Chapter Text
“Fuckin’ disgusting.” Dean grumbled as the last vamp’s head rolled at his feet. Sam couldn’t help but grimace in agreement. Beheadings were pretty gross any way you looked at it. “Fuckin’ hate these fuckin’ things.” Sam sighed as he glanced around the barn they’d tracked the nest to. At least it would be an easy clean-up in spite of the clusterfuck it had turned out to be. Dean was still glaring at the vamp’s head and Sam shifted somewhat nervously.
“What? Vamps?” He shouldn’t have asked that. He knew it the minute the words were out of his mouth. The last few months with the Mark had been tough and Dean’s temper only seemed to rise as the days passed with no end in sight.
“Of course, the vamps. Bloodsucking freaks.” Sam couldn’t hide the flinch but was glad that Dean still hadn’t turned around and didn’t notice. “Anything that drinks blood should go straight to hell. Too bad they only go to purgatory.” Dean huffed before kicking the head ruthlessly. He swallowed thickly, Dean’s words piercing his very soul. He knew it was only the Mark. Dean, his Dean would never say that. He thought. Although, maybe…
“Listen to me you bloodsucking freak.”
Maybe he would. He shifted from foot to foot, trying to hide his hurt and his nerves. The memory shooting through his mind without warning leaving him off balance. Did Dean really think he should go to hell? Sam was sure that he was going back when he died, but did his big brother not only believe Sam would go, but that he also deserved to go to hell?
“You really think that?” The words came out softer than he’d meant them to and Sam winced at his own weakness. He should be stronger than this. He’d been waiting on Dean to make good on the promise from the voicemail for years now. He knew he was a monster and he was pretty sure Dean also knew that, just hid it underneath years of brainwashing by their dad. ‘Look after Sammy’ was practically John’s version of ‘goodbye.’ He knew, of course he knew, Dean loved him on some level. Probably the same way that he would love a mangy dog. It wasn’t the dog’s fault it was messed up, but it was still messed up and you took it in out of pity, even if it bit you once or twice. Or maybe not. Maybe that’s what he’s been trying to convince himself of for years. Dean loved him, but on some level, Dean also knew he should’ve been put down years ago. Unfortunately, a childhood full of conditioning and codependence made that task much harder.
“’Course. Anything that drinks blood has to be evil man.” Dean shuddered as he cleaned the blood off of his machete. Sam glanced at the dead vampires again. The dead mostly peaceful vampires. This nest had set up permanent residence on the abandoned property and even raised cows, goats, and rabbits to feed themselves. It wasn’t their fault one of their members had taken a nosedive off the wagon and gone on a spree that had caught the Winchester’s attention. The brothers had tracked the vamp back to its nest where it was in the middle of groveling for forgiveness from their leader. Once the hunters had been noticed by the nest, the leader had tried to negotiate, insisting that they would keep their friend on the straight and narrow. Unfortunately, the Mark had been calling for blood and Dean had taken the leader’s head clean off. The other vamps attacked out of self-defense, but they hadn’t been enough to take down Sam or Dean. Sam had had a difficult time with vamp hunts for a while now. He knew Dean didn’t understand it, but it just felt… hypocritical. To kill something because it drinks blood when Sam had done the very same thing. And these creatures needed it to live. At least they had that excuse. Sam was just an addict. He could survive without demon blood. What excuse did he have? “Don’t matter if they say they’re vegetarian or on the wagon or whatever they wanna call it. They all end up killin’ again, it’s just a matter of time.” Sam swallowed thickly again, shifting his weight. He’d been ‘on the wagon’ for a few years now and hadn’t slipped once since he got back from hell. Sure, he still felt the emptiness, the ache in his gut at times. And sure, it was difficult to fight demons and not…
He cut his thoughts off there. He couldn’t continue that way and not make this situation worse.
“I’m gonna go get the gas.” Dean grunted in acceptance and Sam had to stop himself from bolting from the barn. Measured steps, calmly, like nothing was wrong. Deep breaths, steady rhythm. He was fine. His breath wasn’t hitching. He wasn’t choking back sobs or screams. He wasn’t wishing for a bullet to his brain. Everything was fine. He sniffled a little as he grabbed the gas can, wiping his nose with the opposite sleeve. He could get through this. It was just a hunt. Just some vamps. Bodies needed to be burned. Animals released from cages or pens. Just take it one step at a time. No problem.
Then he could break down.
~~~~
When they got back to the bunker, Sam immediately headed for the shower. The hunt had only been a few hours away so they didn’t even bother with a motel. He showered quickly and efficiently, ensuring every bit of blood was out from under his nails and all of the smoke out of his hair. He didn’t want to remember this hunt. Didn’t want to remember Dean’s words but he knew he’d never forget them. They were seared into his brain just like all of his brother’s cruel words. There had been plenty over the years that Sam could remember with crystal clearness. He dressed quickly and snagged a bottle of Jack before heading to his room.
He took a deep pull from the bottle before collapsing onto his bed. It hadn’t been that long since Charlie… since that and he’d barely had time to recover from the harsh accusations his brother threw his way then. He held it together as his brother stated with no uncertainty that it should be Sam himself on that pyre instead of Charlie. Sam knew that. Had known that from the beginning, Dean didn’t even have to say it and if Sam thought any demon would actually deal with him, he’d have brought her back in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, everyone who got close to Sam was likely to die. Death clung to Sam like a poison.
Death.
He hadn’t thought about the horseman much until recently. He wished he’d made the choice to go with him no matter what Dean said. Everything and everyone would have been better off. He took another swig of Jack and his thoughts tumbled back to another time when he had been offered an out. When he’d been given the chance to stop all of this madness before it started.
“Ya know, Samalicious, I got an idea.”
“Oh yeah?” Sam asked with a grunt as he glared at the trickster. Why it had shown up at their motel room to talk to Sam when they’d all thought he was dead, Sam didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. The trickster was powerful and Sam wasn’t sure he really wanted to be alone with the guy. Besides, all of their stakes were in the trunk of the Impala with Dean at whatever bar he’d wandered off to. Bobby had parted ways with the brothers after they left the college. Sam and Dean packed their stuff and took off for the next town thinking the hunt was over. Apparently, they hadn’t been as successful as they’d thought.
“Yyyyuup.” The trickster smirked as it rocked back on its heels. Then he became oddly serious. “Your life. Your destiny. It’s dark, Sam. I can make it all go away.”
“How’s that?”
“A deal.”
“A deal?”
“Mmhmm. I’ll take care of the little demon problem you have.” Sam glanced at the demi-god skeptically. He guessed he could be powerful enough to take on a powerful demon like Yellow-Eyes, but Sam knew things like this didn’t come free.
“And what do you get in return?” The trickster shrugged.
“You.”
“Me?” Sam was taken aback, unsure of the direction this had turned.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I don’t need a sex slave.” The trickster snarled and stuck out his tongue like he tasted something terrible. “But a slave you would be.” Sam stood and shook his head, already denying the idea of selling himself to this creature. “Look, Sam. You’re dangerous and if you make the wrong choices, your future will be grim. I’m not looking for a maid or a real life blow up doll, but letting me make your choices for you would be a much better idea.”
“You really have some nerve, don’t you?” Sam laughed incredulously. How could this creature with the humor of a teenage boy raised by psychopaths possibly make better choices than Sam himself? The trickster shrugged.
“It was only an offer.”
“I think I’ll pass.”
Sam took another drink as the memory washed over him. Oh, how right Gabriel had been. Sam hadn’t known that the trickster was really an archangel in hiding or that he knew so much about what Sam was destined to become. If he had, he’d like to think maybe he would have taken that deal. He would have given up his life, his choices, his everything to save the world from the weapon of mass destruction that was Sam Winchester. Now the archangel was dead (probably) and Sam was just as destructive as ever. A thought occurred to him. Maybe… maybe he could figure out a way to convince his past self to take that deal. He heard a ding from his phone. Even drunk he wouldn’t ignore a hunter that needed help. However, one glance told him it was a text from Dean. With a sigh he opened the message. Dean was leaving for the night to find a bar and a hookup. Sam sent back a thumbs up and tossed his phone aside with a huff. At least he would have the bunker to himself. He didn’t know if he would be able to be around his brother tonight.
Maybe he could use the time to research. He grabbed his now half empty bottle of Jack and shuffled out of his room towards the library. There could be a spell that would let him go back in time like Henry had or maybe something to send a message to himself. He glanced through the bookshelves with bleary eyes and plucked a few grimoires before returning to the table. He looked for what felt like hours. Searching for anything that might help him, but not slowing down his indulgence. Jack was the only study partner he needed tonight, but the guy kept distracting him. Head fuzzy and eyes crossed, Sam’s head hit the table with a soft thud and a groan.
“Gabe, if you’re still out there somewhere, feel free to do the I-told-ya-so dance. Congratulations.” He closed his eyes and tried to will the moisture from his eyes, but Sam’s will had never been that strong to begin with. “I should’ve taken your deal. I-I was stupid and selfish and dumb and…” He trailed off realizing that his words were slurring enough to be embarrassing. He sniffled a little and rubbed his nose. He wasn’t expecting the soft rustle of wings or the comforting hand that landed on his shoulder. He jerked back and nearly toppled out of the chair in shock (not fear, definitely not fear). He squinted at the shorter figure standing next to him, trying desperately to decide if he was hallucinating again or not.
