Sam Winchester | Lucifer | Endverse (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
endoftheverse) wrote2020-11-08 07:18 pm
endoftheverse) wrote2020-11-08 07:18 pm
Deerington Inbox.
[A general automated voicemail plays.]
[A general automated voicemail plays.]
[Sam seems to freeze at the question, almost like Dean's put a gun to the nape of his neck.
He says, too softly, even for someone like Sam:]
... I remember all of them.
[He won't let me forget.
He's a little afraid of what the implication is, of why Dean's asking. Because the other Sam's told him about the dreams. He knows Jack's dreamt, too. About — him. And it makes him feel a sense of defeat and hopelessness and weakness, to know he can't keep them safe in their sleep.
(Like a failure.)]
He says, too softly, even for someone like Sam:]
... I remember all of them.
[He won't let me forget.
He's a little afraid of what the implication is, of why Dean's asking. Because the other Sam's told him about the dreams. He knows Jack's dreamt, too. About — him. And it makes him feel a sense of defeat and hopelessness and weakness, to know he can't keep them safe in their sleep.
(Like a failure.)]
[ It happens within the span of hours. Perhaps Sam is outside - or perhaps he's in his room and emerges, eventually, after a long time. Either way, nothing seems amiss... at first. Until he steps into the living room.
It looks like someone bought a sack of christmas decorations and upended them all over the place, with little understanding of where things should go. There's even a small, scrappy looking christmas tree, lopsided and sad and not at all a glorious christmas tree sight to behold, yet lovingly drowned in baubles and tinsel, with a star precariously wobbling on its tip. There's a stack of board games, unearthed at some second hand store or another. A crate of various christmas flavoured beers, with a glittering bow on top. Two bottles of eggnog - no labels. Homemade, perhaps. The fireplace is crackling. There's a beat up looking record player, and a box of vinyls, both with a gift tag that reads 'Dean'. Next to it sits a stack of leather bound books with a gift tag reading 'Sam'. Judging by the overflowing trash can, an attempt at wrapping both was made and given up on.
Later, he will find sitting on top of his pillow single, black feather, smooth and silky, and too large to have come from Charis, even though it has the same very subtle iridescence. Touching it feels strange, a little. Like the slight tingling in the air when a storm is gathering in the skies. And a note, that just reads:
'You're worthy.' ]
It looks like someone bought a sack of christmas decorations and upended them all over the place, with little understanding of where things should go. There's even a small, scrappy looking christmas tree, lopsided and sad and not at all a glorious christmas tree sight to behold, yet lovingly drowned in baubles and tinsel, with a star precariously wobbling on its tip. There's a stack of board games, unearthed at some second hand store or another. A crate of various christmas flavoured beers, with a glittering bow on top. Two bottles of eggnog - no labels. Homemade, perhaps. The fireplace is crackling. There's a beat up looking record player, and a box of vinyls, both with a gift tag that reads 'Dean'. Next to it sits a stack of leather bound books with a gift tag reading 'Sam'. Judging by the overflowing trash can, an attempt at wrapping both was made and given up on.
Later, he will find sitting on top of his pillow single, black feather, smooth and silky, and too large to have come from Charis, even though it has the same very subtle iridescence. Touching it feels strange, a little. Like the slight tingling in the air when a storm is gathering in the skies. And a note, that just reads:
'You're worthy.' ]
[ There's a small box outside of Sam's house, with a note attached. It says 'For Sam from El' in struggling handwriting.
The box contains a green friendship bracelet and a note, penned in the same poor handwriting that looks like Eleven's struggling a lot more than someone her age should: ]
I'm not good at making friends, but I'm good at finding them. The bracelet means we're friends, it's a rule.
The box contains a green friendship bracelet and a note, penned in the same poor handwriting that looks like Eleven's struggling a lot more than someone her age should: ]
I'm not good at making friends, but I'm good at finding them. The bracelet means we're friends, it's a rule.
[Dean lets his eyes fall shut; his stomach tightens and then feels as though it falls through him, a boulder racing to the ground. Sam's voice is soft, and it only makes his answer that much more painful to hear and process. Fuck, he thinks.]
The Devil really is that much of an asshole. God.
[He opens his eyes again, rubs a hand over the bottom half of his face.]
Are you...are you aware when old Luci goes and visits other people in their sleep?
The Devil really is that much of an asshole. God.
