A/N: I own nothing blah blah blah …
Rated M for violence, blood, torture, possibly upsetting imagery and the general disturbing quality of whatever was going on in my head when I wrote this. I edited out the worst bits. It was necessary.
I just wanted to do a little thing about Sam and Lucifer in the cage but I got carried away and then it wasn't so little.
Sam felt a soft, cool hand on his forehead stroking gently. It felt so soothing on his burning skin. He tried to remember where he was, but his memory was blurry. He opened his eyes to see Jess sitting by his side on the bed, smiling down at him with concern. He knew he was in his apartment at Stanford, but he couldn't remember why he felt he wasn't supposed to be there. Everything in his mind was hazy.
"Jess?" He gasped. He didn't know why he was so surprised to see her, only that it felt like years had passed since he had.
"Shhh, it's OK," she whispered, keeping up the slow rhythmic brushes with her hand over his brow. "You're not well baby. You have a fever."
He stared up at her, taking in every detail of her face. She was so beautiful, so caring. Why did it make him feel so sad? When he concentrated hard enough he started to remember things like he'd seen them in a dream. When he closed his eyes to focus he saw flashes of images in his head, flooding his brain like an assault, and he sat bolt upright on the bed staring around him wildly.
"Lucifer …" he choked.
"Have you been having bad dreams again?" Jess asked him, pulling on his arm and forcing him to lie down again. She put her hand back on his head and ran her fingers slowly through his hair. "Maybe I should call the doctor. Is that what you've been having all these nightmares about?"
"This isn't …" he muttered, "is this real?"
"Of course this is real, Sam," she said. She leaned over him and kissed him gently on the lips, then used her free hand to slowly brush his cheek with her thumb. "You're starting to worry me."
Sam tried to think but his brain was so muddled. Maybe he really was sick; maybe the fever was causing his dreams. He looked back up at Jess, who smiled down at him, and he tried to figure out what was wrong here, but he couldn't think. Everything was foggy in his mind so he closed his eyes again and tried for a moment to will himself back to sleep. Something just didn't feel right.
He felt himself growing hotter. His body started to burn like he could feel the heat of flames licking his skin. When he opened his eyes he saw a blazing fire roaring around the entire room and right above him on the ceiling he saw Jess, wide-eyed and open-mouthed in pain and fear, pinned with blood dripping from the wide gash in her stomach.
"No …" he breathed, his memories came crashing back in waves as he stared up at Jess on the ceiling. "No, no, no! JESS!"
He tried to get up, to scramble away from it all, but the Jess that sat on the bed with him had him pinned tight. When he looked back at her she smiled sweetly as though she didn't even see what was happening around her. He tried to force her away but she was immovable, holing him down like it was nothing. Sam screamed when her smile turned into a wicked grin and her face slowly morphed into the unblemished face of Nick – the visage Lucifer would always take when it was 'time to play'. Lucifer laughed loudly, never taking his eyes away from Sam's face while he held it firmly between the palms of his hands, forcing him to look up as Jess continued to bleed and burn, still alive in the fire until the flames erupted in an explosion. Closing his eyes didn't help; he saw it all still through his eyelids.
"Sammy," Lucifer chuckled, slapping Sam's face gently, "you're getting better at breaking through to the memories aren't you. Of course, I'm not making it all that hard. The bit where you remember is my favourite. What's yours?"
When the explosion was over the apartment room disappeared and they were back in the cage in Hell. Lucifer was still stood by Sam's head, leering down at him. Sam turned his face the other way, swallowing back his screams. He tried to move but it was pointless; he was securely strapped by the arms, wrists, legs, and ankles with tight leather belts to a metal table. The room was the same as always. He'd never really thought about what he expected the Devil's cage to be like, but he hadn't been expecting it to be like this – a giant box with invisible walls, miles wide and as high as Hell could go. The only visible thing to show where the cage ended and the rest of Hell began was the faint blue glow around them where the unbroken line of Enochian sigils marked the cage walls where Lucifer couldn't pass. He'd seen Lucifer try to pass once, when they'd first landed in Hell.
Michael and Adam landed first, separating as they hit the molten floor. Adam saw Michael only for a short second before he took on the appearance of the only other human vessel he'd taken on Earth in thousands of years – John Winchester. But Adam didn't know this; he'd never seen the younger John. All he knew was that there was a brightly burning beast before him one minute, and a young man the next.