“Gabriel?” The archangel let out a soft sigh.
“Oh, Samshine. What happened to you?” Gabriel was staring, alarm radiating off the angel in waves and Sam could almost imagine six golden wings flaring behind him. Sam swallowed thickly as he realized that the archangel was staring at his chest. At his soul. He winced and tried to shrink into himself. He didn’t want to think about the mutilated thing that was his soul. It was probably filled with scars, not sitting right from being removed, and dimmed from the years of abuse and self-hatred.
“Oh, you know. The usual. Bad decisions. Mass destruction. Monster stuff.” He shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant and trying to pass off the ‘monster stuff’ as referring to hunting and not the fact that he himself should be a hunt. Unfortunately, liquid courage is also liquid truth serum and Sam wasn’t sure how to recover from this slip. It didn’t matter though. He was done trying to be better than he was.
“Sam.” Gabriel sighed as he sat in an empty seat across from him. “You’re not a monster.” Sam shrugged, but he didn’t have a response for that. Didn’t believe it either. However… he did have an archangel in front of him.
“You can still time travel, right?” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded in affirmation. “Could…” Sam cleared his throat and looked away. “Could you go back in time and kill me? As an infant?” Gabriel’s face filtered through a few different emotions before settling on something that looked a lot like pity.
“The angels would only bring you back and then I’d be hunted, so I couldn’t even help you out as much as I did this time.” Sam huffed in defeat and took another long drink from his bottle. The archangel glanced around at the books strown about the tables. “What are you looking for?” Sam blinked (a few too many times) back at the angel before remembering his research.
“I was trying to find a way to contact my past self and tell me to take your deal.” Gabriel hummed in thought and looked around.
“I think we could make that work.” Sam glanced up at that, suddenly seeming much more alert. “However, I don’t want you making this choice while completely schmamered. So…” The archangel reached across the table and tapped Sam’s forehead. Suddenly the hours he’d invested in drinking seemed like a total waste given that he was completely sober. Sam sighed and pushed the bottle away. If Gabriel thought this was a real possibility, then he probably did need a clear head for the spell work.
“If we do this, would it change our timeline or would it just split off into a new one?” Gabriel glanced around the room for a second in thought before smirking.
“I think dear ol’ dad set it up so that alternate universes don’t just branch off at decisions. Sure there is a universe for each decision, but they’re like in their own little bubbles.” Sam nodded, accepting the answer for what it was. Hopefully this would work. It was worth a shot anyway. With both of them working on it, it only took thirty minutes for them to figure out a spell that would send snapshots of both of their memories back to their past selves. With any luck, they would make the right choices after that. Gabriel cleared his throat as he snapped a few ingredients onto the table.
“What are you going to tell Dean?” Sam shrugged. It wasn’t like Dean would care much anyway.
“If this works, I won’t have to tell him anything. If it doesn’t, there’s no reason to piss him off.” Gabriel nodded in agreement and began mixing the herbs into a mortar and pestle. Sam continued to read through the spell, making sure he had the pronunciation correct. They would have to do it twice. Once for Gabriel and once for Sam. With half of the ingredients prepared in the copper bowl, Gabriel used his blade to slice through his arm and allow a small amount of grace to fall into the mixture. He muttered the spell and closed his eyes. Sam felt the air shift with the magic sparking through the air. Grace added to spell work always enhanced it, but archangel grace seemed to make it even more intense. After a few moments it was gone and Gabriel let out a deep breath.
“Your turn kiddo.” Sam repeated the process and when he closed his eyes he thought of every moment that his past self may need to know about.
“If you walk out that door, don’t you ever come back.” The door slamming at his back as he marched away from the abandoned house they’d been squatting in. Praying Dean would come after him but not hearing footsteps or the Impala roaring behind him.
“Jess! No!” His beautiful girlfriend burning on the ceiling.
The crippling visions.
“Because they got in the way of my plans for you.” Yellow-Eyes smirking in triumph from behind his father’s face as Sam was pinned to the wall and Dean was groaning in pain.
Dad dying.
Sam himself dying.
Dean selling his soul.
Ash dying.
Dean dying.
Working with Ruby. Sleeping with Ruby.
Demon blood.
Dean coming back from hell but struggling with the memories.
“Sam Winchester, the Boy with the Demon Blood.”
“If I didn’t know you, I would want to hunt you.”
“It mean’s you’re a monster.”
The panic room and the disgust on Dean’s face when he finally sees what a monster Sam was.
“Listen to me you blood sucking freak.”
Releasing Lucifer and killing Ruby.
“I don’t know that we can ever be what we were. I don’t think I can trust you.”
“Sam, of course, is an abomination.”
Killing Famine but being locked back into the panic room.
Ellen and Jo.
The Hail Mary, allowing Lucifer to possess him and finally, finally gaining control and throwing himself into the cage with two angry archangels and damning his little brother in the process.
Coming back soulless.
Gaining his soul but the wall breaking and going crazy.
Bobby dying.
Taking down the Leviathans but losing Dean.
Failing to look for his brother. Being dumb enough to assume that Dean was in heaven.
“He’s been more of a brother to me than you’ve ever been.”
Failing to close the gates of hell.
Refusing Death only to be tricked into possession again.
Kevin.
Dean taking the Mark of Cain.
Dean becoming a demon.
“Maybe I was just tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire, since... forever. Or maybe -- maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it wasn't for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life.”
Charlie.
Dean blaming Sam for her death and saying he’d rather it had been him on the pyre.
“’Course. Anything that drinks blood has to be evil man.”
Sam sighed and opened his eyes, only faintly noticing the tears silently sliding down his cheeks. He’d never been a pretty crier. Not like his brother. Dean’s tears slid gracefully down his face without any other reaction from his body. Sam on the other hand cried as ugly as his soul was. Face screwed up, heavy sobs, snot. It was horrific. But now he was just too tired to even move his face. Maybe this is how Dean was able to do it. Being so soul crushingly tired from constantly having to care for his monster little brother. Sam couldn’t blame him.
He risked a glance up and noticed that Gabriel seemed to be as in shock as was possible for an archangel manually controlling a vessel, eyes wide and mouth agape. Sam couldn’t figure out why, and honestly he didn’t care. If this didn’t work… Sam wasn’t sure what he would do. He collapsed into his seat and snatched the bottle of Jack once again.
“You heard all of that, didn’t you?” Gabriel nodded mutely but had the decency to close his mouth. Sam sighed and took a long swig of his drink before passing the bottle across the table. Gabriel didn’t even bat and eye, just drank the rest of the bottle before snapping and another one appeared next to it.
“What have you imbeciles done?!” A stern voice rumbled throughout the library harsh enough to make even Gabriel flinch.
“Death.” Sam greeted him cordially and offered him the bottle. Death stood for a long moment, like he was trying to decide on the best course of action (smiting or another cage) before releasing a long-suffering sigh and taking a seat at the table. He pushed the liquor away with a face of disgust and it took Gabriel only moments to snap some onion rings and a slurpee into existence for him. He seemed much more content with the new offerings but still disgruntled.
“What universe shattering blunder have you made this time?” Sam sighed and slouched down into his seat more as he took another swig from the full bottle.
“I’m tired, Death. There’s been too much. There’s still too much.”
“I understand that, Samuel. That’s why I offered you eternal rest before.”
“I know.” Sam choked out, his throat convulsing with the weight of his words. “I should have gone with you.”
“My boy, the human soul can only withstand so much.” Death murmured softly. “And yours has held up to far more than even I thought possible.”
“Well, I’m not entirely human though, am I?” The bitterness in his words stung even to himself and he wanted to take them back as soon as he said them. That wasn’t possible though. Sam had a teacher once when he was a child that told them their words were like toothpaste. You squeeze out the words easily enough but it’s nearly impossible to put it back in the tube. That lesson in particular had stuck with Sam. It’s why he was so careful with what he said. In the past, he’d been full of anger that had caused him to allow things to slip from time to time, but he still maintained to use his words to his advantage most of the time. Now though, now when he was being crushed under the weight of his choices and life the words were being squeezed out without his approval. Death hummed in thought, cautious with how to move forward.
“No, I suppose not entirely.” The words fell like a hammer on his soul. He’d always held out hope that everyone else was just wrong. That Sam’s own self-hatred had caused his objectivity to be skewed. However, even Death was agreeing that Sam was a monster. “However, there are many creatures and beings that don’t require humanity to be good.” Sam glanced away, his attention caught back on the spell components.
“Years ago, before any of this started, Gabriel offered me a deal. A way to stop any of this from happening.” Death hummed again carefully as he munched on an onion ring. “I arrogantly turned him down.” Sam swallowed again and glanced guiltily at Gabriel. “I used a spell to send my memories to my past self. Maybe if he makes the deal, everything that happened can be avoided, Lucifer won’t be released, the angels won’t fall, Cas won’t fall, and Dean can live a happy life.”
“I suppose.” Death murmured only to be interrupted by the slamming of a door and a harsh voice.
“Sam!”
~~~~
Dean had to get out of the bunker. He couldn’t face Sammy right now. He just couldn’t. The Mark on his arm may make his tongue loose and his anger sharp, but it didn’t make him stupid or blind. He snatched his car keys and shot off a quick text to let Sammy know he was headed out and then quickly fled to the safety of his Baby and solitude. It didn’t take him long to find a bar. Somewhere he could hide in a dark corner with his thoughts and self-degradation. Contrary to what his brother may believe, Dean had noticed how worn down Sammy had been lately and it had all been Dean’s fault. The kid could only take so much and Dean couldn’t even blame him. He wasn’t the easiest person to live with these days.