[He opens his eyes again, rubs a hand over the bottom half of his face.]
Are you...are you aware when old Luci goes and visits other people in their sleep?
... He's not very good company.
[The defeat in his voice is palpable. But he's at least gotten used to having to listen to Lucifer talk — what to ignore... or try to ignore. As it turns out, maybe he hasn't done that nearly well enough, because he had been certain his Dean hated him. Lo and behold, he still loved him. Weird, right?
He gnaws at his lip, and it aches under the treatment.]
... Sam told me. I know he's been able to visit others when — when I'm asleep. [He huffs a laugh, and it's really not that humored.] Been trying to pull a few all-nighters to keep him down. Like bad heart burn, or acid reflux, or something...
[His expression falls, he looks down.]
... He visited you, too?
[The defeat in his voice is palpable. But he's at least gotten used to having to listen to Lucifer talk — what to ignore... or try to ignore. As it turns out, maybe he hasn't done that nearly well enough, because he had been certain his Dean hated him. Lo and behold, he still loved him. Weird, right?
He gnaws at his lip, and it aches under the treatment.]
... Sam told me. I know he's been able to visit others when — when I'm asleep. [He huffs a laugh, and it's really not that humored.] Been trying to pull a few all-nighters to keep him down. Like bad heart burn, or acid reflux, or something...
[His expression falls, he looks down.]
... He visited you, too?
[The fact that Sam shares a body with Lucifer isn't lost on Dean; that fact gnaws at him internally, clawing at his thoughts and various underlying forms of insecurity and self-loathing he's thought he's gotten better at keeping shoved down way deep inside. Only took one conversation with the Devil to upend that whole notion, though.
He wishes he could do something for Sam; he knows what Lucifer does through him isn't his fault. He hates that he seemingly can't do anything about it; that guilt seeps through as he listens to Sam explain trying to stay up all night trying to keep Lucifer at bay.]
Yeah, uh. He shared some fun filled trivia, we braided each other's hair. You know how it goes. Regular old slumber parties with Satan.
[You started it, the truth of it echoes throughout his head, a headache he can't tame with aspirin. You started all of it; it's all your fault.]
He wishes he could do something for Sam; he knows what Lucifer does through him isn't his fault. He hates that he seemingly can't do anything about it; that guilt seeps through as he listens to Sam explain trying to stay up all night trying to keep Lucifer at bay.]
Yeah, uh. He shared some fun filled trivia, we braided each other's hair. You know how it goes. Regular old slumber parties with Satan.
[You started it, the truth of it echoes throughout his head, a headache he can't tame with aspirin. You started all of it; it's all your fault.]
[Shame both pales and pinkens his face, his own guilt hitting his visage like a wince. He doesn't predict at all that Dean's thoughts are positive in any way towards Sam himself; in fact, he assumes the worst of it.
He closes his eyes at the descriptions, though, swaying dizzily.]
I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry for — everything. [There's a defeat in his words, a sagging of his shoulders.] This is all my fault. I'll... I'll try to figure out something. There's got to be a way to keep him from getting into dreams.
[He doesn't want to ask... but he has no right to evade it.]
... What 'trivia' was it?
He closes his eyes at the descriptions, though, swaying dizzily.]
I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry for — everything. [There's a defeat in his words, a sagging of his shoulders.] This is all my fault. I'll... I'll try to figure out something. There's got to be a way to keep him from getting into dreams.
[He doesn't want to ask... but he has no right to evade it.]
... What 'trivia' was it?
[Dean sees Sam close his eyes and starting to sway; instinctively, his older brother intuition guides him to move closer, to reach out and make sure that Sam is physically okay. He reaches out for his shoulder, squeezing.]
Hey, man. You're not him, alright? Just because he's wearing your face doesn't mean any of this is on you. I always figured the Devil was an especially ripe old asshole, if he existed.
[At the mention of finding a way to keep Satan from getting into dreams, Dean nods.] Yeah, we'll find a way. Gotta be a way to limit him, right?
[At his next question, Dean winces. Lets out a low, long breath. He feels bad for making Sam feel bad, and he's probably about to make it worse. He shuts his eyes for a moment, as if it's easier to admit to this without staring directly at Sam.] He told me I broke the first seal and kickstarted the entire apocalypse.
Hey, man. You're not him, alright? Just because he's wearing your face doesn't mean any of this is on you. I always figured the Devil was an especially ripe old asshole, if he existed.