Fire blazed all around them in every direction and dark clouds were gathered over their heads a hundred miles up so that they couldn't see what was above them. But they were not normal clouds. Electricity flashed through it and thunder rumbled around them but the smog looked more like a demon cloud than anything else. The taste and smell of sweat and sizzling flesh filled up their throats and noses, making Adam cough and gag, but he was more afraid of the angels right now to even want to understand what was happening. He'd only wanted to see his mother again.
When Sam and Lucifer landed, Michael made straight for them, aiming to charge down his little brother before Lucifer could do anything. He stopped, however, before he could even get close to Lucifer, who had already taken on the image of Nick by the time he landed. Michael was frozen, unable to move an inch, as Lucifer's outstretched hand forced him to halt.
"No brother," Lucifer muttered. It was barely more than a whisper, and roaring flames and echoes of screaming souls should have drown out almost any noise, but he knew that Michael could hear him. "You're in my Kingdom now."
Michael was thrown backward a mile across the cage where he landed with such force that the sound reverberated right around Hell, making the chains holding tormented souls rattle and quake. As it turns out, no one could get out of the box, but Lucifer could let demons in. They came now in a storm, stampeding and clamouring to be the first one there to do their Master's bidding. New demons, Sam guessed. The older ones knew better and looked out only for themselves – why serve a caged Master when you can better serve yourself?
He saw their true faces for the first time. Vaguely resembling their human faces, but gnarled and twisted like a Picasso painted nightmare. Some had nails sticking out of their cheeks or eye sockets, or had their heads bent in such strange ways that their skulls had become angled forever. Some had limbs so disjointed that a stretched arm would hang down to their ankles or their ribs were bent and curling backwards making their mottled and scarred skin stretch sickeningly. Some of them were so deformed that Sam's mind couldn't process the words to even describe their appearance. Apparently there was only so many centuries of Hellish torture you could go through before your soul was torn and warped beyond healing even here.
The first wave steamrolled over Adam without effort and then continued straight on to Michael where they assailed him mercilessly. Many of them were torn apart by Michael's bare hands before they were given the chance to land a single wound on him, but Hell had an almost limitless pool of demons desperate to please their Father, and those demons who were destroyed were simply made whole again and set back onto him.
Sam spared Michael only a moment of thought; it was seeing his younger brother Adam being ripped and smashed and dragged away by a smaller group of demons that made Sam's throat close up. Adam had been in heaven only days ago, now here he was dragged into eternal damnation because of this petty feud between the angels. He turned to see another wave of demons hurtling his way and braced himself, but they stopped suddenly.
"Not this one," Lucifer said wagging a finger at the demons. His voice was so soft, so calm, but he didn't need to raise his voice to be heard and obeyed down here. "This one is mine."
Michael and Adam were overcome by demons. Michael stormed around the cage, fighting to get the monstrosities off him, but they crawled over him and piled on top, each wanting to take a piece of the fight. Sam was forced to watch as Adam – kept close by – was torn and tortured over and over again right before his eyes.
Lucifer ignored them both. He was the King of this world no matter which cocky demon thought he was in charge. He circled Sam, eying him intensely while deciding on what to do with him.
"Why not just let them get me?" Sam asked. He was ashamed of how his voice faltered and cracked. He'd wanted to sound strong, like he was sure Dean would have been, but the terror of his future of eternity swamped his mind and wrapped its nightmarish fingers around his throat.
"Oh no, Sam," Lucifer shook his head, never taking his unblinking eyes away from Sam's. "I think we'll just …"
But something stopped him. Sam turned his head and saw a blazing trail of white light racing toward them, burning a path through the demons to get to the cage. The invisible wall crackled and fizzed and one bright Enochian symbol burned so bright Sam had to turn away. A giant hand reached into the cage and snatched at Sam dragging him away from the torment. As he reached the wall, however, his soul separated from his body and he was left behind, gasping and aching on the scorching floor of Hell, while the dazzling creature took that other part of him away and back to the surface.
Lucifer was stunned into silence for a moment, but he soon gathered himself together again and reached out a hand to touch the walls of the cage. His palm sizzled and popped, and he snatched it back, growling in a fierce rage. When he looked down, the skin was bubbling and bone showed through. It took only a moment to heal again, but the look in Lucifer's eyes told Sam that it had hurt him and it had made him mad.
"Sammy," he turned to glower at Sam, who was still on the floor staring up, "you and I are going to have some real fun times together."