His own words bounced around his head on replay. He hadn’t really meant to blame his brother for Charlie’s death. He hadn’t meant to blame his brother for mom’s death. He hadn’t meant to blame his brother for how shitty Dean’s life had turned out. Sure, those last two had been said while he was a demon, but they still hit way too close to home. He also hadn’t been thinking when he said that anything that drinks blood should go to hell. Again, he wasn’t blind. He saw the hesitation any time Sam had to kill a vampire, like the kid was trying to decide if he should be decapitated as well. In the past it had made Dean painfully sad, Sammy believing himself no better than a vampire. Now though, it seemed to only make him angry. That same base emotion of grief and despair only fueled rage as a secondary emotion these days. Once the rage was gone, shame crept in. Now Dean hid from his brother instead of patching him up. It only seemed to continue the cycle of self-hatred Dean had found himself in lately.
After spouting off how disgusting bloodsuckers were, Dean could barely look at his brother. They’d rode back to the bunker in near silence and went their separate ways as soon as they were back. As soon as he was cleaned up enough to not cause chaos if he went in public Dean fled. And drank. And hated himself. When had he lost the part of himself that took care of his brother? When had he quit being Sammy’s big brother? He didn’t know and he wasn’t sure he would figure it out. He couldn’t even blame all of it on the Mark. Something had changed between the two of them years ago and Dean had let it. He wasn’t sure they could even go back now.
He drank until the thoughts began to fade. Unfortunately it took a hell of a lot more to get drunk now that he had the Mark, but alcohol eventually worked every time. After several hours of solitude with his favorite beer, an odd tingling at the base of his neck alerted him to something being wrong. His somethings-wrong-with-Sammy radar was pinging on all levels. He quickly paid his tab and rushed to his car. He wasn’t far away, but that didn’t stop him from trying to call his brother. When all three calls went unanswered, Dean pushed the pedal harder, forcing his Baby to go as quickly as possible without alerting authorities. When he finally reached the bunker, his heart was pounding and his thoughts racing. What could be wrong with Sammy? Sadly his fear was also fueling the Mark and pushing anger back to the surface. He slammed the bunker door opened and rushed inside, unable to keep the anxiety and rage from his voice as he shouted for his brother.
~~~
Sam flinched at the harsh calling of his name. It didn’t get past either being at the table with him. He didn’t even care enough to stand and brace for the possible attack when Dean raced into the room. He simply took another drink and allowed the bottle to dangle from his fingers over the armrest. Gabriel hummed as he studied Dean like a science experiment.
“So, your Sammy-senses still work, you just choose when to use them. That it?” Gabriel’s tone was harsh and defensive. Completely unexpected from the archangel who had tormented them as much as he had helped in the past.
“Gabe…” Sam sighed, trying to prevent a fight between the two before it started.
“Tha’ hell are you doin’ here?” Dean growled as he moved closer but froze when he noticed that the third person with them was Death. “Death.” Dean’s tone changed to confusion as he noted the three of them sitting around spell work and lore books. “What’s going on?”
“Your brother has yet again done something with drastic cosmic consequences.” Sam squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to see the hatred and disappointment on Dean’s face. “Samuel.” Death called and he couldn’t have rejected the request if he’d tried. “You would give up all that you have worked so hard to accomplish, all that you are, and live a subservient life instead?” Sam swallowed thickly, blinking rapidly as he tried to figure out how to say what he needed to say.
“If it means none of my mistakes happen, all of those lives saved,” Sam couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to Dean once but was taken aback by the stricken look on his face. “Of course I would.” He turned back to Death who was gazing at him like a bug under a microscope. He guessed that’s what he really was to something as powerful as Death. The horseman nodded once as he stood.
“Very well. Perhaps this is the best course of action should it work. It could stop your next unwise decision from having even more drastic consequences on the universe at large.” Death’s eyes snapped to the Mark before looking back at Sam. “And if it does not, you only need to call me Samuel. We will figure something else out.” Sam stood and Death offered him his hand. “Good luck, my boy. I will be keeping my eye on you.”
“Thank you.” Sam nodded gratefully and then Death was gone. Sam smiled gratefully at the place Death once stood. Maybe he still had a few allies. Gabriel blew out a harsh breath and looked back at Sam.
“You were looking for a way to remove the Mark?” Sam nodded, unable to meet the archangel’s eyes. “Yeah, not a good idea.” Sam shuddered. If Gabriel and Death both said it was a bad idea with drastic repercussions, well Sam wasn’t sure what he would’ve done if the archangel hadn’t answered his prayer.
“Sammy, what have you done?” His eyes snapped up to meet Dean’s for the first time in months but this time he didn’t flinch at the cold edge to his brother’s voice. To Sam, his brother looked like he’d been dunked in ice water. A livewire running through his frame, unsure if he should attack or run away. He looked back at the spell work before taking a drink from the bottle. He released a deep sigh as his resolve deepened. He’d made the right choice.
“Dean.” He sighed a sad drunken smile gracing his lips. “It’s nothing you need to worry yourself with.”
“Death was here, Sam.” Dean’s growl was growing with his confusion and lack of information. “I think that’s something I need to worry about.”
“And he approved the decision.” Dean sighed, but it seemed more frustrated than relaxed.
“Really, Dean-o. If it works you have nothing to worry about. If it doesn’t work then, again, nothin’ to worry about except that ugly ass tattoo on your arm.” Gabriel piped in before sharing a look with Sam. He was starting to feel odd. A ripple. Maybe that meant that the spell had worked. That his past self made the choice Sam should have all along.
“De.” Sam called and paused. He hadn’t called his brother that in years but it felt right now. He didn’t think he had long to say what needed to be said. It wouldn’t matter in the long run. Not really. Sam however, felt he needed some closure. “I hope…” He cleared his emotion clogged throat and tried again. “I hope that you can forgive me. For my mistakes. For everything.” Gabriel winked at him, a clear sign that time was about to change for good. He needed to hurry this along.
“Sammy…”
“I don’t,” He swallowed again as he interrupted his brother. “I don’t expect you to really. It’s fine. I’m hoping what we did changed things enough that none of this will matter.” He wiped his face with his hand. “I just want you to know I’m grateful. I’m so damn grateful for everything you’ve done for me. Everything you gave up or lost because of me.” This time his brother didn’t even try to talk, just walked forward and grabbed Sam into a tight hug.
“Sammy, it’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.”
“I know. Gabriel and I made sure of it.”
~~~
Sam was twelve years old when his life took a hard left and drove straight off a cliff with no way back. He guessed he should have seen it coming, but what child would have ever thought their father hated them enough to trade their life away? It all started with that damn dream. He’d woken a few mornings ago sweating, sobbing, and shaking like a leaf. Blurry and odd scenes of much older versions of himself and his brother going through trial after trial with no end in sight. By the time he’d woken up the scenes had faded to a hazy images, but the last part of the dream stayed. A soft plea to “Take the deal.” Sam had no idea what deal was being offered. He’d been confused and scared, and his father had been staring at him oddly ever since. It hadn’t felt like a normal dream. Sam didn’t know how to explain it, but it didn’t feel like just some nightmare no matter what his father said. It was times like this that he was beyond grateful for his big brother. Unfortunately, Dean wasn’t there.
Sam huffed as he looked at the finished list in his hands. He wasn’t exactly sure why John wanted a list of pagan gods and their summoning rituals. Especially since he was currently hunting a werewolf, but Sam did as he was told with only minimal grumbling. His training could have been a much worse task considering Dean wasn’t here to look out for him. John had dropped Dean off at Uncle Bobby’s for the summer since his older brother had finally hit the age to be able to get his GED and never return to school. Both older Winchesters had been more than happy for Dean to get his GED, but Dean had protested being left at Bobby’s. Sam thought his older brother had never quite trusted John with his care. He really didn’t blame Dean, John’s parenting skills were even worse when it was just Sam around. He’d never mentioned it to Dean, but John frequently left the youngest without food or money for a few days. John also blurred the lines between ‘spanking’ and ‘beating’ with Sam a good bit. He’d never tell his big brother though. Wouldn’t ruin Dean’s hero for him. So, with Dean gone for the summer, Sam quickly took on his new task of identifying and making note of any pagans with a penchant for justice, deals, or vengeance. It was a largish list. Maat, Loki, Themis, Durga, Takhar, Vidar, and plenty more. Once he found the names, he found the summonings needed for each one. Another oddity for John, but Sam wasn’t going to question his father and make life hell right at the beginning of summer. He was actually pretty proud of himself, John had given him a deadline of a month and Sam had finished in two weeks. He was pretty sure once John returned from the hunt and then sobered up, he would be… not angry. John would never be proud of something Sam did, but maybe he would at least be somewhat happy with his work. Sam had spent hours at the library finding these names and lists. He would have called Uncle Bobby, but John had told him he wasn’t allowed to get outside help from other hunters.