[At the mention of finding a way to keep Satan from getting into dreams, Dean nods.] Yeah, we'll find a way. Gotta be a way to limit him, right?
[At his next question, Dean winces. Lets out a low, long breath. He feels bad for making Sam feel bad, and he's probably about to make it worse. He shuts his eyes for a moment, as if it's easier to admit to this without staring directly at Sam.] He told me I broke the first seal and kickstarted the entire apocalypse.
[There's the faintest flinch, a twitch of split-second uncertainty, before he allows Dean's hand to settle on a shoulder that melts some of tension. He looks over at Dean at the answer and his expression hardens.]
That wasn't your fault. You were being tortured, Dean.
If anyone needs the blame for the apocalypse, you're looking at him.
[He looks to the lake, gnawing again on his lip. The blood he tastes isn't so sickly sweet as Ruby's, doesn't quench any thirst. He isn't sure how to tell Dean what a freak he turned into; that Dad was right about him, that they were all right about him. Kubrick, Gordon, the angels, the demons...]
... You just wanted the pain to stop; you'd have never have blamed someone else in your shoes. Bobby didn't, and I didn't. None of us did.
That wasn't your fault. You were being tortured, Dean.
If anyone needs the blame for the apocalypse, you're looking at him.
[He looks to the lake, gnawing again on his lip. The blood he tastes isn't so sickly sweet as Ruby's, doesn't quench any thirst. He isn't sure how to tell Dean what a freak he turned into; that Dad was right about him, that they were all right about him. Kubrick, Gordon, the angels, the demons...]
... You just wanted the pain to stop; you'd have never have blamed someone else in your shoes. Bobby didn't, and I didn't. None of us did.
Edited (lil edits because im picky) 2021-01-05 01:50 (UTC)
[Dean lets out a wry huff of laughter. Their dad held out against that same offer for a hundred years; he broke in thirty. And, goddamn, he can still hear that in Alistair's voice, too, that same snake of a tone slithering down his spine. He represses a shudder by turning it into a shrug.]
Wouldn't have been any apocalypse to start if I hadn't kickstarted it down under.
[Dean gazes up at the sky, down at the ground, and then follows out towards the lake, unease and a whole variety of other emotions churning in his gut. Another mistake, another fault he'll learn to live with; having to learn about it from the Devil is a hell of a way to learn about it, but Dean will learn. And, worse comes to worse, he'll shove it down with the rest of his pile of unspoken crap he never lets see the light of day.
He inhales raggedly and exhales slowly, trying to steady himself and his breathing.]
You didn't see me down there, Sam. You didn't...
[He lets his eyes fall shut momentarily; when he opens them again, he tries to keep his gaze focused off in the distance. He takes another shuddering breath.]
I didn't just kickstart the end of the world. I got off on it, the torture. I ripped into people's souls, and I didn't want to stop. I would have...
[He rubs a hand over the bottom half of his face.]
I don't know what would have happened if Cas hadn't pulled me out. Probably, I would have turned into a demon.
Wouldn't have been any apocalypse to start if I hadn't kickstarted it down under.
[Dean gazes up at the sky, down at the ground, and then follows out towards the lake, unease and a whole variety of other emotions churning in his gut. Another mistake, another fault he'll learn to live with; having to learn about it from the Devil is a hell of a way to learn about it, but Dean will learn. And, worse comes to worse, he'll shove it down with the rest of his pile of unspoken crap he never lets see the light of day.
He inhales raggedly and exhales slowly, trying to steady himself and his breathing.]
You didn't see me down there, Sam. You didn't...
[He lets his eyes fall shut momentarily; when he opens them again, he tries to keep his gaze focused off in the distance. He takes another shuddering breath.]
I didn't just kickstart the end of the world. I got off on it, the torture. I ripped into people's souls, and I didn't want to stop. I would have...
[He rubs a hand over the bottom half of his face.]
I don't know what would have happened if Cas hadn't pulled me out. Probably, I would have turned into a demon.
You adapted.
[Sam says it quietly, folding his arms — against the cold, but also to just... comfort himself, maybe. He doesn't look at Dean with disgust, though. He doesn't judge him for it, not for anything. If anyone had anything to apologize for, it'd be him. He trusted Ruby with his life. He drank the blood. He let Lucifer out.
None of that is on Dean.]
