“Shut up.” Words spat from his mouth without his permission as his head snaps toward Lucifer’s lounging form, and dammit he’s already slipping back into this.
“Ahh there we go. Finally a little interaction. That’s good, Sam.” Approving smile as he props himself against the headboard.
“Your inability to live without your brother is what’s caused you so much pain in the first place, Sam.” And that‘s rich coming from one of the duelling brothers of the apocalypse. “You should go back to hunting the Leviathan, try and do some good as a soldier before your time is up.”
“I’m getting him out.” Words hissed through gritted teeth and fuck it they aren’t going anywhere, no one else is coming. Maybe he can get Cas to suck the crazy from his head when he breaks them out of Purgatory.
Michael just lets out a disappointed sigh; same as his dad’s when he couldn’t do some complex form of training as a kid; same as Michael’s in the Cage when he’d started screaming too soon. “No Sam, you aren’t. There’s no way to do it, now. Anyone who might have helped you is either dead, working against you, or locked away and out of reach. You need to accept this.”
He vaguely wonders what fucked up part of his brain Michael is supposed to represent, isn‘t sure he wants to know. It’s a long list, anyway.
“Just enjoy the freedom Sammy. Go out, kill some monsters, screw somebody, have some fun.” He doesn’t want to go near Lucifer’s idea of fun.
“He won’t listen.” Michael replies to Lucifer while still staring at Sam. “He’ll never accept a life without Dean in it, and he won’t accept that a life with Dean isn’t what he needs.”
“You don’t talk about him. You don’t know him. You aren’t even real.” He’s aware talking in full sentences to his psychotic imaginings is the beginning of a very steep and slippery slope, but he’s so completely out of options here, and keeping all the words bottled in his head is just making him even more jittery.
“I’m in your mind Sam, I know Dean as well as you do.” Reminder making him clench his fists so tight he feels his nails break the skin, small trickle of blood running out from between his fingers.
“I don’t care. I’ll find a way. I’ll summon Crowley, trap him. I’ll bind Death again if I have to.” It’s a terrible idea, he knows, but it’s better than just sitting here.
“Or…” Lucifer sits up, hands dropping to his lap. “…You could go out, find a vamp, or a werewolf…and just let em chew on ya.” Sam’s chest clenches and his stomach twists. “No, really; think about it Sam; you get turned into a monster - well, more of a monster - and then let some hapless hunter chop your head off. Then it’s off to Purgatory you go. ‘Course, you won’t be you anymore, but that’s never stopped you going after Dean before, has it?” Whole thing said with a smug, gleeful look in his eyes and a smile on his face; exact way he’d looked whenever he’d thought up something new in Hell.
He stands up, can’t bear to just sit there and listen to this mental sideshow he’s got going. He finds a diner, somewhere full of people and background noise he can pay attention to. He’s got his and his dad’s journals on the table and he’s on his third mug of thick coffee, can‘t bring himself to eat. Lucifer and Michael are sitting side-by-side in the booth, directly opposite him. Lucifer has a blood-red milkshake, and Michael is methodically eating a cheeseburger with onion rings - exact same order Dean always gets.
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FILLED: Delusional/Hallucinating Sam. 3/4
Date: 2012-05-20 09:46 pm (UTC)“Shut up.” Words spat from his mouth without his permission as his head snaps toward Lucifer’s lounging form, and dammit he’s already slipping back into this.
“Ahh there we go. Finally a little interaction. That’s good, Sam.” Approving smile as he props himself against the headboard.
“Your inability to live without your brother is what’s caused you so much pain in the first place, Sam.” And that‘s rich coming from one of the duelling brothers of the apocalypse. “You should go back to hunting the Leviathan, try and do some good as a soldier before your time is up.”
“I’m getting him out.” Words hissed through gritted teeth and fuck it they aren’t going anywhere, no one else is coming. Maybe he can get Cas to suck the crazy from his head when he breaks them out of Purgatory.
Michael just lets out a disappointed sigh; same as his dad’s when he couldn’t do some complex form of training as a kid; same as Michael’s in the Cage when he’d started screaming too soon. “No Sam, you aren’t. There’s no way to do it, now. Anyone who might have helped you is either dead, working against you, or locked away and out of reach. You need to accept this.”
He vaguely wonders what fucked up part of his brain Michael is supposed to represent, isn‘t sure he wants to know. It’s a long list, anyway.
“Just enjoy the freedom Sammy. Go out, kill some monsters, screw somebody, have some fun.” He doesn’t want to go near Lucifer’s idea of fun.
“He won’t listen.” Michael replies to Lucifer while still staring at Sam. “He’ll never accept a life without Dean in it, and he won’t accept that a life with Dean isn’t what he needs.”
“You don’t talk about him. You don’t know him. You aren’t even real.” He’s aware talking in full sentences to his psychotic imaginings is the beginning of a very steep and slippery slope, but he’s so completely out of options here, and keeping all the words bottled in his head is just making him even more jittery.
“I’m in your mind Sam, I know Dean as well as you do.” Reminder making him clench his fists so tight he feels his nails break the skin, small trickle of blood running out from between his fingers.
“I don’t care. I’ll find a way. I’ll summon Crowley, trap him. I’ll bind Death again if I have to.” It’s a terrible idea, he knows, but it’s better than just sitting here.
“Or…” Lucifer sits up, hands dropping to his lap. “…You could go out, find a vamp, or a werewolf…and just let em chew on ya.” Sam’s chest clenches and his stomach twists. “No, really; think about it Sam; you get turned into a monster - well, more of a monster - and then let some hapless hunter chop your head off. Then it’s off to Purgatory you go. ‘Course, you won’t be you anymore, but that’s never stopped you going after Dean before, has it?” Whole thing said with a smug, gleeful look in his eyes and a smile on his face; exact way he’d looked whenever he’d thought up something new in Hell.
He stands up, can’t bear to just sit there and listen to this mental sideshow he’s got going. He finds a diner, somewhere full of people and background noise he can pay attention to. He’s got his and his dad’s journals on the table and he’s on his third mug of thick coffee, can‘t bring himself to eat. Lucifer and Michael are sitting side-by-side in the booth, directly opposite him. Lucifer has a blood-red milkshake, and Michael is methodically eating a cheeseburger with onion rings - exact same order Dean always gets.