John returned by eight pm and was irritable. It didn’t look to be a very promising night for Sam, but he hoped that everything would be… okay. Okay-ish? He startled as the door slammed shut and John staggered to the bed. John only got one bed this time, but at least there was a couch for Sam. He only grumbled about it a little. “How’s the research coming, boy?” Sam grabbed his list and quickly made his way to his father. He passed the notebook over and hoped he hadn’t missed anything. “That all of ‘em?” Sam nodded and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. John just grunted and tossed the notebook down. “You eat?”
“No, dad. You’ve been gone for two days and you didn’t leave any money.” Sam flinched before the slap even hit. He should’ve known better than to talk back when his dad was in his… mood or whatever. Drunk. John pulled out his wallet and passed over a credit card with the name Don Keyhoetey. Sam snorted. Apparently Dean didn’t pay much attention to what names he put down on applications and Sam’s smartass responses went way over his head. But then maybe the credit card companies didn’t pay much attention either.
“Order a couple pizzas.” Sam snatched the card and placed the call quickly. Twenty minutes later, Sam was scarfing down the greasy pizza like it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. He didn’t question it when John passed him a beer with a slap on the back. Maybe his dad was more proud of Sam’s work than he’d seemed. Sam gulped the beer and winced. Dean had given him a few before and they had tasted decent. This one tasted… off. Sam would have questioned it a bit more, but what the hell was a twelve year old supposed to know about alcohol? Maybe this brand was just… yuckier than the one Dean got. Sam finished his pizza and beer quickly, the full belly and alcohol making him sleepy already. He stumbled towards the couch, not even thinking about a shower or brushing his teeth. He was pretty sure he was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.
When Sam woke up his head felt fuzzy and his mouth was so dry he thought he’d had cotton stuck inside it. He smacked his lips a few times, clumsily trying to get some saliva working again. It took him way too long to realize he couldn’t move and that his hands were bound in front of him. He startled somewhat at the realization and looked around the room. He was still in the hotel room with John grumbling in the corner. How long had he been asleep? It was bright daylight outside and his dad seemed far more sober than he had been. “Dad?” He tried to call, but he was pretty sure it just came out as a slurred “da.” John ignored him and continued with whatever he was doing. Sam’s head was swimming, but he started trying to work his hands free. Maybe this was a test. John liked to test their ability to get out of different situations. John was probably trying to train him in something.
Two hours later and all Sam had managed to do was rub his wrists bloody. What the hell was going on? John had ignored him the entire time and had even left for about an hour. His head was a good bit clearer now and he could finally think straight. He was pretty sure that the beer his dad had given him had been drugged. He huffed at his stupidity. Why would John ever reward him with anything? Now more than ever he was wishing for Dean. His brother would tell him to calm down and help him figure out how to get out of these stupid ropes. Clearly this was a knot that John had never shown them before. Sam was startled by the sound of John moving closer, a gun in his hand. “Now, you listen to me. We’re going to go get in the car and you’re not going to make a sound or draw attention to yourself. Got it?” Sam nodded. Of course he wouldn’t. He wasn’t stupid. What was John doing though? Why had he done all of this? Sam quickly made his way to the car and sat in the backseat where John directed. He only flinched a little when John reached inside and tied another rope around Sam’s wrists and left it long. A leash. What the fuck? He tried to puzzle his way through the whole situation for the entire car ride, but couldn’t come up with anything. John pulled the car to a stop outside of an abandoned warehouse. Ominous, but not really anything new. Sam stayed put and waited for orders for once. His dad opened the trunk and got a duffel out before opening the door for Sam and tugging on the rope. Sam was practically dragged behind his father by his wrists as he stumbled and tried to keep up. He was a small kid for fuckssakes and John should know that he can barely keep up with an adult man. John didn’t seem to care though. They came to a stop in the middle of a large open room of the warehouse near a post. John tied the rope to the post and dropped the duffel before digging around in it. Then he pulled out Sam’s notebook. Odd.
Maybe Sam should have seen it coming when John summoned the first god on the list. Maybe not. He was surprised that John had been able to find all of the ingredients so fast, but why would John be summoning a god? They usually killed the things when they ran into them. The first god summoned had been Durga who simply laughed and said “no,” before leaving. The next few didn’t stick around long. Two said they didn’t make any deals which was odd… Why the hell… oh. Sam started to panic slightly as he realized that maybe John was about to do something unforgivable. Was Sam about to be… to be… to be sacrificed? For what though? The first one to not leave immediately was Loki. The god was shorter than Sam imagined, but was staring at him with an intensity that was unsettling. Sam couldn’t take his eyes off the god either. For some reason he seemed familiar. Like Sam had seen the creature before. How could he have seen him before though?
“What do you want, John and what are you offering?” The god asked, never taking his eyes off of Sam. John rushed towards him and untied him from the post before yanking the boy behind him.
“The boy.” The boy? The boy?! When had Sam gone from ‘my son’ to ‘the boy?’ Sam squeezed his eyes shut in fear. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.“In exchange for the death of a demon.” The god eyed Sam again before looking back to John.
“There’s a lot of demons out there, John.”
“This one’s different. Has yellow eyes.” Loki nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment.
“So you're telling me, if I kill Azazel then I get the child to do whatever I want?” Sam was starting to shake in fear and began tugging on the rope. He wanted to run. He wanted out of this. He wanted Dean.
“Take him. Do as you want. Just kill the yellow-eyed bastard.” That’s what Sam’s life was worth? The death of a demon? Why this demon? What was so special about it?
“Why would you make this deal?” Loki asked as he glanced at John suspiciously.
“Demon did somethin’ to the boy. Dunno what, but somethin’s wrong with ‘im.” Sam shook a little more. He’d been so careful. Or so he thought. The dreams had been getting worse (one dream in particular came to mind) and occasionally things moved around the room when he was upset, but he didn’t think John had ever noticed. He'd never even told Dean! Loki hummed thoughtfully.
“This is a big ask, hunter. To kill the King of Hell, maybe I need more than one son.” Sam jerked on the ropes even harder. He had to warn Dean or Bobby! He couldn’t let this god take them both!
“No! You get the boy and that’s it. Leave Dean out of it.” Sam felt relief for a moment that at least Dean wouldn’t be part of the deal. It was short lived though when Loki turned his stare back to him. He was tugging hard enough to break open his scabbed wrists again, desperately trying to get away. He didn’t want to be sold!
“Fine. You have yourself a deal.” Take the deal filtered back through his mind and Sam couldn’t stop the confusion on his face. He wasn’t making a deal though, his father was. Was that what this was? Or had it been something else? Loki smirked as he pulled a piece of candy from his pocket. “I’ll even do you one better. I’ll kill Azazel and a second demon that has it out for you as well. You give all rights to your youngest son to me.” John nodded and held out a hand. Sam watched in horror as his father shook his life away. John jerked on the rope, pulling Sam close to him again and gripping the back of his neck. Sam whimpered and tried to jerk away.
“Dad, please don't do this.” His protests fell on deaf ears as his father only tightened his grip.
“How do I know you’ll hold up your end?” Loki sighed before snapping up all that was needed for a demon summoning.
“Go ahead. Make sure you use his name.” Loki crossed his arms like he was bored and continued to snack on candy. Sam was shaking in fear and rage. How could this happen? How could he get out of this? He was going to be eaten or turned into a sex slave for a god! He would never get to say goodbye to his big brother! He was so lost in his terror he didn’t notice the demons entering the room until their dead bodies were thudding to the floor. He looked up at the god just long enough to see him pass an odd-looking revolver towards his father.
“Dad, please. Please don’t do this! Don’t let him take me!” Sam begged as he realized that Loki’s end of the deal was already done. Sam was about to be made this god’s bitch! No. Nope. Nu-uh. That couldn’t happen! John would pull out a stake! John would drag Sam away! It had all been a prank. A horrible, horrible bait job. Sam would go back with John to the motel. Sam would go see Dean again. But thats not what happened. Sam hit his knees as John shoved him forward toward the god. He flinched as Loki clamped his hand around the back of Sam’s neck, gasping as he felt the magic flowing through him. His arms burned and he watched in horror as two tattoo-like snakes were slithering up and wrapping around his forearms. He jerked and tried to rub his arms to get the snakes off, but it was no use. They were embedded in his skin. In his very soul. He made a choked sound when he felt the same sensation on his neck and cried out when the burning intensified under Loki’s hand. It was over almost as soon as it started. A million years or an instant he wasn't sure.
“Pleasure doing business with ya,” Loki smirked and the last thing Sam saw of his father was the man’s back as he exited the warehouse. There was no goodbye. No “I’m sorry.” No begging Loki to take care of him. No stakes. He looked up at the god who was now staring after John with a look of disgust. He thought he heard Loki mutter something about a ‘piece of shit’ as he snapped and suddenly Sam found himself in a living room. Sam looked around in fear. He was in a clean, modern looking penthouse or apartment that probably cost more than all of the motel rooms Sam has lived in combined. His hands were still bound and he was still on his knees by Loki’s feet. Now the disgust was pointed at Sam. “Ground rules,” Loki started, “no trying to kill yourself. You can’t. You will live as long as I say you do. No trying to kill me. You couldn’t even if you tried and it will only piss me off.” Sam nodded and tried to blink away the tears that were rapidly gathering in his eyes. This had to be a nightmare. He would wake up and be with Dean and everything would be fine and he would be okay and he wouldn't be trapped in some crazy universe with a god and… And… and…
“What did you do to me?” Sam asked cautiously as he eyed the snakes on his arms.