You were pulled out of Hell. You aren't a demon. You came out of it, and you tried to keep moving forward. [Sam looks at him, even if Dean can't bring himself to look anywhere but that lake.] They tried to make you into something else. But I'm not exactly looking at a demon here. You're just my brother, and you tried to keep me alive and safe. And I'm sorry I fucked that up so much.
[He shakes his head, his bangs falling in his face as he sits back. His arm jitters like it has a mind of its own — from Lucifer? from a withdrawal that never seems to end? — and he clamps a hand down to steady it. The silence trickles in for a moment, and he says what he feels, because not doing it before ruined everything.]
... I spent years wishing you hadn't brought me back. Wishing I could change it. I'd do anything to make it right. Fix everything I did. Fix what I did to you, to Cas... to the world.
Try to fix the fact that I ended up the villain in our screwed-up story, after everything you did.
[Sam says it quietly, folding his arms — against the cold, but also to just... comfort himself, maybe. He doesn't look at Dean with disgust, though. He doesn't judge him for it, not for anything. If anyone had anything to apologize for, it'd be him. He trusted Ruby with his life. He drank the blood. He let Lucifer out.
None of that is on Dean.]
You were pulled out of Hell. You aren't a demon. You came out of it, and you tried to keep moving forward. [Sam looks at him, even if Dean can't bring himself to look anywhere but that lake.] They tried to make you into something else. But I'm not exactly looking at a demon here. You're just my brother, and you tried to keep me alive and safe. And I'm sorry I fucked that up so much.
[He shakes his head, his bangs falling in his face as he sits back. His arm jitters like it has a mind of its own — from Lucifer? from a withdrawal that never seems to end? — and he clamps a hand down to steady it. The silence trickles in for a moment, and he says what he feels, because not doing it before ruined everything.]
... I spent years wishing you hadn't brought me back. Wishing I could change it. I'd do anything to make it right. Fix everything I did. Fix what I did to you, to Cas... to the world.
Try to fix the fact that I ended up the villain in our screwed-up story, after everything you did.
Adapted. That's a nice way of putting 'getting with the program and then going overboard.' [He shakes his head, inhaling long and hard before exhaling, as if breathing exercises could fully expel all the mounds of guilt and regret he carries around with him like all the dirt and blood that's ever collected under his fingernails over the years.
He turns sharply when Sam mentions fucking up that much, eyes wide as he considers him. He feels a distinct tug inside, the burst of warmth and guilt he always feels just for Sam.
And he realizes, as Sam speaks, that he must have done something to drive his little brother into the arms of the Devil. He must have messed up somewhere along the way to screw things up even more for his brother.] You're not the villain, Sam. He is. I don't know what happened to get you to say yes to the Devil, but if anyone fucked up here, it's me. I'm the one supposed to look out for you, Sam. You're my baby brother, and it's me that should have protected you from...well. Everything. All of it.
[He lets out a slow, shuddering breath; his eyes fall briefly closed.]
But especially that asshole riding around in your body.
He turns sharply when Sam mentions fucking up that much, eyes wide as he considers him. He feels a distinct tug inside, the burst of warmth and guilt he always feels just for Sam.
And he realizes, as Sam speaks, that he must have done something to drive his little brother into the arms of the Devil. He must have messed up somewhere along the way to screw things up even more for his brother.] You're not the villain, Sam. He is. I don't know what happened to get you to say yes to the Devil, but if anyone fucked up here, it's me. I'm the one supposed to look out for you, Sam. You're my baby brother, and it's me that should have protected you from...well. Everything. All of it.
[He lets out a slow, shuddering breath; his eyes fall briefly closed.]
But especially that asshole riding around in your body.
[Sam shakes his head.]
Yeah, well... I have some experience with getting with the program and going overboard.
[Dean would be disgusted, he's pretty sure. Dean was disgusted. The way he'd look at him, learning each sad secret... learning about the exorcisms, about Ruby and him, the blood... He felt it, back then. That he looked like something else in Dean's eyes. That he was... (he was a monster, and he knew it, but goddammit, he didn't expect Dean to come back and see it with his own eyes-)
Sam juts his jaw, defiant.]
Stop, Dean. Don't — You don't have to try to take the blame for shit I did myself. It wasn't your job, and it wasn't anything you did. It doesn't matter why I said yes; all that matters is I'm the reason Lucifer won. You should be pissed at me for it, and if you're not gonna be, then I'll just have to do it for you.
