Supernatural: Washed His Hands and Sealed His Fate
Title: Washed His Hands and Sealed His Fate
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, Lucifer
Genre: Angst
Rating: PG-13 for Dark Subject Matter
Word Count: 1,704
Author’s Note: More soul crushing self-indulgence. Won’t somebody pay for my therapy? Title from Sympathy for the Devil because, well, duh. ETA 5/7/2013: Thanks to eos_rose, you can now read this in epub format here.
Summary: 5x04 Coda: Sam’s POV during the meeting between Lucifer and future!Dean.
It’s been years since Sam’s last conscious thought came to the surface and died out. He hasn’t even seen anything in months, at least not on any level that registered. So it’s startling to suddenly be so awake. He doesn’t know why, there’s nothing different to see now. Just some man, staring at him with less fear than Sam is used to. Too bad, Sam thinks. He is going to die. If Sam can see him, he’s as good as dead.
But somehow he’s stirring Sam, forcing him to remember who he is. He hates it. This was not part of the deal. Sam is supposed to see nothing, know nothing, being conscious just reminds him-all of the destruction around him, this is his fault. The man knows, too, Sam can see it carved out on his features, can read it in the hatred in his eyes. Sam hasn’t understood a person in so long, but he identifies every emotion that this man tries to hide.
His eyes are green and Sam thinks he likes green eyes. There’s something about him that’s familiar and beautiful and Sam wants him without a body to want with, without even understanding what it is to want.
“Took you an awfully long time to get the nerve to come see me, Dean.” Sam’s mouth shapes the words, but they’re not his.
The man, Dean, says nothing. He’s freezing cold and Sam’s burning up looking at him. He wants the man to see him, to know he’s here. He wants to be acknowledged. Dean raises his arm, levels a gun at Sam’s chest.
No, Dean, Sam thinks. That’s not going to work. Please run. Please.
Maybe Sam can save him. Lucifer has spared others before on Sam’s request-back when Sam could still remember to care. Not many, true, but Sam will try harder this time. He wants Dean to live. He needs Dean to live. He doesn’t know why, but he knows it’s all that matters.
“Be my guest.” Lucifer is smiling in a way Sam doesn’t like. “Put a bullet through Sam’s chest.”
Dean’s hand trembles, but he pulls the trigger. Sam feels a terrible burn as the bullet sinks into him and his skin begins to heal. There’s no pain for the man wearing his flesh. He’s as comfortable as ever. There’s too much of him to contain, but Sam’s body holds him. Sam had forgotten the ache of being stretched out by this strength. He remembers it now, feels it again. He asks why, why isn’t he contentedly lost like he has been, but nobody answers. He shouldn’t bother trying to fight it. This is what Sam was made for. This is all Sam was ever supposed to be. Nobody expected better of him. Sam wishes he’d expected better of himself.
Dean’s entire body sags. Disappointment. It’s like all of his happiness rested on…on killing Sam. There’s no hope left in him, no fight, but still no fear. Sam doesn’t think he cares very much that he’s about to die.
“How’d that feel? Was it everything you dreamed it would be, finally getting back at me for what I did to Sam?”
“I don’t give a shit about Sam,” he replies evenly.
You don’t mean that, Sam tries to yell. You miss me, you have to.
Sam doesn’t know where it comes from, but he believes it with so much of himself that he nearly moves forward like he’s trying so hard to do. For a moment, his face reflects Lucifer’s surprise, but it’s instantly under control and Sam doesn’t get his body to respond to him.
“You’d be surprised if you knew how much you just hurt him.”
“I don’t care. I don’t, I-he hurt m…more people than…I don’t care about Sam.”
“You’re still upset he said ‘yes’? You’d understand if I told you what it was like for him.”
“You’re gonna kill me? Kill me. I don’t wanna listen to you monologue.”
“Oh, I’m going to kill you, Dean. But I’m going to play with you first.”
Sam is furious now and it’s enough to make him remember.
You can’t do that. You promised you wouldn’t hurt him. You promised. It was part of-
I’m sorry, Sam. I kept that promise as long as I could.
“Dean. I want you to tell Sam you forgive him. If you do that, I’ll make this very easy for you.”
Dean scoffs, it’s full of hate and Sam thinks it’s without exception the ugliest thing he’s ever heard.
“Forgive him for being a monster? For ruining the world? I’ll pass.”
“He isn’t a monster. You have no idea what his life was like.”