“I bound you to me. Essentially, you are now mine and will remain that way for the foreseeable future.” The god didn’t sound happy or upset by this information. He was just stating a fact. Sam’s brain was probably trying to count his blessings or something because the thought that went through his mind was ‘at least I’m not on the menu.’ How did his life come to this? How did he end up some fucked up slave to a pagan god? Maybe he was going into shock because he still hadn’t moved and his eyes were still unfocused. Loki seemed content to leave him be for the moment and the hunter part of Sam thought maybe he should keep better track of the guy.
“Why?” Sam surprised himself by asking another question. Loki would probably run out of patience soon, but his dad always said he’d get killed because he asked one too many questions. It tracked. He looked around the room a moment blinking rapidly to try and clear his vision. Loki was sitting on a couch staring at him. The god cocked his head like he was confused and Sam decided he was probably being invited to clarify. “Why would you make that deal? Why take me?” Loki narrowed his eyes, but gestured for Sam to move closer. He stood carefully with his hands still bound in front of him. He shuffled a little forward and moved to sit on an armchair.
“Don’t!” Loki growled and Sam froze. “Not on my furniture.” Sam winced, confusion clearly showing on his face, but he remained standing and moved away from the furniture. He shuffled in place for a moment before glancing back at Loki. Sam swallowed hard at the irritable look on the god’s face and hoped that he hadn’t just pushed too many limits. Loki sighed. “You can kneel at my feet or sit on the floor.” Sam nodded and sat criss-cross-applesauce where he was. He wasn’t about to kneel at this fucker’s feet like some pet. “Eventually you will learn proper etiquette, but I’m in no mood for training you now.” The god snapped and suddenly he was holding a drink that looked like it probably had alcohol in it. “As for why I accepted your father’s deal, well there’s several reasons. Most importantly though, to stop you from fucking up the world.” Sam winced and glanced back at the god. What the hell did he mean, Sam would fuck up the world? “You can feel it, can’t you? You’re different.” Sam nodded, unwilling (or maybe unable) to lie to the god. “You have demon blood in you. A powerful weapon for hell in the apocalypse. Some would call you the antichrist.” Sam’s eyes widened in alarm. He wasn’t evil! He would never help hell with anything! He wasn’t… he couldn’t… He became faintly aware of the fact that he was hyperventilating. The god rolled his eyes and huffed a frustrated sigh.
“I wouldn't! I'm not…”
“Tell me, kid. If Dean was on the line, what would you do? Is there anything you wouldn't do to save him?” Sam’s eyes widened at the thought, but he ended up looking away, knowing the answer wasn’t one Loki would like. There wasn’t much he could imagine himself saying no to if it would save his big brother. “I did you a favor, taking you in like this. Taking your choices from you. Now you can’t ruin the world. Say thank you.” Sam sniffled and tried to calm his breathing. It was like he was hearing Loki from underwater. Muffled. He took two more gasping lungfuls of air and steadied himself. He could do this. He was a hunter after all. He felt his face transform into a blank mask and he finally looked back at the god.
“Th-thank you, s-sir.” Loki nodded in approval. Apparently the ‘sir’ was the right move. The god eyed him oddly for another few minutes but Sam remained quiet.
“Ya know, future you was begging for this deal.” Sam looked up in shock at the god. Future him? That made no sense. “Lemme guess. You had a dream recently that was all of an older you’s biggest mistakes?” Sam nodded numbly and looked back at his bound hands. “It was all real. That was your future. Some how future you got future me to go along with this crap and they sent it all back to me too. How much do you remember?”
“N-not much. It-it faded when I woke up.”
“I was afraid of that. That’s why I set it up so your father would make the deal for you.” Sam nodded again, unable to convince his voice to work. “Now. There’s food in the fridge. Don’t want you trying to starve to death if I’m gone for any length of time. Help yourself to that. Don’t try to escape. You won’t.”
“Y-yes, sir.” Loki stood abruptly and grabbed Sam by the upper arm, hauling him off the ground. The ropes were removed finally and then he felt a… well Sam didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling, but it was definitely a rush of power of some sort running through him. He looked down in awe at his freshly healed wrists. The god jerked him forward and Sam stumbled behind as he was dragged down a hall. He was led to what looked like a bedroom at the end and then shoved in.
“This is your room now. Bathrooms through there. Shower, whatever. There’s towels you can use. Clothes in the closet are for you. If you need something, don’t call.” The door was slammed as Loki left him alone.
He felt like crumbling to the floor. He didn’t. He wanted to though. He looked over toward the door Loki had pointed out for the bathroom. A shower sounded like a good idea, but right now he didn’t have the emotional or physical energy to manage that. He looked at the bed. It looked incredibly comfy, but Loki had told him to stay off the furniture. He sniffled a little. His life had never been all that luxurious, but at least he’d usually had a bed or couch to sleep on. Even when he had to share with Dean, he’d had a mattress. The worst moments, they had sleeping bags. Now he had nothing. He wandered toward the far wall and slunk to the floor. It wasn’t cold, but he felt a chill. Probably shock. His life had taken a drastic turn today. Had it only been today? He’d woken up this morning tied up by his own father and then traded away like some kind of valuable poker chip. Now he was… he was…
Was he really going to just accept this? Was he going to just be a slave now? He should fight. He really should. He was a hunter and now he was held captive by a pagan god. How was he going to get out of this? He had no access to anything useful for hunting. He couldn’t kill Loki. It wasn’t like the god just kept stakes dipped in the blood of his victims laying around. If he did kill Loki, he probably wouldn’t ever get out of this place. Did he even want to get away? If what Loki said was true, if the dream was true, it was better for the entire world if Sam didn’t escape. Could what Loki said really be true? Was he really destined to end the world? Was he really evil? He didn’t necessarily feel evil, but he’d always felt like there was something wrong with him. Something dark. Something… twisted. He wanted to deny it. Wanted to argue that he was human. He was normal. Deep down he knew he wasn’t. The emergence of some little bits of… something was definitely not stacking the odds in the ‘Sam-is-human’ corner. He’d always had nightmares, lately though they seemed… more. Realistic. Detailed. Not… dreamlike. The weird almost telekinesis he’d experienced was the most damning. Damning. Ha. Loki said he had demon blood inside of him. He was part demon. The antichrist. He looked down at his hands in confusion. Clenched them tight a few times just to feel the sting of his nails. How human even was he? It probably was better that he was kept on a leash. Better that he was bound to someone (something) that could stop him should he do something bad. Why did this happen to him? What had he done to deserve being born… this? He must have been a shit person in a past life or something. A few more clenches of his fists and he was feeling anxious again. His breaths came out in quick pants as his thoughts whirled around like a hurricane trapped in a snowglobe. His head felt too small. His brain felt too big. It was all too much and not enough. He needed to escape. He needed his brother. He needed… he needed…
He needed to pee. He could focus on that. Bodily needs. One foot in front of the other to get to the other side and all that. He pushed himself up from the floor and stumbled towards the bathroom. It was large, clean. A nicer bathroom than he’d ever been in in his life. He did his business quickly and then moved to the sink. He tried his best not to look at himself in the mirror. He didn’t want to look up and see how horrible he must look. He splashed some cold water on his face and out of habit opened his eyes as he dried it on a hand towel. A small whimper left him as he habitually looked at his reflection in the mirror. Around his neck were similar tattoo snakes. Two of them twisting in an ornate ribbon all the way around. A collar. It looked like a tattooed collar around his neck. He turned slightly to see the back of his neck and noticed there the snakes twisted into an odd ‘S’ like shape. Somehow, this made the whole slave thing even more real than the snakes on his forearms did. A sob bubbled up from his chest and before he knew it he was ugly crying all over the bathroom. His life was over. All dreams he’d ever had of college and friends were gone in the blink of an eye. Nobody cared about what he had wanted. If he was the antichrist though, should he really get to have hopes and dreams? He was evil. Evil didn’t deserve friends. Evil didn’t deserve big brothers who loved them. Evil didn’t get to go to college or settle down. Evil should be contained.
An indeterminate amount of time later, Sam finally went back to the bedroom. He collapsed in his corner and stared longingly at the bed. He was evil though. He didn't deserve the human comforts of a fluffy bed. He curled into a ball on the floor as his mind went thankfully blank. He would accept this. He would do whatever Loki said and be the best slave he could.
Chapter 2
Notes:
Let me know what you think. :)
Chapter Text
What the hell had he been thinking? Gabriel landed on the moon with a huff and then screamed until every pent up emotion he had was released. Stupid fucking brothers and their stupid fucking fighting and stupid fucking vessels that would end the stupid fucking world. He'd gone because future him said that containing the vessel was important. Sent him all of the information about what would happen and how close the stupid fucking Winchesters had been to ending the world multiple times and undoing so much hard work he and his brothers had put in. I mean Leviathans, really? And they’d barely managed to avoid releasing the Darkness. He shuddered. He wouldn’t let this brat ruin so much that Gabriel had done. According to his future self, he’d offered the deal to Sam at some point, but the idiot didn’t take it. Then several years and global catastrophes later, dumbass number two had realized Gabriel was right all along and encouraged his past self to offer the deal earlier or more frequently. Well, after what he’d been told, he wasn’t leaving it up to chance. He made a few brief visits to the Winchesters to screw some stuff up in the room when Sam was mad, gave the kid some spooky dreams, ya know the usual. Then he planted the idea in John’s mind while he was particularly drunk. Trade the kid in exchange for the death of Azazel. Maybe the guy had been drunker than Gabriel thought given how many gods the idiot summoned, but whatever. It worked out like a charm.