[Because as much as Dean hates himself, Sam hates himself, too. He has plenty of it to direct inward, no shortage of words to fling at himself. He knows which words hurt the most, too. He's become a prodigy, knowing just how to make Sam Winchester feel like dirt on someone's shoe.]
... I didn't exactly do anything to deserve you watching my back. The Dean in my timeline, he wasn't wrong for ditching me. Hell, I recommended it. I wasn't... reliable.
[He runs a hand through his bangs, leaves it planted there, face downcast in shame.]
... I was drinking demon blood, to exorcise demons from their hosts. While you've been in Hell. That's what I was doing. Some... extension of those powers I'd had with Yellow Eyes around. I was with Ruby, and when I wasn't with her, I was — alone.
And then you came back, and I didn't think you'd ever be alive to see me like that.
But it was too late. I couldn't... I was what I was.
Yeah, well... I have some experience with getting with the program and going overboard.
[Dean would be disgusted, he's pretty sure. Dean was disgusted. The way he'd look at him, learning each sad secret... learning about the exorcisms, about Ruby and him, the blood... He felt it, back then. That he looked like something else in Dean's eyes. That he was... (he was a monster, and he knew it, but goddammit, he didn't expect Dean to come back and see it with his own eyes-)
Sam juts his jaw, defiant.]
Stop, Dean. Don't — You don't have to try to take the blame for shit I did myself. It wasn't your job, and it wasn't anything you did. It doesn't matter why I said yes; all that matters is I'm the reason Lucifer won. You should be pissed at me for it, and if you're not gonna be, then I'll just have to do it for you.
[Because as much as Dean hates himself, Sam hates himself, too. He has plenty of it to direct inward, no shortage of words to fling at himself. He knows which words hurt the most, too. He's become a prodigy, knowing just how to make Sam Winchester feel like dirt on someone's shoe.]
... I didn't exactly do anything to deserve you watching my back. The Dean in my timeline, he wasn't wrong for ditching me. Hell, I recommended it. I wasn't... reliable.
[He runs a hand through his bangs, leaves it planted there, face downcast in shame.]
... I was drinking demon blood, to exorcise demons from their hosts. While you've been in Hell. That's what I was doing. Some... extension of those powers I'd had with Yellow Eyes around. I was with Ruby, and when I wasn't with her, I was — alone.
And then you came back, and I didn't think you'd ever be alive to see me like that.
But it was too late. I couldn't... I was what I was.
Edited (grammar, my nemesis) 2021-01-12 12:51 (UTC)
[Dean wonders if, somewhere, somehow, there's a universe where they actually get to live outside of hunting and saving people and dying and almost dying for each other over and over again; he wonders if that Sam and that Dean get to define themselves outside of their family tragedies, if they even have any family tragedies to work through. He hopes so; he hopes that there's a happy ending for the two of them out there somewhere, no matter how unlikely that reality is.
He lets out a long, low breath, rubbing his hand over the bottom half of his face.] Sam, how can I be pissed at you when I don't even know how the Devil got you to let him in the first place? Am I angry and hurt? Yeah, you know what, I am. And maybe if you explain, I'll get angry at you too.
[And maybe the Dean from this Sam's timeline is right to have left him, but Dean feels an odd clench in his stomach at the thought, no matter what it is that Sam's done. After everything, Dean can't imagine walking out on Sam; that's what their dad did, and fuck if he doesn't want to be following in John's damned footsteps anymore than he already has.
And then Sam explains that he's been drinking demon blood and using his powers, with Ruby, of all demons, and Dean feels all of his stomach drop through to his feet; his eyes widen and he feels as though part of himself as left his own body.]
I'm sorry, you what?
[He's trying to process this information; his thoughts and emotions feel like crossed livewires, sparking dangerously within him. He feels as though he might puke or scream; maybe both.]
He lets out a long, low breath, rubbing his hand over the bottom half of his face.] Sam, how can I be pissed at you when I don't even know how the Devil got you to let him in the first place? Am I angry and hurt? Yeah, you know what, I am. And maybe if you explain, I'll get angry at you too.
[And maybe the Dean from this Sam's timeline is right to have left him, but Dean feels an odd clench in his stomach at the thought, no matter what it is that Sam's done. After everything, Dean can't imagine walking out on Sam; that's what their dad did, and fuck if he doesn't want to be following in John's damned footsteps anymore than he already has.
