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Bear the Light
By : roguebitch
Category: Supernatural > General
Views: 909 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural and make no money from this story. - Chapter List
- 1
A/N: Should be read before Bare the Light.
*****
“Dean,” Sam says, “I’m sorry.”
His grip on his brother’s shoulder must be making the seams of the bone creak, but he can’t hear it or feel it above the roaring sound of the spiral opening on the floor. He and Dean stare as it irises open, wider and wider until light geysers up out of it, a column of flame and heat. Pressure slams Sam back and down into the floor. He greys out for a second, unable to make sense of all the input.
When Sam comes to, it is silent. He scrambles to his knees, but the unbearable pressure in the room keeps him from trying to stand up or raise his head. His eyes search the floor frantically, but he can’t see Dean anywhere.
“Sam,” a voice murmurs, androgynous and soothing, “look at me.”
Sam mutely shakes his head, tears blotting the fine layer of dust on the floor.
“Sam.” The voice is more commanding now. “Look. At. Me.”
Sam’s head ratchets up, his neck screeching like a rusty bicycle chain, and he looks.
He can’t look directly at Lucifer. It’s like trying to see heat haze. Sam drops his head again, slitting his eyes and peering out of his peripheral vision.
Lucifer resembles a column of lava, flames ever flowing and changing, dripping down and up, pulsating and ceaseless. It defies logic and Sam slams his eyes shut before the intensity burns out his retinas.
“Good.” The voice is approving. “Now see.”
Light pours into Sam, prying open his unwilling eyelids, surging into his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. He bows back on his knees, arms flailing, as the light sends viny tendrils all along his nerve paths and blood vessels.
Sam sees.
He sees himself, all his conflicts and motivations, hurts and actions. He is made to gaze unblinkingly upon himself, and he is embarrassed and ashamed.
But Sam is not done seeing. He sees Dean, torturer and tortured, in his grief, in his quest, stubbornly holding true to his moral compass. He sees himself through Dean, the child he was and the baffling man he has become. He sees the unswerving loyalty and the complicated love Dean holds.
Sam sees their father and the relentless pain that drove him. He sees the people they’ve saved, sees into them, and into their relationships with other people, zooming out and zooming out until a billion different perspectives and perceptions beat at him. He can’t contain them all, can’t wrap his mind around such a multitude, and gasps out, “Please.”
He is abruptly emptied and finds himself on the floor of the crypt, leaning on one hand, gasping and trembling and soaked with sweat.
“Yours is an ignorant and self-centered species,” Lucifer says with contempt. “I could never understand why my Father loved you so. But he has neglected you for so long it is no wonder you have all fallen into your old habits. This will be rectified. Forthwith.”
Sam quails on the floor, eyes closed, the pressure of Lucifer’s presence holding him down like a giant hand. Suddenly, his ears pop and he feels it recede like a tide running out. He hears a footstep crunch in the rubble. He hears the sound of wings.
“Look at me, Sam.”
Sam does. Lucifer is now a beautiful androgynous youth, dressed in a white tuxedo. There are wings shadowed on the wall behind Lucifer.
“I have to go. But I wanted to thank you, Sam, for setting me free.”
“I wish I could say you’re welcome,” Sam grinds out, finding a tiny grain of defiance underneath the awestruck fear.
Lucifer smiles slightly.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m here and I have work to do.” Lucifer pivots on one heel and then turns back, looking thoughtful. “By the way, where is your brother?”
Sam looks around wildly, and in that time, Lucifer departs without notice.
Sam scrambles to his feet and runs to the crypt doors, pounding his fists on them.
“Dean. Dean! DEAN!”- 1
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