“Seriously? You are going to try couple’s counseling?”
“I’ll tell you, Dean. Then you can decide for yourself.”
Dean turns to leave, but in a flash, Sam is behind him, blocking his path.
“He woke up every morning and called you. Of course, you know that part, don’t you? You ignored it every day. He never stopped being hurt by that. Do you know what he did next?”
“Demon blood martinis with a couple of his closest girl friends?”
“I would come to him and he would say ‘no’. After a while, he would try to get out of it. He killed himself every morning, Dean. Sometimes he would draw it out just to stop thinking. And I would bring him back.”
Dean is still looking right at him, but Sam thinks he sees something shift. Sam wants to look away from it, from how broken Dean is, but he can’t. His eyes are fixed on Dean and Sam isn’t the one who can move them.
“Those months were terrible for him. He wouldn’t give in, though. He told me ‘no’ over and over and I tried to explain to him. You weren’t his family anymore. I would be. He didn’t listen to that.”
“Shut up.”
But Lucifer’s on a roll now and Sam knows Dean lost his chance to stop this. Sam doesn’t want the apology. He’d rather not have to see Dean standing there, looking into his eyes with disgust. Lucifer cares, though, in a bizarre way, and Sam is stifled by how much anger the angel feels on his behalf, on how set he is on making Dean sorry for him.
“He was strong, so strong. And still good then. You know, he’s never stopped being good, regardless of what you tell yourself. He resisted through a lot of pain. I tortured him terribly, everyday of his life.” Sam feels Lucifer’s guilt making his fingers tremble. “I did awful things to him.”
“No better than he deser-“
“But do you know what, Dean? I don’t think he ever would have cracked without your help. You’re the one I really have to thank for this.”
Dean looks away now. Sam wants to be relieved, but his guilt doesn’t lessen when the accusation isn’t aimed at him.
“If you’d just picked up one of those calls. If you’d listened to one of those messages and realized how much he needed you. It would have ruined everything. I could have used every trick in Hell and he wouldn’t have let me in.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, Dean, I haven’t lied yet. When I kill you, that’ll be my first lie.”
“Bullshit.”
“You helped me more than anyone could have. You ruined him. You made him need you and then you left him to me. You’re more to blame than he is.”
Dean shakes his head, but Sam can see him starting to believe it.
“Dean, look at me.” Dean does. His eyes search Sam’s face as if a part of him actually believes that if he looks in the right place, he’ll find someone other than the Devil. “Do you know what I told him to make him say ‘yes’? Do you know what he asked, bruised, bleeding, body parts torn away-he crawled-he couldn’t walk, you see. His legs were on the other side of the room.”
Dean swallows a gag. “Stop it. Please, please, just do it already.”
“Tell him you’re sorry, Dean.”
“I’m-no. I’m not. I’m not.”
“He crawled to me-groveled-and he looked up with these eyes…I immediately understood why you had such a weakness for him. And he said, ‘Can you make him go away? Can you make me forget about Dean?’ That’s all it took to make him say ‘yes.’”
Dean is about to hurl himself at Lucifer but the angel freezes him in place. He’s powerless, just like Sam has no way to tell Dean how much he regrets it, how sorry he is.
“Sammy,” Dean’s voice breaks on it. It’s soft, gentle, it’s not the same man who has been standing in front of Sam for the last five minutes. It’s…
My brother. Sam suddenly remembers all of it. Everything he’d been so blissfully ignorant of for years. All the pain floods back, and to make it worse, the love does, too.
Now Dean is guilty, no more trying to cloak it with spite. Sam needs to reach out to him. Kiss him. Remind him he’s innocent in this, that he was right about Sam, about everything.
“I’m sorry. Sammy, you…you can’t hear me, can you? But I’m so sorry. Sam. I’m sorry.”
Sam can’t let this happen. He can’t let his body kill Dean. But he can’t stop it, either, and Lucifer doesn’t hesitate.
Dean’s still staring at him with a dead expression, just staring into Sam’s eyes and willing Sam to understand what he’s thinking. Sam does, but he knows Dean won’t know that. There’s no way for him to communicate back. He doesn’t blink or take his gaze off Sam. He falls to the ground and makes an inconsequential noise. It’s over in less than a second.
As his body’s finishing off the worst of all the evil things it’s done, Sam’s eyes look up.