Gabriel didn't care about the kid. He didn't. He didn't. The hellspawn thing didn't bother him really, but the fact that the kids soul was such a perfect reflection of the Morningstar’s grace was obnoxious. Seeing that soul shine so brightly made something in Gabriel ache to a point it was almost physical. One thing he knew for sure was he couldn't let John's memories remain intact. It would be very bad if any of his siblings got ahold of John and decided to look into his mind and see Gabriel had been involved. Once he screamed everything out into the void of space, he made his way to the motel John was in. The hunter was passed out and still clothed. It didn't take more than a tap to his forehead for Gabriel to erase the memories of dealing Sam away and implanting new ones where the kid had died hunting a werewolf. Easy enough fix. He snarled at the stupid human. He was lucky he wasn't being tossed Into oblivion. Loki didn't condone selling children or child abuse. Another tap to the forehead ensured John knew it was his fault Sam had “died.”
He had also killed both demons with the fabled Colt and left it with John. When the angels investigated the preemptive death of the final seal, all they would find was a hunter who had managed to get revenge and accidentally avert the apocalypse in the same blow. Michael would be pissed once he realized what happened but Gabriel was trying not to think about that now. He wished that he had been able to secure both vessels but at least one was better than none. With his job done, he returned to the pocket dimension he had ditched the kid in. He needed a few more wards and protections around it.
It didn’t take long for Gabriel to ward the pocket dimension. It wasn’t a large dimension or anything and it had already been fairly secure. He just had to increase the angel wards to make sure none of his siblings could flit their way in without his approval. None of them would get that though. With the wards done, Gabriel went to check on the kid. He wasn’t in the main part of the house so he knew the kid had to be in his bedroom. Was it typical for slaves to have an entire bedroom with as many amenities as Gabriel had provided? No. of course not. But Sam was still just a child. Yes, he would have to make sure Sam knew the proper protocol and rules before they mingled with any other gods. He would also have to make sure that Sam knew how to act and what to expect as a typical slave. That didn’t mean he wanted to abuse or neglect the kid himself. He wouldn’t lower himself to the level of John Winchester.
To his utter surprise, he found the child asleep in the floor of his bedroom. Sam was curled into a tight ball in the corner and shivering. Gabriel looked back at the bed in confusion. Was it too comfortable for a kid that was used to the bare minimum? He walked over and poked the kid in the shoulder hoping to gently wake him.
~~~
Sam woke to a hard floor and someone poking his arm. It wasn’t even close to the first time he’d woken this way but something about it sat weird to him. He blinked his eyes open, expecting his big brother to be leaning over him only to be met with golden eyes instead of green. He flinched slightly and tried to push himself further into the corner as he remembered he would never be woken by his big brother again. He was Loki’s pet monster now and there would be no more concerned Dean to take care of him. Loki held his hands up to show he was unarmed but Sam knew that didn’t really matter in the long run. Loki was a god and Sam was bound to him. It would never matter if the being’s hands were empty. He pushed himself up until he was sitting and glanced curiously at the unassuming person in front of him. If he’d met Loki on the street he would never have guessed the guy was anything but a small normal man. He knew better now.
After he’d been left alone, Sam had slept for a long while. There were no clocks in the house and nothing but the rise and fall of the sun to help him tell time but he knew instinctually that he’d sleep more than he normally did. It wasn’t a surprise really, he’d been exhausted physically and emotionally after being sold to a monster by his father. Once he’d woken, Sam had cautiously wandered out of the room in search of food. Loki had said there would be food in the kitchen and Sam could help himself. He knew from his father’s training that he needed to eat and keep his strength up if he was going to protect himself. He wasn’t sure he'd be able to do anything against Loki, in fact the god had told him that he wouldn’t be able to do anything against him. However, that didn’t mean he was going to take abuse laying down either.
He found some fruit, protein bars, juice, and bottled water in the fridge. There was plenty of other stuff as well but Sam wasn’t sure he’d be able to eat anything heavier at the moment. He’d never been good at eating when stressed. His appetite usually left at least and worst case he became actually nauseous. With his small breakfast in hand he scurried back to his room and curled up in his corner of the floor. He forced himself to eat the protein bar and drink the water. With that done he’d felt somewhat better. He tossed his trash and decided to shower. It was the best shower he’d ever had and Sam tried not to be grateful to this monster for giving him such a luxury. After his shower was more sleep and then another protein bar. Several days passed this way and Sam wondered if he’d been put in his cage and forgotten by the god. At least that was until now. The god offered him a small smile and Sam attempted to return it. There was no point in pissing off his owner by not being polite.
“What are you doing on the floor, kiddo?” Sam blinked at the god in confusion. He’d been told to stay off the furniture. Where else was he supposed to be?
“S-sorry, sir. You said to s-stay off the furniture.” Loki scratched the back of his neck with a chuckle.
“Well, yeah. Okay, that’s on me. I should’ve been more clear. This is your room, Sam. You are allowed to use everything in this room and the bathroom. The furniture room is for the rest of the house.” Sam nodded in acceptance, but the god sighed. “We need to start on your training. Things will make more sense then. Come on.” Loki stood and waved for Sam to follow him out the door. He did as he was told and as they entered the living room, Loki plopped down in an armchair. “Kneel at my feet, Sam.” He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to kneel next to Loki but what choice did he have? He shuffled forward and clumsily dropped to his knees. Loki sighed with a small shake of his head. “We will have to work on that.” Sam glanced up at Loki, knowing he needed to be paying attention but finding it hard to keep his tears at bay. “All of the rules and training, it may seem stupid, but I’m doing these things to keep you safe. The people and beings we will be around will be expecting these things from you and will not hesitate to punish you for failing to follow through with what is expected of a slave.” Sam shuddered at the idea of what a god would do to punish someone. He didn’t want to find out.
“I-I understand.” Loki nodded.
“Good. Now, first rule is this, do not speak unless spoken to. If there is an emergency, you pray to me and I will hear it without you breaking the rules. Got it?” Sam nodded, that one would be hard. Sam had always been talkative and tended to ask too many questions, but he was sure he could learn. “Second rule, do not make eye contact unless told to.” Sam nodded once again and immediately looked away. “Look at me, Sam. It’s okay right now.” He glanced back up at Loki and the god gave him a soft smile. “You will address me as ‘master’ or ‘sir.’ In private ‘sir’ is fine, but in public ‘master’ is required. You are not allowed on any furniture except your designated space. If we are in public, you will stay with me unless directed otherwise. If I sit, you kneel at my feet. If I stand you stay behind me and to the side.” So far the rules were all pretty simple. Nothing that he hadn’t expected honestly. “Now, for what is expected of you.” Sam gulped and looked away with a faint blush. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was expected of him. The past few days all of the worst ideas had flowed through his mind. He still didn’t really know what Loki wanted from him and he wasn’t sure he was ready to know. “I don’t need a maid and sex slaves aren’t really my thing. All I expect from you is that you do exactly as I say without question.” He let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding and tried to offer a small smile. That had never really been his strong point. He questioned everything. It was in his nature to want information and to learn everything he could.
“Y-yes, sir.” Loki reached down and ran a hand through his hair. It was oddly gentle and soothing. He tried not to be too comforted by the touch.
“Good boy. Most would label you as a pet. As demeaning as that may be, it is the most accurate description. Nobody can know who you are. From now on, you are no longer Sam Winchester. You are Sámr, slave to Loki.” A silent tear slid down his face at the loss of his own name. At least he would be able to keep something of similarity. ‘Samr’ was close enough to ‘Sam.’ However, even mentally he couldn’t seem to give it the same inflection as Loki did. “Eventually, I will take you with me on jobs and you will be able to help me. I don’t want to rid you of your personally entirely. I still want you to be able to blend in with humans. Once you have the whole slave-thing down we will loosen the rules and you will only be required to follow them when around other pagans.” Sam glanced up with something like hope shining through his eyes. Loki wasn’t going to make Sam a mindless drone and he wasn’t going to use him for sex. It was better than he could have ever hoped for.
“Thank you, sir.”
“We will spend some time getting you used to this before going anywhere. Don’t worry. We still need to work on your training. First thing, kneeling. You gotta be able to kneel gracefully without being a distraction. Slaves are not meant to be seen or heard. You will be seen more than others due to essentially being a pet and being by my side. That means you need to know how to move as unobtrusively as possible.” Sam nodded, that made sense really. He didn’t want any more attention on him than necessary. “Alright. Up.” Sam rose to his feet as gracefully as possible. It wasn’t perfect but it was better than how he had kneeled. “Kneel.” Sam slunk down to his knees in front of the god. “Good. Better.” Loki once again ran a hand through Sam’s hair. “Again. Up.” Sam once again rose to his feet, even better than the last time. “Kneel.” This time Sam slowly lowered himself to his knees. “Getting there, kiddo.” Loki stood and Sam made to stand, but a wave of the god’s hand had him settling back on his knees. “Good boy.” Loki praised with another gentle touch to his hair. “Up.” Sam stood and this time carefully made his way behind the god and to his left. “Good. You’re learning quickly.” They practiced this several times as well until the god was satisfied with Sam’s performance. Next, they practiced walking. Sam wasn’t sure he’d ever considered needing to practice walking next to someone, but he did. The spacing, expecting when Loki would stop or pause, when he would turn. It took thought and coordination. Loki paused several times to adjust Sam’s posture. Hands behind his back, shoulders straight, head slightly bowed. By the time they were done, Sam was exhausted and hungry again.