Sam refused to look into Lucifer's eyes. He'd long since given up on trying to hold back his tears; when they would only evaporate before they left his eyes, what was the point? But he would hold back the broken-hearted sobs that he'd often been overcome by after such emotional torment in the first few years – the decades had done nothing to make it hurt less, but he was at least able to hold off on giving Lucifer the satisfaction of seeing him break down. He wasn't even sure what the point was when he'd done it a million times before already, but it was all he had to cling onto right now.
Don't react, he'd think to himself. Don't scream.
But Lucifer knew very well how to make him scream. His imagination was vast and limitless, it seemed, when it came to thinking up new tortures. None of the other demons could compare to what he did. In their minds it was an art, and their Father was the master.
"Well," Lucifer sighed. "Not talking to me again? You know, I just love our little chats, Sammy, but you only seem to want to talk when I play with your memory. Is that what you want?"
Sam turned to face Lucifer, spitting in his face – or he tried to anyway. The heat made it impossible to gather enough spit in his mouth to even swallow.
"That wasn't very friendly," Lucifer whispered in his ear. In an instant another leather belt wrapped itself securely over his mouth. Lucifer circled around him, slowly and gently stroking his fingertips over every inch of Sam's skin. It was almost tender, the way he toyed with Sam before the torment. "What shall we play with today then?"
A tray of Lucifer's favourite tools appeared by the side of the table where Sam was strapped. Lucifer regarded it thoughtfully with one arm crossed over his chest and his chin resting on the balled up fist of his other hand. He pursed his lips and glanced at Sam. After another moment he reached out to the tray, wiggling his fingers before deciding. He picked up an object – a simple three pronged fork, no bigger than a regular fork – and he smiled suggestively at Sam.
Sam wanted to hold firm, he wanted to be able to glare into Lucifer's eyes and not show how afraid he was, but this was something he couldn't cope with again. He knew how terrified he looked as Lucifer slowly stepped towards him, but he couldn't stop it. He tried to wriggle away even though he was fully aware that he would never break free of the bonds holding him, and he screamed hoarsely against the leather muzzling him, feeling his scorched throat bleeding with the effort.
Lucifer giggled insanely and dropped the fork back onto the tray, biting down on his own knuckles while he watched Sam's reaction.
"I'm only kidding," he teased, tapping Sam gently on the nose. "I keep that one for special occasions. I just wanted to see you squirm."
He put his arms on either side of Sam head, their faces barely an inch apart. Sam couldn't tear his eyes away from Lucifer's. There were times when he found himself wishing he could die, only to be reminded that he was already dead and that this was the eternity he was facing. There would be no one to save him, no angel sent from God to 'grip him tight and raise him from perdition' as Dean had had. This was it for him.
"There's just so much of you to play with," Lucifer hissed in his ear. He stuck out his forked tongue and licked right up Sam's face, slowly working his way up from under his jawline to his forehead. "Mind and body."
Sam's whole body shook violently under Lucifer's unblinking gaze as he tried – and failed – to avoid looking into the eyes of his grinning tormentor. Eventually Lucifer turned away again, moving back to the platter of his favourite torture toys.
"Where are we on our countdown to forever then?" Lucifer asked, contemplating the choice of tools on the tray in front of him. His tone was pleasant and cheerful as usual, like they were friends discussing the weather or work. "I mark us down as … fifteen thousand, two hundred and forty-four days so far. Doesn't time fly when you're having fun?"
He turned to smile brightly at Sam, who narrowed his eyes but then turned away again. He couldn't keep up the anger for long enough anymore. All he felt when he looked at Lucifer now was fear and pain.
"Oh come on," Lucifer whined. He gripped Sam's face in one hand, making sure to dig his fingers into Sam's cheeks, and forced his head to turn. He pouted mockingly and gave Sam's head a little shake. "Don't be like that, Sammy. If we're going to be spending your everlasting afterlife together we're going to have to learn to communicate."
Sam managed to summon a cold glare to throw in Lucifer's direction.
"Oh right," Lucifer chuckled, pulling a face. "I guess the gag doesn't really help, does it?"
