After Lucifer

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The next few days get progressively more difficult. I barely leave my room, only opening the door to let Cas in with some coffee to keep me awake. If I never had to sleep again, I would be so glad. He tells me that the boys want to see me, and they're prepared for anything I might say or do to them, but I'm still just not sure that I can control myself. I don't really know what I can trust.

On the third day, I realize that I haven't taken a shower or even changed my clothes. When everyone is asleep, I sneak out of the room and into the bathroom, clothes in hand. I take a really long, yet quiet, shower, and then I put my hair in a ponytail while it's still wet. Before I put my new clothes on, I look at my mangled figure in the mirror. There are scars and scabs virtually everywhere on my body. Lucifer and the demons cut into my arms, stomach, legs, etc. Basically, they would slice me anywhere that could be covered by clothes.

Shaking my head to clear my mind of the memories, I put on a tight, long-sleeved shirt and some pajama pants. I've got this extreme paranoia now, and I feel like something could go wrong at any moment. To be honest, I feel like Lucifer isn't in his cage, and that he's coming back for me. The worst part? I don't know if I would go back with him or stay here and fight alongside my brothers.

When I get back to my room, Cas is there, as usual.

"Hello, Lucy," Cas says.

"Before you ask again, no, I don't want to talk about anything that happened," I sigh. I knew he'd ask if I didn't already answer; he's asked this question every morning and every night so far.

"Fine," Cas says, then changing the subject, "I will not be here to keep you awake tonight because I must go talk to Hannah about what to do with some of Lucifer's remaining right-hand demons. They scattered after Lucifer was locked in the cage, but we need to get rid of them."

Due to my conflicting trust and drug-fogged memory, all I can tell him is, "Be safe, Cas. Hannah, too."

"You have my word," Cas nods. I take my usual position on the bed, grabbing a good book to read. I finished one this morning, so I better start this new one. After Cas walks out of the room and then flutters his feathery self somewhere else, I begin to read my book. Slowly, I can feel myself start to get tired, but I am determined to keep my eyes open until Cas gets back to help me stay up.

I wake up suddenly, and Sam is right in front of me. I start to push him away - I don't want to hurt him - but that's when I notice my sleeves sticking to my arms. There is blood on them, and that's when I realize why Sam and Dean are in the room.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks, his hands on my shoulders.

"Yeah, I think so...what happened?" I ask.

"We just came in here because we heard you screaming, and well, we found you like this," Dean answers.

"Lucy, why are you bleeding?" Sam coaxes, trying to figure this out.

Accepting defeat and admitting to my problems, I say, "I must have scratched my arms in my sleep and taken off my scabs."

"Scabs from what?" Dean asks.

"Lucifer's torture," I reply shortly. Both of the boys look a shade paler now, and very concerned.

"Here, you're gonna have to take the shirt off and put on something short-sleeved, because that's the only way we'll be able to treat this," Sam instructs, and I start to get up. "Wait," he says, "Dean and I will just step out of the room so you don't have to go anywhere."

While they wait patiently outside my door, I am forced to rip off my shirt quite literally, because the dried blood is sticking to my reopened wounds and the fibers of the shirt. How will they react when they see all the scars? The burns on my back? Putting on a tank top and bracing myself, I say, "You can come back in now."

Sam comes in first, followed by Dean. Both of their faces fall when they see me. I stand in front of them, watching their faces closely, so badly wanting to know what's running through their minds. Sam speaks first.

"How many times did he do this to you?" he asks.

"As many times as I said 'no'," I reply.

"We have to get Cas to fix this," Sam says to Dean.

"No! Please...please don't. I don't want him to see me like this," I plead.

"Are you really sure?" Dean asks me.

"Yeah. If I really need it, I can get Hannah to fix me," I lie.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna get the bandages and stuff," Dean tells us.

Sam and I haven't talked as much as we used to. I can't really think of anything to say, mostly because I can't remember when the last time we actually got to have a one-on-one conversation was. It was probably something related to a hunt, knowing the damn Winchesters, so I doubt it was of any significance.

"I'm sorry we didn't get you out," Sam says out of nowhere.

I ask, "Why couldn't you guys come save me?"

"We looked for you for months. Tried to make deals. Cas asked every angel he knew. Lucifer hid you too well and there was nothing we could do about it. I hated myself for it; it should have been easy to find you, and I can't even start to tell you how sorry we all are," Sam answers.

"You guys are stupid," I say, and Sam looks offended, but I'm not done, "Don't ever try to make deals for me. That's rule number one. Number two: don't ever hate yourself because you can't do something. It's not your fault, no matter how much guilt all of you feel. Lucifer made me think that you guys were just ignoring me and leaving me for dead, and I realize now how wrong he was. But, I'll still be mad about one thing."

"What thing is that?" Sam asks.

"I've gone four months without going out and having fun. After my scabs heal, you, Dean, and I need to go have some fun. Loosen up, and forget all this shit, okay?" I smirk.

"Deal," Sam smiles.

Dean then comes back in the room, and he tells me to go clean off my arms before he patches them up. The main problem points are my left forearm and my right shoulder, plus a few random spots on my arms. I'm patched up in no time, and after everything is placed, I put on a big hoodie to cover everything. Also, it's really freaking cozy.

I go to sleep feeling much better, but one thing is on my mind.

What about Cas?

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