It must be a nightmare, he thinks, because even after years trapped with Lucifer, he can’t believe things this awful can happen. He can’t believe that Dean is standing in front of him. He’s going to have to do it again.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, Lucifer
Genre: Angst
Rating: PG-13 for Dark Subject Matter
Word Count: 1,704
Author’s Note: More soul crushing self-indulgence. Won’t somebody pay for my therapy? Title from Sympathy for the Devil because, well, duh. ETA 5/7/2013: Thanks to eos_rose, you can now read this in epub format here.
Summary: 5x04 Coda: Sam’s POV during the meeting between Lucifer and future!Dean.
It’s been years since Sam’s last conscious thought came to the surface and died out. He hasn’t even seen anything in months, at least not on any level that registered. So it’s startling to suddenly be so awake. He doesn’t know why, there’s nothing different to see now. Just some man, staring at him with less fear than Sam is used to. Too bad, Sam thinks. He is going to die. If Sam can see him, he’s as good as dead.
But somehow he’s stirring Sam, forcing him to remember who he is. He hates it. This was not part of the deal. Sam is supposed to see nothing, know nothing, being conscious just reminds him-all of the destruction around him, this is his fault. The man knows, too, Sam can see it carved out on his features, can read it in the hatred in his eyes. Sam hasn’t understood a person in so long, but he identifies every emotion that this man tries to hide.
His eyes are green and Sam thinks he likes green eyes. There’s something about him that’s familiar and beautiful and Sam wants him without a body to want with, without even understanding what it is to want.
“Took you an awfully long time to get the nerve to come see me, Dean.” Sam’s mouth shapes the words, but they’re not his.
The man, Dean, says nothing. He’s freezing cold and Sam’s burning up looking at him. He wants the man to see him, to know he’s here. He wants to be acknowledged. Dean raises his arm, levels a gun at Sam’s chest.
No, Dean, Sam thinks. That’s not going to work. Please run. Please.
Maybe Sam can save him. Lucifer has spared others before on Sam’s request-back when Sam could still remember to care. Not many, true, but Sam will try harder this time. He wants Dean to live. He needs Dean to live. He doesn’t know why, but he knows it’s all that matters.
“Be my guest.” Lucifer is smiling in a way Sam doesn’t like. “Put a bullet through Sam’s chest.”
Dean’s hand trembles, but he pulls the trigger. Sam feels a terrible burn as the bullet sinks into him and his skin begins to heal. There’s no pain for the man wearing his flesh. He’s as comfortable as ever. There’s too much of him to contain, but Sam’s body holds him. Sam had forgotten the ache of being stretched out by this strength. He remembers it now, feels it again. He asks why, why isn’t he contentedly lost like he has been, but nobody answers. He shouldn’t bother trying to fight it. This is what Sam was made for. This is all Sam was ever supposed to be. Nobody expected better of him. Sam wishes he’d expected better of himself.
Dean’s entire body sags. Disappointment. It’s like all of his happiness rested on…on killing Sam. There’s no hope left in him, no fight, but still no fear. Sam doesn’t think he cares very much that he’s about to die.
“How’d that feel? Was it everything you dreamed it would be, finally getting back at me for what I did to Sam?”
“I don’t give a shit about Sam,” he replies evenly.
You don’t mean that, Sam tries to yell. You miss me, you have to.
Sam doesn’t know where it comes from, but he believes it with so much of himself that he nearly moves forward like he’s trying so hard to do. For a moment, his face reflects Lucifer’s surprise, but it’s instantly under control and Sam doesn’t get his body to respond to him.
“You’d be surprised if you knew how much you just hurt him.”
“I don’t care. I don’t, I-he hurt m…more people than…I don’t care about Sam.”
“You’re still upset he said ‘yes’? You’d understand if I told you what it was like for him.”
“You’re gonna kill me? Kill me. I don’t wanna listen to you monologue.”
“Oh, I’m going to kill you, Dean. But I’m going to play with you first.”
Sam is furious now and it’s enough to make him remember.
You can’t do that. You promised you wouldn’t hurt him. You promised. It was part of-
I’m sorry, Sam. I kept that promise as long as I could.
“Dean. I want you to tell Sam you forgive him. If you do that, I’ll make this very easy for you.”
Dean scoffs, it’s full of hate and Sam thinks it’s without exception the ugliest thing he’s ever heard.
“Forgive him for being a monster? For ruining the world? I’ll pass.”
“He isn’t a monster. You have no idea what his life was like.”
“Seriously? You are going to try couple’s counseling?”