And then Sam explains that he's been drinking demon blood and using his powers, with Ruby, of all demons, and Dean feels all of his stomach drop through to his feet; his eyes widen and he feels as though part of himself as left his own body.]
I'm sorry, you what?
[He's trying to process this information; his thoughts and emotions feel like crossed livewires, sparking dangerously within him. He feels as though he might puke or scream; maybe both.]
[There it is. The disgust and anger and disappointment, ready to be served on a platter. It's the reason he'd hidden all of it in the first place, when Dean resurrected — he knew. And he knew Dean would feel it all over again here. Maybe there'd be punches involved again. Maybe there's not.
Sam turns away, doesn't look at Dean.
("You're destroying your relationship with him all over again?" Lucifer asks patiently, "Bold move, Sam. Now he'll just see a monster. Again. That's all he'll ever see with you, no matter what he says to the contrary.")
Sam utters angrily:]
Doesn't matter. I deserve it.
[But his fingers are shaking, and he digs them into his jeans to do something about it.]
I thought Ruby cared about me. She saved my life, gave me something to do when you were gone. And then you came back. [His head whips, and his desperate gaze lands on Dean finally.] After everything I tried to get you out — after demons wouldn't even cut deals with me, how was I supposed to know you'd come back to see that? To see me?
[He buries his head in his knees, palms pressing the back of his shaggy locks.
("Sam, be reasonable. There wasn't anything wrong with you.
You are p-e-r-f-e-c-t.")]
Dad was right. He was right about me. He knew what I was. Before anyone.
He just made the mistake of not handling it soon enough.
Sam turns away, doesn't look at Dean.
("You're destroying your relationship with him all over again?" Lucifer asks patiently, "Bold move, Sam. Now he'll just see a monster. Again. That's all he'll ever see with you, no matter what he says to the contrary.")
Sam utters angrily:]
Doesn't matter. I deserve it.
[But his fingers are shaking, and he digs them into his jeans to do something about it.]
I thought Ruby cared about me. She saved my life, gave me something to do when you were gone. And then you came back. [His head whips, and his desperate gaze lands on Dean finally.] After everything I tried to get you out — after demons wouldn't even cut deals with me, how was I supposed to know you'd come back to see that? To see me?
[He buries his head in his knees, palms pressing the back of his shaggy locks.
("Sam, be reasonable. There wasn't anything wrong with you.
You are p-e-r-f-e-c-t.")]
Dad was right. He was right about me. He knew what I was. Before anyone.
He just made the mistake of not handling it soon enough.
[he shouldn't be sending this message. even though the other dean is gone, they'd come to an agreement over burgers that he know he has to stick to. and part of that meant keeping his distance from sam. but with his conversation with castiel underway, the one thing he wants right now is the one thing he can't have. not with his own sam having left deerington.
which is why the agreement goes out the window. why he ends up typing out a panicked message in the search for some kind of advice. this might not be the man who found him, but it's still sam. and that's all that matters.]
Castiel's forgotten everything and I don't know what to do.
which is why the agreement goes out the window. why he ends up typing out a panicked message in the search for some kind of advice. this might not be the man who found him, but it's still sam. and that's all that matters.]
Castiel's forgotten everything and I don't know what to do.
[ After two weeks spent in a coma-like sleep inside the bunker, Castiel finally wakes up with no memory of his previous stay. The last thing he remembers, he was driving down a dark road with Dean leaving the Apocalypse behind. Sam was gone and Dean had miles to go before it sank in.
Ever the soldier, he pushes past the uncertainty and gets to work figuring out where he is and why his grace is acting up. He manages to get an inkling of what's happening in the town when he finally looks at his device. The first thing he comes across is a slew of messages from a Nephilim claiming to be his son. He speaks with Jack, and shortly after, he goes to find the brothers Jack claimed to live with.
Wasting no time, Castiel searches for the brothers Jack claimed were here. It takes time, but he manages to search every nook and crevice of the town before he comes across Sam. He's almost surprised, worried. If Sam was here, then where was Lucifer? Did he escape the cage?
The sound of dozens of voices whispering in an ancient tongue heralds his arrival, they crescendo to a higher octave rising higher and higher in volume. Moments before the sound becomes painful to hear, the wind picks up and the sound vanishes without a trace. In its place stands Castiel a few paces away staring at Sam (?) from across the room. ]
We need to talk.
