I cant stop thinking about the bmol experimenting with Sam and thanks to @trials-era-sam confirming our hc with Sam's addiction (thank you Jared!!) i just had to write this-
"Names Sam. All we need are names." Toni repeats, tapping her pen against her stupid little notebook.
Even if Sam wanted to, he can't give her want she wants. He doesn't really know that many hunters to begin with, let alone all the hunters in the whole of the united states. Who does she think he is?
She sighs dramatically and puts both her pen and book down on the old table next to her, uncrossing her legs and standing up, taking a few steps closer to Sam.
"Fine." She muttered, "we'll just move onto the next phase, since you're choosing to be difficult."
She starts fishing around in her blazer pocket, in search for something, and Sam can tell she found what she was looking for when a small smile pulls against her lips and she slowly withdraws her hand out, holding what looks to be a small vial?
Sam tilts his head to try and get a better look at it. Is it another drug to induce hallucinations? A truth serum? Who knows what they've invented over across the Atlantic.
Toni scoffs at the confusion displayed on Sam's face, and holds out the vial for him to see, holding it up triumphantly as if she won a race or something.
The first thing he notices is how red it is. He stares for a few more seconds until he realizes, and he can practically feel all the air leaving his lungs.
They've been keeping tabs on him for a good 12 years, they know pretty much everything about him. He doesn't know why this didn't occur to him sooner.
"No." He practically hisses at her, his mind flooding with the pain of detox already. Although he doubts he will ever make it out of here, and hes kind of already given up trying to escape. Whats the point? Dean is dead, Cas will be fine without him. Lucifer is out there roaming free, theres nothing for him anymore.
He's completely content with these british people keeping him here.
But eventually he'll have to detox, he always does.
He can feel his heart starting to pick up pace.
The first detox was bad enough, but he can start to feel the panic raising at the thought of having to live through that now, what horrors would haunt him in his...less than stable state.
He doesn't know what he'd do if he has to see Lucifer or the cage again.
What atrocities would his mind conjure up this time?
He finds his mind rushing back to all the less than pleasant experiences in his life. How it felt to have an archangel inside of him. He thinks that’s why he didn’t realize Gadreel was in him for so long. In comparison to the searing pain of the literal devil in his body, some run of the mill angel was like a tick. Hardly worth his attention.
Toni clearing her throat snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up at her again, and couldn't hide the fact that his hands were shaking.
"Sam," she began "you have made less than ideal choices in your life." A pointed glance towards him. "But, that doesn't mean you still can't be utilised. We as men of letters firmly believe in sufficiency, and your way of...terminating demons is much faster than any excorsim that we have on hand. Don't you think?"
Sam thinks that his heart is going to give out with how fast it is pumping. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears. The year of shame and regret with Ruby and all his mistakes crashing down on him.
"Please." He pleads, looking up at this awful woman through his wet hair. "You don't know what you're doing." He tries to reason with her, but with that glint in her eye, he knows shes not listening to a word he's saying.
"Cmon now Sammy, you can't tell me that you don't miss it." She exclaims, a soft undertone to her voice, as if shes trying to be understanding towards him. Sam scoffs.
And hangs his head in defeat.
They've burnt him, shot him, cut him up and probably broken a few ribs if his pain is any indication. He has no doubt that they will hesitate to do this to him too.
Hes just glad Dean won't be here to watch him turn into a monster again.
Everything Dean told him during that year comes rushing back as he clamps his mouth shut tight. He knows that this will happen to him with or without his consent, but he won't let it happen without a fight.
After all, she isn't Lucifer, he doesn't have to lay down and let her do whatever she wants to him. Hes allowed to fight back. And for Deans sake, he will try.
Toni notices Sams jaw muscles working, and sighs like a disapproving mother whose toddler just won't listen to her.
She roughly grabs Sams face and lifts his head up, making him look up at her.
And although his face is rock hard with determination, pure fear is flashing in his eyes.
He doesn't want to go back to that. To that feeling of desperately needing more and more.
Hes fought so hard against his addiction for so long now. Why is this happening? Chuck must think his life is a joke to do this to him.
But, he keeps his mouth closed tight as Toni tuts and pinches his nose closed, staring down at him patiently.
He hopes he's strong enough to let himself pass out before his mouth inevitably opens to let in air. At least then he could say he tried. But he knows the human body, he knows that when survival insticts kick in, he won't be able to fight it.
But he closes his eyes and tries to stay calm as toni pinches his nose tighter and grows more annoyed.
He starts to count.
Hes gotten to fifty seconds when his lungs really start to hurt.
67. His head has started to spin.
89. His teeth hurt from how hard he's clenching them.
92. He can feel the presence of the vial hanging above him like a carrot on a string. Patiently waiting for his mouth to open like they both know it will.
107. There are spots dancing behind his eyelids. He knows his body will betray him soon.
He lets out a silent prayer at second 115. Begging for someone to help him.
He wonders if Lucifer can hear him.
121. He gasps.
Before he can even suck in some precious air, the vial is being shoved in his mouth, and the metallic taste of blood on his tounge is the only thing his senses can focus on.
Its okay. Dont panic. He just has to spit it out like he did before. No biggie.
He ignores the way his body yearns for it. To swallow it. He ignores how his muscles are remembering how powerful they used to feel. He ignores how his throat is trying to gulp it down, actively working against the only rational part of Sam's brain.
The smell is overwhelming. The taste practically irresistible.
He doesnt have to swallow it. He doesn't have to let her win. He doesn't.
He goes to spit it out. Toni sees. She acts quicker than Sam can even realise.
She's pinching his nose again and roughly keeping her other hand over his mouth. Making sure that he can't possibly spit it out and cutting off all access to air.
Meaning he'll need to swallow it to be able to gasp for air.
He looks up at her with tears in his eyes. His head starting to spin again from lack of oxygen. He shakes his head softly, once again begging her not to do this to him, even though he knows this grovelling will get him nowhere.
She looks down at him with no emotion in her eyes. Even the smile on her face has faded. She just seems a bit bothered now. As if Sams resistance is just a small inconvenience to her.
He'll have to swallow soon. She knows it. They both know it.
Eventually Sam finds his throat working against him and swallowing down the sweet sweet blood.
As it goes down, he gasps out and Toni removes her hand. A satisfied smile on her face.
Sam, on the other hand though, couldn't be more disgusted with himself.
He would start crying if there was any liquid left in his body. He can already feel it. Feel the power thruming through his veins. He can feel his body yearning for more already, protesting that it wasnt enough.
He starts to shake. Silently sob. He cannot believe that this is happening to him again. That he has to go through this again, and all for what? Because some british people want to study him to see how he works and then do who knows what with him?
He starts sweating. Even that tiny amount enough to bring back a pretty severe addiction.
Toni sits back down looking smug. "How do you feel, Sam?"
He glares at her, although how effective it is with his shaking chin and dried tear streaks on his cheeks, he doesn't know.
"Alright." Toni nods at him and starts to make her way back up the stairs.
Sam starts to freak out, but refuses to show it. Not at least until she leaves the basement.
Theyre leaving him here. For how long? Are they going to make him go through detox now? Study his symptoms? Wait for him to start begging them for some more? Maybe, if Sams lucky enough, it wont be that bad, since it was only one small vial.
But he can already feel it. The way his head feels like it's getting squashed between two rocks, the way his stomach is rolling like he's about to vomit, the way his limbs are shaking quite violently.
Sam is never lucky. And this is going to hit him hard.
He hopes it doesnt get so bad that he starts begging for more blood. He'd never forgive himself if he fell that far.
He wishes Dean were still alive.
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