“I’ll tell you, Dean. Then you can decide for yourself.”
Dean turns to leave, but in a flash, Sam is behind him, blocking his path.
“He woke up every morning and called you. Of course, you know that part, don’t you? You ignored it every day. He never stopped being hurt by that. Do you know what he did next?”
“Demon blood martinis with a couple of his closest girl friends?”
“I would come to him and he would say ‘no’. After a while, he would try to get out of it. He killed himself every morning, Dean. Sometimes he would draw it out just to stop thinking. And I would bring him back.”
Dean is still looking right at him, but Sam thinks he sees something shift. Sam wants to look away from it, from how broken Dean is, but he can’t. His eyes are fixed on Dean and Sam isn’t the one who can move them.
“Those months were terrible for him. He wouldn’t give in, though. He told me ‘no’ over and over and I tried to explain to him. You weren’t his family anymore. I would be. He didn’t listen to that.”
“Shut up.”
But Lucifer’s on a roll now and Sam knows Dean lost his chance to stop this. Sam doesn’t want the apology. He’d rather not have to see Dean standing there, looking into his eyes with disgust. Lucifer cares, though, in a bizarre way, and Sam is stifled by how much anger the angel feels on his behalf, on how set he is on making Dean sorry for him.
“He was strong, so strong. And still good then. You know, he’s never stopped being good, regardless of what you tell yourself. He resisted through a lot of pain. I tortured him terribly, everyday of his life.” Sam feels Lucifer’s guilt making his fingers tremble. “I did awful things to him.”
“No better than he deser-“
“But do you know what, Dean? I don’t think he ever would have cracked without your help. You’re the one I really have to thank for this.”
Dean looks away now. Sam wants to be relieved, but his guilt doesn’t lessen when the accusation isn’t aimed at him.
“If you’d just picked up one of those calls. If you’d listened to one of those messages and realized how much he needed you. It would have ruined everything. I could have used every trick in Hell and he wouldn’t have let me in.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, Dean, I haven’t lied yet. When I kill you, that’ll be my first lie.”
“Bullshit.”
“You helped me more than anyone could have. You ruined him. You made him need you and then you left him to me. You’re more to blame than he is.”
Dean shakes his head, but Sam can see him starting to believe it.
“Dean, look at me.” Dean does. His eyes search Sam’s face as if a part of him actually believes that if he looks in the right place, he’ll find someone other than the Devil. “Do you know what I told him to make him say ‘yes’? Do you know what he asked, bruised, bleeding, body parts torn away-he crawled-he couldn’t walk, you see. His legs were on the other side of the room.”
Dean swallows a gag. “Stop it. Please, please, just do it already.”
“Tell him you’re sorry, Dean.”
“I’m-no. I’m not. I’m not.”
“He crawled to me-groveled-and he looked up with these eyes…I immediately understood why you had such a weakness for him. And he said, ‘Can you make him go away? Can you make me forget about Dean?’ That’s all it took to make him say ‘yes.’”
Dean is about to hurl himself at Lucifer but the angel freezes him in place. He’s powerless, just like Sam has no way to tell Dean how much he regrets it, how sorry he is.
“Sammy,” Dean’s voice breaks on it. It’s soft, gentle, it’s not the same man who has been standing in front of Sam for the last five minutes. It’s…
My brother. Sam suddenly remembers all of it. Everything he’d been so blissfully ignorant of for years. All the pain floods back, and to make it worse, the love does, too.
Now Dean is guilty, no more trying to cloak it with spite. Sam needs to reach out to him. Kiss him. Remind him he’s innocent in this, that he was right about Sam, about everything.
“I’m sorry. Sammy, you…you can’t hear me, can you? But I’m so sorry. Sam. I’m sorry.”
Sam can’t let this happen. He can’t let his body kill Dean. But he can’t stop it, either, and Lucifer doesn’t hesitate.
Dean’s still staring at him with a dead expression, just staring into Sam’s eyes and willing Sam to understand what he’s thinking. Sam does, but he knows Dean won’t know that. There’s no way for him to communicate back. He doesn’t blink or take his gaze off Sam. He falls to the ground and makes an inconsequential noise. It’s over in less than a second.
As his body’s finishing off the worst of all the evil things it’s done, Sam’s eyes look up.
It must be a nightmare, he thinks, because even after years trapped with Lucifer, he can’t believe things this awful can happen. He can’t believe that Dean is standing in front of him. He’s going to have to do it again.