He smiled and quickly snatched up another tool; a cork screw. He raised a questioning eyebrow at Sam – whose eyes widened with panic – and gave an approving nod at his reaction. With a click of his fingers the table underneath Sam vanished, along with the straps around his arms and legs, letting his body drop onto the ground. He barely had more than a second to recover from the fall when thick metal chains appeared from nowhere and snaked around his neck and wrists, dragging him up into the air and leaving his feet dangling off the ground. He'd have thought he wouldn't need to breathe, being dead and all, but he'd quickly found out how very wrong he was. Choking him was one of Lucifer's favourite tortures for Sam, but would never let him suffocate anymore. As with dying any other way in Hell, he'd only come back again almost instantly, and Lucifer had grown bored of that after the first few hours. Better to draw it out slowly and take the time to enjoy every new way he could make little Sammy die.
He watched in amusement while Sam struggled frantically in vain against the chains around his wrists, desperate to claw at the chain cutting off the oxygen to his lungs. When Sam stopped struggling – when he gave in and just let himself hang there with his eyes rolling into the back of his head – Lucifer sighed loudly and waved a hand, making the chain around Sam's neck and the leather muzzle vanish in a wisp of smoke. He coughed and gasped, sucking in the hot dusty air with big gulps.
"Isn't this fun?" Lucifer smiled. "You know, I didn't have fun friends like you last time I was stuck down here. I've got a lot of catching up to do."
"Screw you," Sam rasped.
"Is that the best you've got?" Lucifer asked, disappointment showing all over his face. He frowned and shook his head sadly, right before shoving the corkscrew into Sam side just under his ribs. He made sure to twist it until it was buried right up to the handle. Sam bit his lip so hard he felt his blood pooling in his mouth and dripping down his chin, trying to stop himself from screaming, but he couldn't hold back a loud moaning cry.
"Just let it out," Lucifer said gently, stroking Sam's cheek with his fingers. "You don't need to act strong for me."
Sam spat a mouthful of blood into Lucifer's face. He looked shocked for a moment before he burst out laughing and clapped his hands joyfully.
"Oh Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," he chuckled as he wiped away the blood with his hand, but when he looked back up at Sam his face suddenly hardened in anger. "That was rude."
He gripped the handle of the corkscrew under Sam's ribs and ripped it away from him so fast that Sam didn't even have time to bite his lip to stop himself yelling out with pain. Lucifer dug a finger into the wound and pushed and wiggled it, smiling wickedly while Sam screamed and cried. He pressed his bloodied finger to Sam's lips and shushed him softly until his screaming stopped.
"Do you hear that, Sammy?" He asked quietly.
"Sam! Sam help me!"
"Uh oh," he said. "Is that big brother we hear back in the pit again? He came back Sammy, and he's here to stay this time."
"You're lying," Sam growled. "He wouldn't make another deal."
"Oh am I now?" Lucifer asked, twisting his lips. "Believe it or don't, but that won't change the fact that Dean is up there on the shelves right now having his guts ripped out."
Sam listened to his brother's screaming voice echoing around from up in what the demons called the 'rack' – the crisscrossing chains and fetters high above them where souls were strung up for torture. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't true and told himself that Dean would never have sold his soul, not after the last time. But there was that little nagging voice at the back of his mind whispering, "But what if it was for Bobby or Cas? He would do it for them like he did for you."
"How long do you reckon until he gives in this time?" Lucifer asked with only mild interest. "Will he hold out for thirty years like last time? Maybe longer … fifty?"
"He won't," Sam snarled, tugging on the shackles around his wrists. He knew he couldn't hurt Lucifer even if he did manage to pull himself free, but that wouldn't stop him from trying.
"Yes," he sighed, "he will. And when he does give in he'll start torturing again until his soul is as mutilated and twisted as the next demon. And then do you know what's going to happen?"
He floated up until he was face-to-face with Sam and leaned in to hiss into his ear, "I'm going to let him in here, and then I'm going to watch while your brother, the demon, shows you all the new tricks he's learnt down here. We'll all play together Sammy; you, me, and your big brother having fun together with all our toys. Won't that be nice? Maybe we'll even let your daddy join in."
He grabbed Sam's face again and dropped a quick kiss on his cheek. Sam tried to kick out at him, roaring with rage and frustration.
"Woah," he laughed, backing away. Lucifer lifted the corkscrew again and licked the blood-spattered metal with his forked tongue while new chains appeared from under the ground and hooked themselves under Sam's skin, dragging him down onto his knees.
"You'll become one of them too, Sam," he said, indicating the demons. "Eventually, everyone turns. But not just yet, and not for a long time. I'm not going to let you turn any time soon. Your baby brother over there will turn into one of those twisted freaks before you do, and I'm sure he'll want to join in with the rest of the family.