“Good job, Samr. Grab a protein bar and some water and then come back. There is one last thing I would like to discuss with you.” Sam scurried off with a quick ‘yessir’ and returned to kneeling next to the god. It was getting easier as the day went on. He ate the bar and drank some of the water as the god sat, gently petting him on the head. Loki seemed lost in thought and Sam didn’t want to interrupt the small amount of peace he’d been given. “Sam.” Loki called and he looked up only to be met with troubled golden eyes that seemed to see far too much. “I want to try to remove the demon blood from your body.”
~~~
Gabriel had thought the first day of training had gone spectacularly. The kid was smart and followed instructions well. It was still hard to look at the boy with how much he resembled Lucifer but he knew he would have to get over it. Not surprisingly, the kid responded well to positive reinforcement and gentle words of encouragement. It seemed he wasn’t the rebellious, angry child that John had seen, but instead was seeking understanding, approval, and safety. Gabriel sighed internally. Humans could be so stupid sometimes. His next goal was to remove the demon blood from Sam. If he could manage that without the kid imploding then he would be able to keep the kid off everyone’s radars much easier. Nobody would expect this Sam to be ‘Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood’ if there was no demon blood to be found. Of course, there were risks. The blood had been introduced to the child when he was still developing and it was always possible that his body would not be able to survive without it.
He hadn’t really wanted to rename the kid, it was a lot to take away from someone, a name, and Gabriel knew that personally. Unfortunately, he couldn’t very well admit that he had Sam Winchester on a leash and not expect people to notice or come after them. At this point, the apocalypse was off the table, but that didn’t mean the angels wouldn’t be out for revenge. He could still hear Michael and Raphael screaming in his mind through the Host about the loss of the final seal. Michael was dispatching angels left and right to earth in an attempt to figure out who had killed Lillith and why she had been on earth in the first place. Gariel just hoped that his false trail was enough.
The name Gabriel had chosen for Sam was almost perfect. Sámr was close enough to ‘Sam’ that the kid wouldn’t lose everything about his name and could be shortened to ‘Sam’ easily. The name itself also meant ‘blackish’ or ‘swarthy’ in old Norse. If he couldn’t get the demon blood out, the name would make sense to the pagans. Sure ‘swarthy’ usually referred to skin tone, but hey, most humans didn’t have the senses that Gabriel and his friends did. Anyone in the supernatural world would get it. If he did get the demon blood out, the name could be ironic. Gabriel was a trickster after all. But also, many would be able to sense the darkness that clung to the child. Even without the taint of demonic hemoglobin, the child had been touched by something dark. Their part of the world’s population would probably still be able to sense that even with angelic cleansing.
“Sam.” Gabriel called as he pulled himself from his internal musings. Sam looked up at him and seemed to notice the concern written all over his face. “I want to try to remove the demon blood from your body.” The kids expression shifted into something that looked a whole lot like hope and it only barely managed not to break Gabriel’s heart. This poor child didn’t want to be evil. He wanted to be good and pure and a child. His grace ached for the boy who was burdened with so much before he was able to understand it. Gabriel thought back to the memories he’d been sent of a man with the same hazel eyes looking to him with something crossed between desperation and hope who still only wanted to be good despite the atrocities he’d caused.
“You- you can do that?” Sam asked cautiously and Gabriel winced. He would try.
“I would like to try. It may not work.” The kid nodded eagerly turning his full attention towards the archangel in disguise.
“Please. What do I need to do? I’ll do anything. Please.” The boy was bordering on begging and Gabriel’s grace cried out once again in sympathy for the child.
“Come here and lay down on the couch. One time only.” Sam nodded and rushed to do as instructed. “Alright. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. This may hurt a bit.” Sam closed his eyes, inhaling deeply and slowly. Gabriel pressed one hand to the boy’s forehead and another to his chest, right over his heart. He slowly pressed his grace into Sam’s small body, seeking out each and every trace of demon blood and sulfur. The body arched under him and he could hear Sam screaming but he couldn’t let him be distracted. This was a very delicate thing, eliminating only the blood cells necessary. It took far too long and he was exhausted by the time he finished. The screaming eventually died down and the kid fell into unconsciousness from the pain. It would probably be better that way and maybe he should have thought to put Sam into a deep sleep before starting but he hadn’t and now he had to deal with the consequences. The demon blood was gone completely so now all he had to do was sit and hope that Sam’s body stabilized.
~~
His body was on fire. He’d laid down on the couch just like Loki had instructed and took a deep breath just like Dean had taught him. He couldn’t imagine it being pure. Sure, he hadn’t known about the demon blood for that long, but he’d always known something was wrong with him. There was darkness, an anger, that filled him for as long as he knew. Once the god had touched him, he felt a warmth spreading through his body that quickly turned to flames. It felt like someone had poured acid into his bloodstream and he could almost feel the boiling of his blood as it was cleansed. He tried to stay still and be as quiet as possible, but it was a pointless task. He could hear himself screaming and feel his body writhing, but he felt somewhat detached as all he could feel was pain, pain, pain. It seemed to go on for an eternity before the agony receded and he felt he could catch his breath. Before his lungs inflated for a second time, his mind sank into nothingness as oblivion took over.
~~
Something was wrong. Gabriel had scooped the boy up once he passed out and carried him carefully towards his bedroom. He carefully placed Sam in the bed and pulled the covers up around him. He snapped a chair next to the bed and dutifully kept watch over his charge. That had been hours ago, and Sam didn’t seem any closer to waking. He wasn’t sleeping peacefully though. Shortly after falling unconscious, the child began tossing and wiggling, muttering in his sleep. That was concern enough. Then he began running a fever. Gabriel had tried to keep Sam cool but despite his best efforts, the child’s temperature continued to climb. He couldn’t have known what would happen if he removed the demon blood from the kid. This really hadn’t ever been done before.
Gabriel placed a gentle hand on the boy’s forehead and winced at the heat radiating from his skin. He did a quick scan of Sam’s current state. Fever was 107 degrees Fahrenheit and his body was struggling to function properly. Several organs were shutting down. Shit. Gabriel pushed his grace into the child once more, repairing the damage to his small body. It was hard to see how this tiny child would one day grow into the mountain of a man he’d seen in future him’s memories. It wasn’t the first time that he had healed the child completely. He kept hoping that it would eventually take, but Gabriel was growing more and more concerned the longer this went on. He’d been worried that Sam’s body wouldn’t know how to function without the demon blood and it seemed that his immune system was freaking out now that something so drastic had changed. It also seemed that his immune system was actively trying to fight off Gabriel’s grace each time he healed the boy. It was odd. He’d never seen a human body reject grace this way. If it didn’t work this time… well Gabriel was trying not to think about it.
He sat back in his chair with a huff, taking up his watch once more. Sam was calm once again, resting peacefully like he did each time Gabriel healed him. His hand went to his pocket and he tapped the small vial there. His backup plan was ready but he didn’t want to do it unless he had to. Unfortunately, this time it didn’t take nearly as long for Sam’s body to begin reacting. His fever spiked drastically and the rhythm of his heart was irregular. Sam was dying. Gabriel had no other choice. Time for Plan B.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the vial of repulsive red liquid. He’d been planning this since he took the boy and knew it would be a possibility that it wouldn’t work. Luckily, he’d thought ahead and took a vial of Azazel’s blood from the demon before killing him. He retrieved the syringe he’d also brought with him and prepared to inject demon blood back into Sam’s body. It was a lot of blood. Probably far more than Azazel had given him to begin with, but desperate times and all that. He’d seen humans do this with adrenaline when a human’s heart stopped and hoped this was the right course of action. He climbed atop the child and then stabbed the needle directly into Sam’s heart. He pushed the plunger down and held the breath he didn’t need. He hoped that injecting the demon blood directly into Sam’s heart would speed up the circulation of the poison. He waited, hand gently touching the boy’s neck to monitor his vitals. The change was immediate. Sam’s heart began regulating and his temperature lowering.
Gabriel blew out a harsh breath. He hadn’t been able to remove the demon blood from the child and he knew Sam would be upset when he woke. He had no idea what effect this much demon blood would do to Sam’s body, but the child probably wouldn’t be the same. He watched as Sam’s body absorbed the power from the demon blood, his breath too quick and heart beating rapidly. Thankfully, he was much calmer now. His body relaxing into the normalcy of sulfur and hellfire. Gabriel sat back in his chair and waited. He seemed to be doing a lot of that today.
It took time for Sam’s body to go back to something like normal. Gabriel’s worries eased with each passing minute. It seemed like hours when Sam finally twitched and showed the first signs of waking. He leaned forward expectantly, the waiting shifting tones now. When Sam’s eyes fluttered open Gabriel smiled.
“Hey kiddo.” Sam’s head rolled to the side and Gabriel had to lock his body down not to flinch. The kids eyes were solid black.
“Di’ itwor?” Sam slurred as he blinked rapidly. Gabriel couldn’t be sure if it was because he’d been through so much or because he could feel something was different with his eyes. Gabriel smiled sadly.
