Chapter Text
NOW...
What is a human soul? According to the lore, it's the soul that makes a human body be more than a shell. It's what makes us who we are. It's the reason we care for others, the reason we feel love, pain, anguish, joy and sadness, it's the reason for which we allow ourselves to hope, even when we are facing the darkest of times. But if that's what a soul is, then what happens when it's shuttered? What happens, when our soul is tainted and can no longer shine brightly, like a star which flickers as we turn our gaze on the ebony sky? When does such a bright creation cease to shine? What happens when a soul is past saving? What happens, to all those souls which can not be saved?
Dean knew his soul was tainted, that it was stained with the blood and tears of those poor beings, he himself had relentlessly tortured under Alistair's guidance. He knew his soul was no longer shining, it had stopped the moment his green eyes had turned black as the Mark of Cain turned him into a demon. Dean knew he was a lost cause, a man molded and broken by burdens no one should carry, a man who had been robbed, of his mother's tender touches, of his father's actual love and kindness. Dean knew he was past saving.
He had seen true darkness, the kind of which lures one to the other side, to that place where the light turns cold, where values no longer have meaning, where the soul deems away, leaving one empty and broken. Dean had been there and even though he had managed to return to his former self with the help of Sam, Cas, and of Charlie, he knew he could never be the same. No, Dean was not worth saving. Not by anyone, not for any reason. And yet, he was meant to be saved one more time.
He was meant to be saved by no other than Sam, who would rather let himself be used and tormented at the hands of the being he feared the most, than watch Dean suffer for Lucifer's mere amusement. But Dean wasn't worth it, no, he wasn't worth saving. His soul was dead. He knew it. Then, why was Sam doing this? Why was he allowing Lucifer to do this to him? Dean didn't know, he couldn't answer anything, he couldn't see, hear, or feel anything. Anything, save the terrifying image which his green eyes were witnessing.
So, there he was, standing frozen on the spot, in the main room of the overall dark underground bunker. Forced to watch, as Sam fell to his knees and was then thrown face-down on the floor, hands above his head. Forced to watch, as Lucifer got himself in between Sam's legs, lining up, pushing inside the young man, in one, long, dry and brutal thrust. There he was, forced to listen, as his brother's shirt and jeans were forcibly ripped to shreds, as Sam moaned and shrieked in pain, as flesh met flesh and blood started dripping on the floor.
There he was, forced to watch, as his beloved brother sacrificed his own soul, to save Dean's already wasted one.
Oh God, how had they come to this?
End of Chapter 1