SOUL - TO - SOUL

By: Karen B.

Summary: Season Five Spoiler. 5-22. Swan Song. Sam's inner struggle with Lucifer.

Disclaimer: Not the owner.

Rated: Ack! I don't know. The show was so moving and poetic and powerful. I feel like I might bust wide open…thus… I had to write something…anything. One way of spilling your guts. LOL

Thank you for chancing a read.

Sunshine even in rain,

Karen

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The world around me exploded and had disappeared into a dream-like state of unknowing. I could feel Lucifer growing, bubbling inside, and filling me with impeccable doom. I tumbled in turmoil not even sure I had a heartbeat. For a long time, there was only darkness, empty promises, and poison. Lucifer beat me down, skewered my guts, wrapped around my very being constricting and anchoring me to him. He may have been an angel once, but now he was pure demon. I couldn't fight him and sunk to the bottom of his icy soul. Everything was black, ugly, and ominous. I couldn't move, and I was scared, but I wasn't alone. I could sense Dean near, could hear his soft whisper gently guiding me. My brother took away the blinders Lucifer kept trying to put on me. Lucifer failed to realize, he wasn't the only thing inside of me -- so was the depths of my brother's love. A love so strong it stirred me to move.

I lunged around my heart striking again and again trying to slow the all too fast beats. I could feel the muscles in my legs and arms strengthen as I gained control. I was a whirling storm searching my inner-self for the thing that would never stop -- unless I stopped it. I wasn't just fighting mentally, I was fighting physically. Lucifer wanted me, all of me, and he wanted me bad. But I wanted more. His will was no match for mine. Like a relentless, angry hornet, I went after him.

Once I fell, exhausted, lisping out short gasps of breath, and crawling through his filth like a wounded animal. I was shattered. I was broken. I was his. For how long, I didn't know. I lay in a heap of twisted-raw agonizing pain. Everything had gotten quiet. Really quiet. The God-awful monster inside of me must have found something else more entertaining as the bastard left me hanging, like wet, unwashed laundry on a line.

"Sammy," Dean called my name. "I won't leave you," he said.

The words lingered, echoing up and down the foul darkness that surrounded me. Dean was fighting with me and I wouldn't leave him either.

I got down off that clothesline and lurked in the shadows, stalking the darkness. Sometimes knowing who I was, other times, not so much. But I didn't stop. With a low, painful growl, I carved my name on the inside of my own flesh -- a reminder of who I was -- still am. I fought with all the power I had within me. I wouldn't let Dean down. Wouldn't let the devil win. Wouldn't give in. This was my body. My life. Lucifer would have no power over me.

Lucifer didn't like that very much; he tried to pull me under. Bury me down so deep within myself, even he'd forget the name of the dead carcass inside he'd have to haul around through eternity. I called for reinforcements, called upon my mother's passion, my father's fortitude, my brother's love. I kept moving. Searching. Refusing to give in. Through swirling darkness, I fought my way; finally coming soul-to-soul with Lucifer -- and yes, he had a soul -- a horrible, black, spore of a soul.

With both hands, I grabbed hold of his throat, wrapping one finger at a time slowly around his neck, and squeezing.

"You're not going anywhere with me. You are not going to win. This is my soul, and you can't have it."

I watched Lucifer's face turn red and my knuckles turn white as ivory tusks. I was armed to the hilt and aimed my weapons straight at the core of his evil essence. Love, perseverance, endurance, and resolve. Sights locked on the devil, I'd targeted him for execution.

I held the dick solid, pulled him down hard. Scrapped him against every sharp piece of jagged pain, guilt, and anger I knew to be inside of me. Lucifer, he'd underestimated this meat puppet. The angel turned demon, tried to scrabble away, desperately seeking a doorknob, any way out.

I could feel Dean fighting with me, like a brazen comet streaking through my veins.

I squeezed Lucifer's throat tighter and tighter. "You will never have any power over me," I growled as he crumbled at my feet.

Suddenly, there was the echo of familiar laughter, images of my life. The cornerstone of who I really was. The rustling wind blew through my hair, sunlight warmed my face, and I stared into the blood crusted, swollen eyes of my brother.

I gave a resigned sigh, "It's okay, Dean. It's okay."

The end