AN: Co-written with Clowns or Midgets.

Disclaimer: We own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

Stairway to Heaven

"Sam, run!" Dean yells as he pushes Sam in front of him. "Hurry!"

The hellhounds cry out in the night, howling and baying in the distance. Sam can almost feel the energy of them crackling in the night air. The pounding beats of paws grow closer, louder, and Dean and Sam push themselves faster. Sam's legs are beginning to tremble as they duck into an alleyway.

Dean finds an old green door recessed into the brickwork of the alley wall. He shoves it with his shoulder and the old lock gives way. "This way, Sammy."

Sam looks back over his shoulder, as he can hear the hounds close, too close. They are huffing and snarling as they close the distance between them. Sam is almost hypnotized by the sound. He thinks back to his dream the night before, to Lucifer. Lucifer had said that he would hunt them, hunt Dean, until Sam gave himself up. This must have been what he meant. The devil had told him all he had to do was say yes, or at the least, come with him. Give him a chance to explain his side of things. He never thought the Devil would send hellhounds after him.

Dean grabs a fistful of Sam's jacket and yanks him towards the door. "Let's go," he says as he shoves Sam inside.

The hallway they find themselves in smells of urine and garbage. There is a narrow staircase and Dean grabs Sam, dragging him up it.

The hounds claw and howl at the door, begging for entrance. The lock doesn't hold them long, though. As soon as they begin to throw their weight at it, Sam knows it's over.

Just as Dean drags Sam around the corner at the top of the stairs, there is a bang and the sound of heavy paws slamming into the floor.

"Shit, run, Sammy!" Dean shoves Sam forward and turns to face the oncoming hounds. With a rush of air, Dean is thrown back into the wall and claw marks appear on his chest. It's too familiar for Sam and thinks back to what it was like to see Dean get dragged to hell. He doesn't want to put his brother through it again. He has to make the deal.

"Lucifer!" Sam cries as he runs and grabs at the invisible hound, cutting his arms and side in the process. Blood is everywhere, Dean and Sam's mixed together. "Call them off and I'll go with you!"

Using all his strength, Sam works his way between Dean and the hellhound. His hands are slippery with blood and he can feel the teeth cutting and slicing his flesh. He begins to wonder if Lucifer is in fact just going to leave them both to die.

"Lucifer!"

Suddenly, the hounds whine and fall back. They cry out like they're in pain, and Sam wonders if they are.

"What…?" Dean says, panting. "Sam?"

Sam looks at Dean apologetically and then hangs his head. "I'm sorry."

Dean pushes himself off the wall, and holding his bleeding side, he walks over to Sam. "What's going on, Sam?"

"I'm sorry, Dean, but I have to do this." Sam draws backs a bloody fist and lands a blow to Dean's jaw, sending him tumbling back to the floor.

Sam walks out of the building and heads to the street. He goes to the car and grabs his duffel. With a hung head, he walks out to the alleyway and falls to his knees, praying to the one angel that they all fear, that they all knew could end it all. He prays to Lucifer.

With sweaty, bloody hands, he waits, the damp ground soaking through his jeans. Blood drips down his fingertips and onto the cold damp ground.

There is a faint fluttering of wings, and then he knows he's not alone. The thought sends a shiver down his spine. For a moment, he regrets what he's doing. Maybe he should find another way, but then he remembers what it was like to see Dean being torn to pieces by the hellhounds, and he sets his jaw. No matter what Lucifer does to him, he won't say yes. He can't.

Lucifer approaches him slowly, head tilted to the side. "You're hurt," the angel says solemnly, like the knowledge pained him.

Sam swallows and looks up at him. "Only because of you."

"Believe me, Sam, I didn't want you injured. You're my vessel, my other half. Having you hurt doesn't serve my purpose."

Sam looks up at him with contempt. "If I go with you, you promise to keep Dean safe?"

The devil is calm and cool, and it makes Sam cringe. "Of course. I won't let a demon so much as touch a hair on his head."

Sam nods. He is doing this for Dean and no one else. "So are we going or what?" Sam says quietly. He doesn't want to play Lucifer's games. He doesn't want to talk to the fallen angel.

Lucifer nods. He reaches out and touches Sam's shoulder and a moment later they are gone.

When they reappear, they're in what looks like a rundown motel.

"Home sweet home, Sammy," Lucifer chimes.

Sam clutches a hand to the wounds on his side. He's still kneeling. "Where are we?"

"Detroit."

Sam nods and looks around. The room is shabby and worn. There are two beds, both still made. A small fridge hums in the corner, struggling on its last legs. The curtains are drawn, and a dim lamp lights the corner of the room.

Sam is beginning to feel dizzy from the blood loss. He leans down and presses a hand to the threadbare carpet. The room spins a little.

Lucifer takes a step forward and looks at him quizzically, like he's not really sure what he's meant to say. "You're in pain."

Sam tosses him a bitch face. "Yes, Lucifer. I'm in pain. What gave it away?"

Lucifer kneels down in front of him, slowly extending a hand.

Sam cringes back. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Healing you," the devil says plainly.

"Maybe I don't want to be healed."

Lucifer sighs and folds his hands together. "I don't want you to suffer."

Sam studies the fallen angel. He looks genuine in his concern for Sam, and it unnerves Sam a little. The devil should never look so caring.

"I don't need your help," Sam says defiantly and pushes himself up to stand. He winces in pain as the claw marks pull. He can feel a fresh trickle of blood rolling down his side.

He presses his hand back to his side and feels the blood spill out over his hand. He wavers on his feet and he can see Lucifer out of the corner of his eye, watching him. Sam's nearly bled out enough times to know when he was about to cross the fickle line of bad and really bad, and he was about to cross that line.

Taking a shaky step, he begins to walk toward the bed. Just as he reaches the foot of the bed, he wavers. The room spins and he falls forward in a heap. The last thing he hears is the blood rushing in his ears and Lucifer whispering his name.