"Look at him," Lucifer told him, pointing over at Adam, who was never out of sight. He wasn't tortured the same way Sam was – the demons Lucifer had set onto him had barely more imagination than a rabid dog, but they did the job. Adam was torn to pieces while Sam watched unable to do a damn thing about it. As soon as he was as torn and broken as he could possibly get, he was made whole again in the blink of an eye, and the demons gave him no time at all before they were on him again; biting, clawing, scratching, pulling.
Sam felt a sudden sharp, searing pain in his left shoulder and cried out. He looked down to see a long metal rod sticking out under his collar bone, right before Lucifer smiled brightly and yanked it back out again. He looked at the pointed end of the poker and considered it for a moment. When it started to glow red with heat Sam tried to back away, but the hooks and manacles holding him only tightened to keep him in place. Lucifer whistled a tune to himself while he traced the burning metal over Sam's skin, but Sam didn't hear the tune or the crackling of skin under the red-hot poker, or even the cry of Dean's voice still echoing around them. The only sound Sam heard was his own screaming. No matter how much he tried to tell himself not to, he always screamed in the end.
"Aw look," Lucifer said cheerfully, proud of his handiwork. "I wrote it upside down so you can read it."
Sam stared down at his chest where the words 'LUCI AND SAMMY' were branded onto him. He'd even carved in a crooked halo on the 'L' and devil horns on the 'S'. He glared back up at Lucifer, but his tormentor was staring off into the distance now, watching as a flaming ball of smoke and white light hurtled towards them, covered in demons.
"Ugh," he moaned, giving Sam a mock sorry look. "Looks like big brother wants to come play again. When is he going to get it? There's just no point trying to beat me down here."
He turned to leave but glanced back at Sam, "Don't you worry, I'll be right back. I'll make sure you're not left bored while I'm gone."
Sam felt an itch on his legs and looked down to see bugs burrowing out of the ground to climb over him. In seconds his legs were entirely covered with beetles, worms, maggots, flees, spiders, flies and any other insect he could have named, slowly working their way over each other and up his body while the hooks and chains around him tugged and tightened. He wriggled and squirmed but it was pointless even trying with the metal bindings constricting any movement. As the insects crept higher, covering his mouth and nose, he tried to shake free again but his restraints squeezed until they crushed his bones. There was a sickening sound of tearing muscle and flesh, and everything went dark.
Sam opened his eyes to see sunlight pouring in through the motel room window and jumped up to stare wildly around him, slapping himself all over with the memory of the bugs still fresh in his head. When he realised that there were no bugs, no chains, and no Hell he paused to just breathe and stare around him for a moment. The dream had started to slip away already, but it had been so vivid and filled with horror. Sam could have cried his thanks that the nightmare was over.
He heard the shower running and a song he vaguely recognised as an ACDC song blaring in the bathroom with Dean's out of tune voice singing along with it.
"She got me down on the floor, can't touch both walls …"
Sam laughed silently to himself for just a second before he collapsed back on the bed and heaved a long sigh of relief. He was still so tired he felt like he could just curl up there on the cheap motel bed and sleep for a month. He turned onto his side, deciding that he might as well take the time to relax while he could since he was pretty sure Dean would have a job for them once he'd had breakfast. An arm reached around his waist and wrapped around him, and for a second he didn't even realise what was happening. When it hit him he tried to jump from the bed and run but the arm that held him was too strong, pinning him to the bed.
No, this isn't still happening, he thought to himself, squeezing his eyes shut tight. He felt tears filling his eyes but he didn't even try to stop them. What was the point?
"Where do you think you're going?" Lucifer whispered in his ear, nipping at Sam's earlobe playfully with his teeth while Sam wept silently, tears dripping onto the pillow. "I got you, bunk buddy."
A/N: OK so I didn't so much edit out the worst bits as take a pair of metaphorical shears and violently hack off the most disturbing parts which somehow totaled around 1/3 of it. Hopefully it's not that bad now.
And I apologise for it being so roughly written. Every time I tried to edit it properly it just started getting more and more twisted. Also sorry if it doesn't seem to flow very well; like I said, I chopped bits off and didn't do a whole lot of decent editing so some of it may be a bit … jumpy. Yes I'm going to go with jumpy.
I did get a few ideas to take this further with a little less torture and a bit more plot but after the 'editing' I figured I should probably just leave it alone.