You Look Like an Angel

Chapter 5: You're the devil in disguise

Warning: This chapter contains violence, mentions of rape, and strong language.

Pseudo-Lucifer loved to torture Sam.

His favorite method was choking. He liked to hang Sam from chains and listen as Sam screamed in agony over pits of fire. He liked to stab hooks into Sam and rip his insides out. He liked to brake Sam's bones one by one. He liked to crush Sam's throat so Sam couldn't voice his agony.

It was in those moments Lucifer screamed for him.

"Take me! I'm the one you want! Hurt me instead!"

Pseudo-Lucifer turned around and smiled. Then, with a flick of his wrist he broke Sam's neck.

Lucifer screamed, "No!"

Pseudo-Lucifer loved to deny Sam basic human needs. He never let Sam sleep. If he ever saw Sam nodding off he would scream until Sam's ears bled. Then he would heal Sam and start the process all over again.

He didn't let Sam eat or drink, either. One of Pseudo-Lucifer's favorite methods was to shrink Sam's body to the point of starvation. Then he would create a tray of food and laugh as Sam chased after it, the tray always being just out of Sam's reach...

The only solace was when Sam died. But even that didn't last long. Nothing got out of the cage, and Pseudo-Lucifer enjoyed killing Sam and bringing him back to life again. It terrified the human.

Lucifer screamed. He shrieked and rattled his chains, trying to reach Sam if only with his words, but to no avail. Of course it was to no avail. Sam couldn't hear him. He was powerless now, helpless to stop the events playing in front of him. This, more than anything, crushed the archangel. He had always had power, always had control. He had been his Father's favorite before his fall, the most beautiful, supreme angel in all of Heaven. He had been Morningstar, the bringer of light, able to flatten mountains with his power. Now he was nothing. A spectator in the audience of his own demise, his own punishment, unable to save even one helpless human.

Is this what it is like to be human? Lucifer wondered, To watch things be destroyed in front of your face and not be able to do a single thing about it? He had never given thought to how the creatures his father favored lived their lives. They were vile, murderous things; unjust, unlovable –truly instruments of their own demise. Yet perhaps their vices had roots in their origin. To be born so helpless, it was no wonder they sought control –even at the cost of destruction. The desire for protection, for power, was strong one, Lucifer knew, because these things lead to security. And now, watching Sam suffer, Lucifer felt he could almost empathize with the apes. Because now he knew what if felt like to be powerless. Powerless to the point of being unable to protect what you loved...

"Father," Lucifer prayed. How long had it been since he had prayed? Centuries, at least, "Father, please..." Lucifer prayed, "This isn't justice. This isn't right. Don't make him suffer just to punish me! Father please, save him!"

Lucifer waited, his only reply Sam's screams and the false Lucifer's laughter.

His Father didn't answer of course. He never did.

Years passed, and gradually Pseudo-Lucifer seemed to bore with his methods. He turned to psychological means instead, creating Dean, Bobby, Sam's mother, even Jess, and using them to frighten and hurt Sam. Sometimes he would have them call Sam's name. Beg for Sam's help. Die in front of Sam. Say they never loved him. Lucifer empathized with the boy then. He knew what it was like for your family to turn on you.

One day Pseudo-Lucifer seemed to get a new idea. He smirked at Sam as he watched the boy's body heal over.

"Wanna try something new, Sammy?"

Sam gulped.

"Don't worry Sam, if you don't fight it, it might not hurt as much." Pseudo-Lucifer whispered in his ear.

"F-fuck you." Sam rasped.

"That an offer?"

And then the creature began to violate Sam. Sam fought it, at first. He cursed and swore and fought it with all his might. But gradually, he began to submit. He couldn't fight any longer. His endurance had run out. He could only handle so much. His body caved in first, followed by his pride. Gradually, he began to do the things Pseudo- Lucifer told him to do, say the things Pseudo-Lucifer wanted him to say. He gave in to the humiliation.

Lucifer watched as the last shreds of Sam's dignity were torn apart.

And he was enraged.

It wasn't pain Lucifer felt then, or despair. It was anger. Pure, unadulterated anger. The rage of an archangel.

Cracks began to form on Lucifer's chains.

"That's a good boy, Sam." Pseudo-Lucifer whispered mockingly in Sam's ear and Sam whimpered.

Lucifer's voice grew, deep, reverberating power, "You'll never touch him again."

Then something happened.

An explosion.

Blinding flashes of red and white ripped across the cage.

Lucifer was free and the resulting outburst flattened everything in sight. Pseudo-Lucifer disintegrated in an instant. And Lucifer was clutching Sam's soul, holding him tightly. He turned back, going to retrieve Sam's body.

Only to see the white wings of a seraph retreating through the walls.

"CASTIEL!" Lucifer cried, "Castiel— WAIT!"

But it was too late.

The door to the Cage slammed shut.

Lucifer swore. He cursed every entity he knew. He cursed God. He cursed Dean. He cursed Castiel, who had well-meaningly returned for Sam only to leave the most important piece of him behind.

Lucifer cursed and blasphemed until he could swear no more. Then he dropped to his knees, cradling Sam against himself.

"It's going to be alright, kiddo." He whispered into Sam's ear.

Lies. All lies.

"I will never lie to you..." he had promised.

"Everything's going to be alright." He assured Sam.

"Never trick you..." he promised.

"I've got you."

"I want to give you a gift. I want to give you everything." he had said.

Although now Lucifer had nothing to give.

"You're safe."

And the archangel pressed that fragile, yet oddly strong soul against his heart. A heart that had suffered so much anger and betrayal and judgement and pain. A heart that still felt angry. And plaintive. In the mist of the place that was supposed to be his punishment, Lucifer held the only thing in creation that he still loved.