Ever the soldier, he pushes past the uncertainty and gets to work figuring out where he is and why his grace is acting up. He manages to get an inkling of what's happening in the town when he finally looks at his device. The first thing he comes across is a slew of messages from a Nephilim claiming to be his son. He speaks with Jack, and shortly after, he goes to find the brothers Jack claimed to live with.
Wasting no time, Castiel searches for the brothers Jack claimed were here. It takes time, but he manages to search every nook and crevice of the town before he comes across Sam. He's almost surprised, worried. If Sam was here, then where was Lucifer? Did he escape the cage?
The sound of dozens of voices whispering in an ancient tongue heralds his arrival, they crescendo to a higher octave rising higher and higher in volume. Moments before the sound becomes painful to hear, the wind picks up and the sound vanishes without a trace. In its place stands Castiel a few paces away staring at Sam (?) from across the room. ]
We need to talk.
[Sam is... not okay. He hasn't been okay for a while.
Because while Jack is suffering over the loss of Sam, Sam is suffering over the loss of Dean. The walls of this house, they ring with the silence. It bounces off the walls and leave Cas and him numb, fingers tingling and heads swimming from the loss. Sam doesn't answer most messages. He just blanks on time; one moment it's one in the morning, the next it's nine at night.
But he manages to reply to this one. At least this one.]
Jack? What do you mean?
What happened?
Because while Jack is suffering over the loss of Sam, Sam is suffering over the loss of Dean. The walls of this house, they ring with the silence. It bounces off the walls and leave Cas and him numb, fingers tingling and heads swimming from the loss. Sam doesn't answer most messages. He just blanks on time; one moment it's one in the morning, the next it's nine at night.
But he manages to reply to this one. At least this one.]
Jack? What do you mean?
What happened?
[if it wasn't for what's happening with castiel, he'd be asking about dean. asking to see how sam was doing. but it's a little hard to focus beyond the here and now. beyond the fact that he's just come out of a conversation with a complete stranger wearing his father's face.]
He doesn't remember me. Or Deerington. Or anything that happened here.
I can't lose him too.
He doesn't remember me. Or Deerington. Or anything that happened here.
I can't lose him too.
[Jack had given Sam a heads up about Castiel's current predicament, but that doesn't exactly prepare him for Castiel's habit of appearing out of seemingly nowhere. Sam has... kept to his room. It's dimmed, and it's not particularly full of things the same way anyone else's rooms are. He's on his bed, looking out his window distantly, and his whole body jolts to life when Castiel eclipses the light from the outside.
He stands up, barefoot, still in his sleepwear. Looks nervously at Castiel.
(It's fine, it's just Cas; he trusts Cas.)
Swallowing hard, he nods.]
... I heard you've lost memories. From Jack.
Are you okay?
He stands up, barefoot, still in his sleepwear. Looks nervously at Castiel.
(It's fine, it's just Cas; he trusts Cas.)
Swallowing hard, he nods.]
... I heard you've lost memories. From Jack.
Are you okay?
Stay calm, Jack.
Even if he can't remember, you still have him. He'll be there for you.
You just need to catch him up on things again.
I know it's hard, but you can do it.
Just... think of it as Cas needing you right now.
Cas needing someone who he can rely on to fill him in.
It'll give you something to focus on, when it feels like a lot.
Castiel's one of the good ones, right?
Not even losing memories will change that.
Even if he can't remember, you still have him. He'll be there for you.
You just need to catch him up on things again.
I know it's hard, but you can do it.
Just... think of it as Cas needing you right now.
Cas needing someone who he can rely on to fill him in.
It'll give you something to focus on, when it feels like a lot.
Castiel's one of the good ones, right?
Not even losing memories will change that.
[ There's a moment, between his arrival and the truth that Castiel feels a surge of comfort in seeing Sam. The last time they spoke, he lied to him - at his behest. But, he did end up keeping his promise, taking care of Dean and Bobby, healing them, after their bout with Lucifer. He remembers the sacrifice he made. The thread of hope Sam damned himself to give them. The feeling of utter hopelessness when Lucifer took that away. He died believing Sam had lost. It was only after he was resurrected that he realized the truth. Sam kept fighting. He never stopped despite everyone giving up on him, and in the end, when all hope was lost, he won against one of the strongest beings in creation sacrificing himself for the good of all.
