapture, it was perfection, it was the embrace of another Seraph's wings, it was the voice of God, it was every beautiful moment Lucifer had ever experienced and then some combined into a single, blinding whole that hurled Lucifer into ecstasy.
Lucifer's grace rushed into Sam's soul, melding the essences of archangel and true vessel into one.
The marks in Sam's flesh disappeared as the dark threads Sam had been marked with when Lucifer met him were obliterated, making him anew, body and spirit. Without the addiction, pain, and guilt tarnishing his soul, Sam was unlike any mortal Lucifer had ever seen, shining like the amber-golden tones of a smoldering fire, like whiskey and honey and sunlight.
The purification of Sam breathed new life into the burnt-out Morningstar; he could feel the hole in his grace left behind by Abdiel and his brothers filling as the breaking flesh of his vessel healed. Behind his closed eyelids, Lucifer could see a shell of shifting light outlining his grace, warming, shielding, and completing him.
As Sam regained consciousness, he was vaguely aware of a body falling forwards on top of him, catching itself on its elbows at the last minute and rolling away to lie beside him. Sam took deep breaths, reveling in the feel of the cool night air on his skin as he relaxed in the afterglow of a sexual encounter so intense it practically qualified as a religious experience. As the blissful haze shrouding his brain lifted, the last words he'd said before his world had been turned upside down came back to him, and he sat bolt upright.
"Oh God, Lucifer, yes."
Sam had said yes to the Devil.
The hours of research Sam had done taught him that context didn't matter; it could be an answer to the most mundane or important of questions, when it came to the Devil, any "yes" in conjunction with Lucifer's name could be taken as permission. He'd just doomed billions of people and potentially destroyed the entire world without even meaning to because he'd lost control while having sex with Lucifer - an act that never should have happened in the first place and had probably earned him a one-way ticket to Hell.
Lucifer saw Sam's soul contract, then turn completely black as the lethal filaments of despair and guilt Lucifer's grace had chased away returned, binding it tight.
The interior of Sam's head was all chaos and pain and frantic syllables that echoed his disbelief at the new low he'd sunk to -- destroyed. failure. destroyed. failure. -- self-flagellation ripping through him for the stupidity he'd shown by giving in to Lucifer so easily.
Beneath the repetition of those words in Sam's mind lay raw, naked betrayal and abject misery unlike anything Lucifer had seen since he'd raised his sword against Michael all those years ago when they battled for Heaven. Something had broken in his brother that day, and now Sam was shattering before his eyes, the splintered pieces forming the same pattern he'd seen in Michael.
"Sam," Lucifer said.
His voice fell on deaf ears; Sam was too far gone to listen.
As Lucifer watched, he could see Sam falling apart a little more with each thought, and he couldn't stand it.
Sam thought that everything about this was designed to trick him into saying yes, and he couldn't have been more wrong. Whatever Lucifer's motivations had been to begin with, he hadn't planned on tricking Sam into saying yes with sex. Possess Sam under these conditions, and his soul would eat itself alive, destroying the light Lucifer thrived on. He didn't know how long the protective cocoon of warmth his union with Sam had created would last; more than likely, it would deteriorate over time. Without the glorious essence that made Sam what he was, Lucifer's perfect vessel would be nothing more than meat, no better than the one he occupied now, and as the shield of heat and light and Sam around him crumbled, so too would his once-flawless vessel. The abyssal void within him would return, and with it, that hideous cold, fed by the inexorable seep of frigid despair through the gaps in the flesh that coated him - and without Sam, there would be no hope of respite.
Lucifer was well aware of the fact that this could be his only opportunity to claim the vessel that had been created for him and him alone, and if he didn't seize it, the Apocalypse might never come to pass, but the price on the vengeance that could come from the confrontation with Michael was too high. Lucifer would rather take his chances than risk damning himself to that bitter, glacial grasp and having the destruction of Sam Winchester on his conscience for all eternity.
Sam's whirling thoughts gained speed, trapping his mind in a vicious vortex as the thick, impenetrable darkness surrounding his soul squeezed harder.
"SAM," Lucifer yelled at him, a mixture of true voice and vessel-voice that splintered the door-frames, shattered the light fixtures, and sent networks of webbed fissures through the windows and mirror. In the aftermath of the almighty sound, complete silence filled the room, save for the soft crackle of hairline fractures traveling through glass.
The activity in Sam's brain screeched to a halt.
Lucifer's fingers brushed against his wrist, the touch gentle as the caress of breath against skin. With the soft burn of the Devil's essence, Sam felt a sharp, familiar pain as Lucifer etched an Enochian symbol into the bone of his left wrist.
"I've just marked you with an anti-possession sigil specific to me, that can only be circumvented by an ancient, obscure spell that requires ingredients so rare, they're nearly impossible to find.
If you want to consent, you'll have to gather them first and perform the spell's ritual to the letter. There will be no accidents here, Sam; a single syllable shouldn't be enough to damn you, and it won't be."
Lucifer molded one of his hands to Sam's face, trying to meet eyes that wouldn't look up and brushing tears from Sam's skin as he caressed lips and cheekbones.
When Lucifer spoke, there was a tenderness in his voice that soothed Sam to his core, "I know what you think of me, but there are things even I won't take advantage of."
Lucifer touched his forehead to Sam's, causing him to fall into a deep sleep. The Devil cradled Sam's head, guiding it down to rest on the pillow. With one hand on Sam's cheek and the other just above his heart, Lucifer began erasing every memory Sam had of what had happened between them, leaving behind only the information that would be necessary for Sam to understand the purpose of the list of ingredients and words to the spell Lucifer left by his pillow. Lucifer poured his grace into the memory-wipe until every scrap of darkness in Sam was gone, then added a little more so no-one, not even Michael, would have been able to trace it, or even tell it had been performed in the first place. His older brother may have been more powerful, but Lucifer still had a trick or two up his sleeve.
When the task of restoring Sam's soul was complete, Lucifer searched the room for the feather he'd left with Sam. Much as he wished he could leave Sam with that token, it would be too risky given the spells that could be used to target him if the feather fell into the wrong hands -- and unfortunately, under these circumstances, Sam's hands qualified.
After he'd found it between the pages of a book buried in the bottom of Sam's bag, Lucifer returned to Sam's bedside to enjoy the company of the man he loved for a few more precious moments before saying goodbye. Lucifer laced their fingers together and bent his head to the peacefully slumbering man, trying to ignore the tear that slid down his cheek as he kissed Sam one last time.
When Lucifer's lips met Sam's, he felt something flare in the golden light shining above Sam's heart, stretching towards him. Lucifer reached out with his grace to meet the radiant wisp, and what he felt there brought him to his knees.
A loud, hollow thump startled Sam awake. When he turned his head towards the sound, nothing was there.
the Epilogue