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“Sam, my heart breaks for you. The weight on your shoulders, what you’ve done, what you still have to do. It’s more than anyone can bear. If there was some other way…but there isn’t. I will never lie to you. I will never trick you. But you will say yes to me.”
“You’re wrong,”
“I’m not. I think I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Why me?”
“Because it had to be you, Sam. It always had to be you.”
Sam woke up in a cold sweat, gasping hard for air. He sat up, ignoring the shivers cascading down his spine. Somewhere off to his left, towards the door of their motel room, Dean twitched in his sleep. Despite their argument, despite “being on training wheels”, his older brother can’t fight decades of protecting Sam from the monsters.
But how can Dean protect him from the monster that is Sam? Because it’s not Lucifer that scares him the most. It’s how easy it had been for him to fall off the wagon. All that blood, swirling around in his body, against his soul, like a molotov cocktail. Lucifer is just the flame to ignite him, and he knew…he knew there’d be no coming back from that.
And he craves it. He knows he does, even in his sleep, he’d been biting his tongue just to feel the metallic warmth flow down his throat. But it was wrong. There was no electricity in his blood, not like there is in demon blood. He can taste the darkness, but there was something so sweet about it as well. His own blood doesn’t have that.
He needed to get out. The itching under his skin has already started, and he knows next there would be the fantasies. The thoughts of tracking down a demon, preferably possessing somebody the world could do without…if the human body has traces of sin staining the skin, the darkness in the blood is just all that more thick and runny. He could find someone, a bad person, this time of night, stalking the night…knock them out, put them in a Devil’s Trap…
No.
Sam wrenched himself out of bed, as silently as he could. He ignored the tremors in his hands as he slipped out the door. The cold air socked him square in the tender jaw. Sam winced, but he had to walk away. Just get a drink. The glow of the vending machine flicked in his vision. A cruel voice curled around his conscience, sounding too much like Dean for Sam’s comfort. “Get yourself a warm drink, Sammy. Go on, summon a demon. Any one of the meatsuits in this hotel would do. Better yet, burn that tattoo off yourself. If you control the demon, then it’s an endless blood fountain. Or you could do it to Dean. You know he’s done some fucked up things. Think about how sweet that dark blood would taste…”
No.
Sam pressed his head against the vending machine, drawing in slow breaths. He tried to pull away from the thought of draining his brother’s body. He would never do that to Dean. He’d never do something so violating to Dean’s currently feeble trust and his body. That’s Dean.
As Sam straightened himself up and went to punch the numbers for some fizzy drink that’s probably been in the machine since the Carter administration, he felt his phone go off in his pocket. He stared blankly at the Caller ID before flipping the phone open.
“Cas?”
“Sam…” The angel’s voice seeped through the phone like a sigh of relief. “Where are you?”
“Uh, Canton, Ohio. Red Roof Inn. Dean's in Room—"
"I didn't ask where Dean is. I asked where you are,"
"Oh," Sam frowned. Why would Cas care about him? Sure, they're friends, but Cas was always asking about Dean before he'd ask about Sam. "I'm, uh, at the vending machine. Just next to the Admin office,"
"Sam, I can hear what you're thinking. Stop pulling yourself down like that," Cas sounded much closer now, and the hunter swirled around to see the angel behind him, in all his glory. Dean calls him a 'holy tax accountant', but Sam just sees a respectable man, a kind angel.
"That's a bit evasive, Cas," He didn't know why he felt the need to defend himself. But if Cas can hear his thoughts now…"Wait. Did you hear my nightmare?" Castiel's silence was his answer. "Great. So now you know I'm destined to be Lucifer’s prom dress for the ultimate showdown. How pathetic am I?" He rested his back against the buzzing vending machine.
"You're not pathetic, Sam," Cas frowned, stepping closer to the hunter. "You've been corrupted against your own will, and it's made you sick, but that doesn't make you pathetic," There was a wry smile on Castiel's face, and Sam was quite sure he wouldn't have caught it if the angel wasn't as close as he is now. His business loafers were toe-to-toe with Sam's scruffy second-hand boots, and the hunter could smell the holiness radiating off the angel's simmering skin. It should make an abomination like himself recoil in disgust, but the monster in him salivated at the thought.