“No, Sam. It didn’t work.” Sam blinked again and his hazel eyes returned as they welled with tears.
“Wha’ appen?” Gabriel sighed. He didn’t want to tell Sam this but he also wasn’t willing to lie.
“I got the demon blood out but your body couldn’t handle it. You were dying so I had to put it back in.” Sam squeezed his eyes shut but seemed to be trying to steel himself.
“Why’s…” He trailed off and licked his lips. Gabriel should probably get him some water. “Why’s m’chest hur?” He was still slurring and his voice was rough from all the screaming, but he seemed to be getting stronger.
“I had to inject the replacement demon blood directly into your heart.” Sam nodded sadly as he took a few breaths.
“’Kay.” Gabriel snapped a bottle of water into his hand and gently pressed it to the boys lips. Sam drank it gratefully. “Thanks.” His voice sounded better and his color was rapidly returning to normal.
“Get some sleep, kiddo. You still need some rest.” With that, Gabriel left the room and allowed Sam to rest without someone staring at him.
~~
When Sam woke, he felt… odd. There had been a weird pressure behind his eyes at times and it seemed like sometimes he could see things he hadn’t been able to before. He felt good. Better than he had in a long time. He was a little thirsty and felt like he could eat a horse whole, but otherwise he felt great. He felt energized and healthy and he couldn’t imagine not feeling this good again. Maybe he’d needed more sleep than he thought. He did feel gross though. Like waking up the morning after getting over the flu. Sam had only had the flu once but he remembered the icky feeling of sweaty clothes and greasy skin well. Sam showered and went through his usual morning routine.
He cautiously exited his bedroom to find Loki in the kitchen. The god seemed to be making breakfast so Sam stood to the side silently, not wanting to interrupt. Loki noticed him though and spun around to smile at him.
“Hey, Sam! Breakfast will be ready soon. We can work on training you on proper protocol for you eating at parties.” Sam nodded. He wasn’t sure what that meant really but he didn’t have much choice. Loki made two plates of food and then sat himself at the table. He pointed to the floor next to his chair where a pillow was sitting. Sam slowly kneeled on the pillow and waited for his next instructions. “Alright, now in a formal setting you will kneel with your hands behind your back. Informal settings you will kneel but you can rest your hands in your lap. At home you can sit on the pillow however.” Sam nodded and adjusted himself until he was sitting on his butt with his legs crossed. Loki began eating and Sam wondered what he was supposed to be doing. Eventually a small piece of bacon was held in front of his face. Sam went to reach for it with his hands but Loki batted them away. “Unless otherwise specified, you will eat from my hand Sam. This is one aspect of pets that isn’t really optional.” Sam awkwardly leaned forward and took the bacon with his mouth. He wasn’t a fan of being handfed. He never really enjoyed it when he was sick and Dean tried to help him eat and this seemed even worse. Sam tried to tell himself that it wasn’t weakness it was survival. He was a pet now. Loki’s pet monster. He needed to stop thinking of himself as a human. It became easier. Each time food was in front of his face, Sam leaned forward to eat it. He’d been afraid that he wouldn’t be allowed to eat much but Loki fed him more than Sam would have eaten on his own. Loki had handed him some orange juice and Sam sipped it every so often.
“Thank you, master.” Sam whispered once breakfast was done and he received a gentle pat on the head.
“Good boy, Sam. I didn’t even have give you that instruction.” Sam smiled at the praise but for some reason he was still thirsty and it only seemed to get worse.
“May I have some water?”
“Of course, Sam. You know where it is.” Sam grabbed a bottle from the fridge and drank it down quickly. Nothing. He was still thirsty. After four bottles he gave up and excused himself to the bathroom.
It was evening before he decided something was seriously wrong with him. His thirst only grew as the day went on. It wasn’t that bad. He wasn’t seriously parched, but it was annoying. Nothing worked. He tried water and juice but he couldn’t get rid of the nagging feeling of thirst that settled in the back of his throat. He locked himself in his bathroom as he tried to convince himself that he wasn’t going crazy. He was stressed though. He knew something drastic had changed in him since he woke up. He didn’t know what exactly and Loki had been a little vague on the details. As his anxiety picked up, the pressure in his eyes reappeared. Something was wrong with him. He looked up into the mirror trying to see what was wrong with his eyes and froze. This was worse than he imagined. His eyes were solid black like a demon. His anxiety increased and before he knew it he was panicking. He tried to blink the black from his eyes but nothing worked. A crash beside him alerted him to another problem. Small items in the bathroom were now floating around the room.
He screamed.
It wasn’t fear. No, he wasn’t afraid. He was enraged. How dare Loki turn him into even more of a monster than he already was?! Sam ripped the door handle off the door as he tried to open it. It only made him angrier.
“Sam?” Loki was standing on the other side of the door now and soon it was swinging open.
“What did you do to me?!” Sam shouted and several of the floating objects crashed into the walls.
“Take a breath, Sam.” Loki replied calmly as he took a step forward. Sam complied. He didn’t want to make the god angry.
“What is wrong with me?” He finally asked once he felt he could do so without lunging at the god.
“When I had to replace the demon blood it had some effects I wasn’t expecting.”
“My eyes turn black.”
“Yes.” Loki said simply like it wasn’t a big deal. Like Sam wasn’t fundamentally different from before. Like he hadn’t just become what his family hunted. Sam’s chest was still heaving with the effort of controlling his rage.
“And things float.”
“Probably telekinesis. We can train you to control it.”
“Why am I thirsty all the time?” That seemed to stump the god. Loki cocked his head to the side and looked at Sam like he was crazy. “I’ve been thirsty all day. Not bad. Not a lot. It’s annoying though and nothing helps.” Loki seemed to be studying him like a particularly confusing lab experiment.
“I don’t know.” Loki stepped forward and tapped him on the head. “Hmm. There’s no dehydration or any issues with your body functioning.” The god looked at him again curiously. “Come with me.” Sam followed dutifully behind, hands clinched into fists at his sides. Loki came to a stop in front of a safe. It didn’t seem to be locked, but Sam could guess that the god would be the only one capable of opening it. Loki pulled out a vial of something red and Sam’s eyes locked onto it.
“W-what’s that?” He asked as he stumbled backwards a little.
“Demon blood.” Loki popped the top off of the vial and Sam’s nose filled with the sweetest smell he’d ever imagined. Iron and sulfur with a little of something else underneath. His mouth began watering much to Sam’s horror.
“Why is that what I want?”
“Interesting.” Loki hummed as he moved forward. “Try it. See if it helps.”
“No! I’m not a bloodsucking freak!” Sam tried to move further away from the god but was stopped in his tracks by unseen bonds.
“Sam. It’s possible your body needs more. Here.” He tried to resist. He really did, but the pull of the blood and the urging of the being in charge of his decisions was too much. He took the vial and slowly raised it to his lips. There wasn’t much left in the small bottle but something told him it would be enough. The minute the blood hit his tongue he closed his eyes in bliss, tossing it back like he’d seen his dad do shots. He gulped down the vicious red liquid but couldn’t hold back the moan. The thirst immediately dissipated, and it felt like every cell in his body came alive. He closed his eyes and relished the waves of euphoria crashing over his soul. Once he had calmed down he looked at the vial in shock. It was blood. Demon blood. And he was drinking it. Savoring it. What the hell was wrong with him? Shame washed over him. He really was a monster. He threw the vial as hard as he could and it shattered on the wall. He was a demon vampire. He was the worst thing in existence now. He was… he was…
He hadn’t been. He’d been semi-normal before Loki had tried to remove the demon blood in the first place. This was all the gods fault. Rage filled him once again. This monster had taken him from his family and turned him into a slave. This monster had been nice to him and tried to manipulate him into compliance. This monster had turned him into even more of a monster than he had been. It was all Loki’s fault. The pressure in his eyes was back and he knew they were black now.
“You did this to me.” Sam was surprised at how cold his voice sounded. “It’s all your fault!” He shouted and instinctively Sam raised his hand to use his telekinesis. He began flinging items at the god as quickly as he could pick them up.
“Sam! Stop!”
“No!” He screamed and pushed all of his focus onto attacking Loki. The god looked concerned but did nothing to retaliate.
“Sam. If you don’t stop attacking me I will have to punish you.”
“Fuck you!” He shouted back as he flung a vase directly at Loki’s head.
“Alright that’s it!” Loki shouted and his eyes began to glow. The god snapped and suddenly Sam crumpled to the floor. He could barely move and it felt like he was raising his head through molasses. He tried to use his telekinesis again but it wouldn’t work. He tried to move his arms but found they were cuffed in front of him and his ankles cuffed together. He looked down and noticed the intricate engravings on the cuffs. Some symbols Sam had seen others he hadn’t. Warding. Loki snapped again and Sam found himself moved. He was in a cage. He looked around. It looked like a large dog kennel. His hands were still cuffed but he could move his legs again. There was no door to the kennel. He screamed. The rage taking over once again. How dare this bastard lock him away like a dog. Loki moved forward and crouched down in front of the cage.
“I didn’t want to do this but your behavior was unacceptable. I know you’re upset. I know you are angry but I can’t let this go without consequences. You will stay here until I decide to let you out.” The gods eyes were still glowing with anger and his breathing harsh. When Loki disappeared without fixing the chaos of the living room Sam knew he’d fucked up.
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