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Dolls

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It had felt like his inside exploded and then set on fire, like he’d burned up from the inside. Yet after it was all over, after Lucifer was gone he’d somehow remained whole and alive. He’d never felt so empty when he woke up, he hardly felt anything at all.

The first thing he saw was Sam, leaning over him. It was a face he recognize all to well even though he didn’t even know him. The strangest feeling of familiarity. And somehow, for some reason... his first thought had been to wrap his hand around his neck, squeezing his airway shut and shoving him into the floor. But the fit of rage went as soon as he came and he became aware of his body.

He felt heavy, he could barely lift his own arms. He must have drifted in and out of consciousness because he could hear Sam speak to him but not his words. And Jack too. And when Sam threw his arm over his shoulder and helped him walk it only took three steps before he vomited. Or he would have, if there had been anything in his stomach. Instead he choked and coughed as if his insides had tried to turn themselves inside out.

He didn’t remember much after that, only a few other voices and some rushing footsteps. Next thing he knew he woke up in that dungeon, some complete strangers looking at him before Sam came and talked to him. Those days had seemed like some kind of strange dream, like he wasn’t fully conscious. He’d slept, he’d went to the toilet, he’d eaten, but nothing else. It had felt like he was just floating. His head not fully able to focus on anything, so he spent most of his time just sleeping.

Sam had been kind to him, maybe too kind. It all came back to him in little flashes but he remembered enough to know that... Lucifer hurt that man more than he’d hurt anyone else. It wasn’t that he remembered, not exactly but... there was this feeling, this feeling of «knowing» what he didn’t remember. The clearer his head became, the more he would remember, the more he would actually start to feel again.

He was terrified to find out just what he knew.

Yet Sam seemed insisted on treating him with such gentle kindness, he wasn’t a prisoner, despite the room he’d been placed in. It felt weird, awkward almost. The gentle giant wasn’t very good at hiding his emotions no matter how hard he tried. Sam was terrified of him. He didn’t remember much of what Lucifer had done to him but looking at Sam... it awoke emotions in him. Emotions he was pretty sure wasn’t his own.

Dark, twisted thoughts he tried to suppress and ignore. It terrified him. Whatever Sam had been to Lucifer, he was possessive, the kind of possessive obsession that... No, he didn’t want to dwell on it.

But it was hard to just ignore those thoughts and feeling whenever Sam got so close. Like now. Sam was helping him clean his wound against, close enough to touch but he seemed to take every precaution not to let his skin touch his. Only letting the cloth drag over his wound.

Anyone else could have done this. Sam could have gotten anyone else to help him. Nick wasn’t sure why he insisted on doing this himself, as the leader for whatever kind of group this was. Maybe he just felt like it was his responsibility to keep such a close eye on him, maybe it was something else, he couldn't tell.

«You know you don’t have to stay in here right?» Sam said once he was done, turning to face him with a sympathetic look. Nick didn’t know why it made him feel bad.

Sam didn’t want to play his captor, he knew hat. He wasn't placed here out of malice but out of caution. Nick didn’t know what it was but the strange satanic like symbol on the floor wasn’t for him. And this dungeon wasn’t really meant for him ether. He knew enough to know that... whatever place this was it was full of other people. He’ could hear them, rushing through the halls of this place day and night. He was far from the only concern on Sam’s mind.

«Thank you but, uh, I’m... I’m not all that eager to stretch my legs just yet.»

He’d only stepped outside the room to relieve himself, just a little after he woke up the door had been unlocked, he could go anywhere he wants if he wished. But he didn’t particularly want to. It was too disoriented, and there were things he was too afraid to face right now.

As much as he knew this isolation wasn’t good for him... he felt safe here. Besides, he knew what he had done, saying yes to Lucifer, being the devil’s vessels. He was sure the others knew too, maybe he was just too cowardly to face everyone.

He just needed time, time to think, to remember.