"Sam…" Cas tilted his head to the side, eyes dropping to his lips. "That's sacrilegious,"
"I'm sorry," The hunter breathed out.
"But you might be onto something," Cas bit his lip. "Perhaps you could see yourself the way I do if a part of me is always with you," He zeroed his electric eyes into Sam's disbelieving stare. "But only if you want to do thi—"
"Yes," The word flew out of his mouth before he really considered the weight of it. How heavy the word is to him. He threw an anvil like it was a feather because this is Cas. This is Cas. He would trust him with everything he had, including his brother.
"Please don't think about your brother right now," Cas whispered, leaning close enough Sam was inhaling his words, spiced with the taste of what the hunter would believe lightning and love would be. "Thank you,"
"For what?" Sam caught sight of Cas' tongue, splashed red with blood. Blood, blood, blood…
"For trusting me with this," The angel brought his hands to the sides of Sam's face before running his bleeding tongue along his lips. The ravenous monster in Sam kissed back with quiet fury.
Sparks of light, warmth, and love rushed down Sam's throat as he swallowed the communion Castiel offered him. Perhaps this is what true holy enlightenment is, Sam thought.
He would drink from Castiel's chalice, he would take Castiel's bread, his body; Castiel's wine, his blood; whenever Castiel deemed it right. For Castiel was all that is light and holy.
Fuck being Lucifer's, fuck being a part of God's plan. Fuck Heaven, and fuck Hell. There is only Castiel.
"Sam," Cas breathed hotly against his lips. "You shouldn't—"
"Don't," Sam pulled back slightly. "Don't say I can't have you like this. Please," His voice cracked. A brightness in Castiel's eyes had him struck with desperation. "Let me have you like this,"
"Don't take too much, that's all I ask," Cas tilted his head. "Only a taste,"
"Of course," Sam pressed a kiss to Cas' cheek. "Only a sip. Your wine should be shared with the rest of your congregation," He let out a breathy laugh.
"Sam," Cas mumbled. "What do you—"
"Deus meus, salvator meus, " He smiled around the Latin as he went in for another kiss, swallowing Cas' breathy gasp. "My holy grail," He spoke into the angel's neck. "My salvation, my God,"
"Sam—" Cas brought his hands to the hunter's hair, pressing him tightly against the vending machine, forcing space between them. His grip on Sam was not hard enough to hurt, but it was enough to pull the hunter out of his mild delirium.
"Castiel?" The holy name fell brokenly from his newly-hallowed lips.
"I've heard about the effects of angel blood on the human psyche, but I never imagined—" Cas frowned. "We need to be careful with this, Sam. I need you to listen to me,"
"Of course," Of course, of course, of course. I'd follow you into the depths of the Apocalypse, the very fringes of Revelations. Just say the word, Castiel. The thought resounded loudly in his mind, and he knew Cas heard him. The angel stared back cautiously, but Sam could see the residual angelic glow in his irises.
The angel liked the blasphemy as much as the hunter desired the bloodied grace.
"You should go back to sleep, Sam," Cas ran a gentle thumb along Sam's cheekbone. The hunter wanted to argue, but the look in Cas' eye brokered no argument. "If you need me, I'll hear your prayer."
In a blink, the warmth of his angel, his saviour, was gone. But Sam did not mourn him. Instead, the hunter smiled lazily as he walked back to his motel room. He climbed back into bed and settled under the covers before he decided he dared to try.
Sam used to pray every night ever since he learned what faith is. As a child, a teenager, even a young adult, he had so much faith, his body wept from the weight of it. But his prayers were never answered. His faith was misplaced.
But now, he knew he'd be heard, for his God loves Sam as Sam loves Him.
" My Castiel, my heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, as on earth as in heaven. Give me today my daily bread. Forgive me my sins as I forgive those who sin against me. Save me from the time of trial, and deliver me from evil. For my kingdom, my power, and my glory are yours, now and forever. Amen. "
A light breeze swept through the tightly-shuttered room, caressing Sam's hair.
The lamb smiled under the gentle gaze of thy Lord.