Deep-seated respect swells inside him at the sight of Sam and his mouth pulls up to form a smile. But, it stops halfway through, his grace showing him the truth before it ever has the chance to form.]
You're not... Sam.
[ He says, looking past his vessel. ]
Not the Sam who jumped into the cage.
[ He stares, turmoil churning inside him at the revelation. He hasn't spotted Lucifer, his powers too warped to see him when he isn't in control, but there's no mistaking it. He knows Sam. And this isn't the one he left behind. ]
Deep-seated respect swells inside him at the sight of Sam and his mouth pulls up to form a smile. But, it stops halfway through, his grace showing him the truth before it ever has the chance to form.]
You're not... Sam.
[ He says, looking past his vessel. ]
Not the Sam who jumped into the cage.
[ He stares, turmoil churning inside him at the revelation. He hasn't spotted Lucifer, his powers too warped to see him when he isn't in control, but there's no mistaking it. He knows Sam. And this isn't the one he left behind. ]
Edited 2021-01-18 22:31 (UTC)
[There's some hybrid of panic and hurt that flits across his face, when Castiel says he's not Sam; he almost expects Cas to put his hand out, throw him back, try to kill 'Lucifer'. But he doesn't. He continues, and Sam's panic melts into just hurt.
... Right. He looks down, rubbing his arm nervously.]
Yeah. Yeah, you're right. That's not me. Uh.
I'm from a different timeline. You don't remember me coming here?
... Right. He looks down, rubbing his arm nervously.]
Yeah. Yeah, you're right. That's not me. Uh.
I'm from a different timeline. You don't remember me coming here?
[ Motionless, he stays in place, as if still deciding what to do about this newfound information. He keeps looking at Sam, seeing past him, and comes back to himself frowning not quite sure what to make of all of it. First, there was Jack, now an alternate version of Sam. What was next? ]
.... Nooo.
[ He lengthens the word, shoulders turning to fully face him. He doesn't question his explanation, as a temporal being, it's not as farfetched to him. The question is, why was he here? And - ]
What's different about your timeline?
.... Nooo.
[ He lengthens the word, shoulders turning to fully face him. He doesn't question his explanation, as a temporal being, it's not as farfetched to him. The question is, why was he here? And - ]
What's different about your timeline?
Edited 2021-01-19 01:36 (UTC)
[Sam's heartbeat quickens, and for a moment he's not sure what to say, what to do. He doesn't have Dean here to help him explain, and Cas is — Cas is out, and Cas would know how to explain it to himself, right? But it's just him, him and all of his gross sins, all of his mistakes and all the lives lost that weigh down on him. He's ashamed, honestly. Dean's left this place to go die by Lucifer's (Sam's) hand. Cas could do the same, any time, any day.
Sam slowly sinks to sit on his bed, still made like he hasn't slept in it at all in the past 24 hours. He hasn't.]
I said yes.
[You sure did, Lucifer says. Sam's fingers clutch at his knees until the skin pales. Lucifer's grace throbs suddenly, clear enough to Castiel and likely Castiel alone — like an explosion underneath water, illuminating Sam's ribs for a moment with cold, pale blue energy. Sam pushes Lucifer down, bowing until his bangs sweep and hide his shamed gaze.
Maybe this is a good thing, though. Maybe Castiel will smite him or something. Purge the town of him for a time... Maybe this is how he gets around promising Dean he'd keep trying. He could just... let Castiel handle him and Lucifer both. Sure, he'd failed getting rid of Sam Winchester plenty of times-
But he's not an angel, now is he?]
He won.
Sam slowly sinks to sit on his bed, still made like he hasn't slept in it at all in the past 24 hours. He hasn't.]
I said yes.
[You sure did, Lucifer says. Sam's fingers clutch at his knees until the skin pales. Lucifer's grace throbs suddenly, clear enough to Castiel and likely Castiel alone — like an explosion underneath water, illuminating Sam's ribs for a moment with cold, pale blue energy. Sam pushes Lucifer down, bowing until his bangs sweep and hide his shamed gaze.
Maybe this is a good thing, though. Maybe Castiel will smite him or something. Purge the town of him for a time... Maybe this is how he gets around promising Dean he'd keep trying. He could just... let Castiel handle him and Lucifer both. Sure, he'd failed getting rid of Sam Winchester plenty of times-
But he's not an angel, now is he?]
He won.
Edited 2021-01-19 02:04 (UTC)
Page 6 of 14