Title: Detroit
Author: [livejournal.com profile] sophie_448
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: implied Sam/Dean
Word Count: 405
Warnings: Spoilers for 5x04, Heavy angst
Summary: Sam didn't die in Detroit. He said yes.
Notes: Lightning fast beta by [livejournal.com profile] waterofthemoon ♥♥♥

In 2012, Dean finally changes his cell number.

The number you have dialed is no longer in service.

Sam cuts off the call with a shaking hand. Dean hasn't picked up in three years, probably erased Sam's hundreds—thousands—of messages without listening to them, but until now, Sam had thought maybe—well. It doesn't matter what Sam thought. He drops his phone on the end table. He's too tired and defeated to even summon up the energy to be angry, to make the grand gesture and throw it across the room. He shucks off his jeans and lies down on the hard mattress. The air in the room is cold, but he doesn't bother to get up and adjust the thermostat. He's in Detroit, for all that it matters.

When Sam wakes up, Dean is there. That's how he knows he's not awake.


"Sammy," says the thing wearing Dean's face.

"Don't call me that," Sam says out of habit. He doesn't know why he still cares. He's seen far more of Lucifer than his brother these past few years. While Dean's been coldly silent and absent, Lucifer has courted Sam slowly, almost lovingly.

"He's never coming back, you know," Lucifer says, Dean's eyes full of pity. It's an expression Sam has never seen on Dean's face. It reminds him, as if he needed it, that this isn't his brother.

Sam shrugs. "I know."

"Sam." Lucifer steps forward, his tone softly admonishing. "Why are you doing this to yourself? You don't have to be alone and running scared." He lifts Dean's hand and strokes Sam's cheek. "We could be together forever."

Sam leans into the touch. He can't help it. He's so tired. Tired of everything. Of being alone, of running, of the weight of the world on his shoulders, of this whole fucking apocalypse that's dragged on far too long. He's just tired.

"Say yes, Sam."

Every time before this, Sam's answered with a resounding never, because every time before this he's still had a tiny sliver of hope. But that's gone now. Dean's never coming back. After all, Lucifer doesn't lie.

Sam closes his eyes, breathes in, feels how every cell in his body belongs to just him. Then he opens his eyes and says, "Yes."

Lucifer kisses him with Dean's lips, and Sam is vaguely aware of a blinding white light surrounding them.

And then Sam Winchester is no more.

Lucifer smiles.

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