Bend the Bracket 15
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16
-- -- --
When Sam made it back to the motel it was a bit like walking into a crime scene someone had tried to tidy up, though they'd failed about halfway finished. To start with, everything smelled sweaty. Second, Cas was wearing one of Dean's T-shirts and nodding off on Dean's bed. Third, and perhaps the most disturbing and amusing, was the fact that Dean acted like nothing had happened to the point that it became more than obvious that it had, his fear of some sort of backlash flashing like a neon sign in his eyes. The most incriminating bit of evidence had to be one of two things: Castiel's coat draped across him like a blanket, or Dean's tender, dewy-eyed expression when the angel finally fell asleep.
"I thought angels didn't do that." Sam observed, and didn't even say a word when Dean seated himself on the edge of the same bed Cas was on.
His brother shrugged. "He was trying to fall when I found him. I don't think he wants to be an angel anymore." Dean's eyes shifted from Castiel to Sam and back again, and Sam recognized his possessive, defensive expression the whole time. "He just wants to be a baby in a trench coat, I guess."
"He'll learn, if that happens." Sam said, because there wasn't really anything else he could say without sounding coldhearted.
Dean nodded and didn't put his hand on Cas, though it was obvious that he thought about it.
With a sigh, Sam sat himself on the opposite bed. He hadn't decided how to tell Dean that Lucifer wanted them to stay put and he had no intention of bringing it up until necessity dictated he had to. He didn't think leaving was on his brother's mind at the moment, though. "You and Cas are... I mean, I don't want to intrude, but... it's not just a dream anymore, is it?"
Dean's expression might have been just the slightest bit guarded when he looked at Sam. "And?"
Sam shrugged. "And you can't call me gay, now. Not without hearing about how it takes one to know one."
Dean frowned. "You're still way geekier than I'll ever be."
"Right."
"And he has wings. Not to mention he's a bad-ass."
"Sure."
"And he's wearing a Metallica shirt. Name one girl you know of that's that cool. And alive."
Sam finally let himself crack a smile and shook his head, because it was too normal of a conversation. Maybe normal people would be more worried about a man and an angel getting together than any cultural rules they might be breaking based on gender. "Dean, you don't have to justify it to me. You're the one with the bond. Just... you don't have to be worried about it. I'm still your brother, you're still you, Cas is still Cas. Same rules apply as always." Which were simple rules. No sex on Sam's stuff, no sex with Sam's stuff, no sex when other things were more pressing, no taking time out of work for anything that would take more than an hour - Dean was pretty good with the base rules most of the time, unless Sam's laptop and self-service counted.
Dean's smile was as genuine as they came. "Thanks."
Sam didn't think he even really deserved the gratitude.
"You heard anything from Lucy recently?" Dean asked, and pushed himself off of the bed so he could move back to the chair, maybe because he was about as tired as Sam was - which was dead tired - and sitting on a mattress in the middle of the afternoon made napping a very attractive option.
"No." Sam didn't sound very convincing.
"Not even a little visit to say... I dunno... watch out for Apocalypse Two: Electric Boogaloo?"
Sam knew there was no reason to hide it, not when Dean would figure it out eventually. "Yeah, actually. He... dropped in," Sam glanced at Cas to be sure he was truly asleep before he went on. He hadn't had the chance to explain the whole situation to the angel and he didn't want to be surprised with having to. It would be easier if he had a speech prepared even if the majority of it went unused. "He needs a new vessel, to start, and demon blood, so it won't explode. Hell isn't exactly excited to have him back, either. He... he wants us to stick around for a couple of days, for some reason." Not to come knocking, because that was ridiculous.
Dean made a face like maybe that was good news before he opened his mouth and spoke the obvious. "So if he's lying, it's a trap."
"Pretty much."
"And if he's not, maybe you are gay."
"Dean."
Dean smiled and Sam's face fell. The older Winchester did not quite laugh, though it was in his eyes, under the surface, and it brimmed up in his voice like bubbles in a glass of champagne; delicate and pleasing. "Just saying, takes one to know one."
From the mattress, Cas shushed them and curled into Dean's pillow. Sam thought he likely wouldn't even remember doing it when he woke up.
"You want to wait here? See how it pans out?" Sam asked without thinking.
Dean did think about it, mulled it over, chewed it like a cow chews on cud. His mouth turned into a serious line, his eyes cold. "Your call. It's not my soul making love to the Devil's mojo."
"Great," Sam sighed and leaned back on his mattress, too tired to argue. "To start with, we take a day or two to recover. After that, we'll see what happens." His eyes closed of their own accord and he felt himself falling backward into the mattress, slipping away from reality. Realistically they both needed a trip to a doctor just to be sure they were both going to be alright, but he couldn't make himself get up just then, too transfixed by the darkness behind his eyes. Hell was there, he knew it, but that didn't mean it was going to rise up and pull him down into memories if he didn't think about it.
"I can agree with that." Dean mumbled, and the opposite bed creaked with his shifting weight, the springs protested. "Wake me up for dinner, yeah?"
Sam didn't even open his eyes to confirm that his brother and their shared guardian angel were curled up on the bed together, he just hummed his agreement and drifted off to sleep.
- - -
The following day it rained again, and the next two saw the temperature drop to ridiculous lows, ice and snow loomed in the future like ominous clouds on the horizon. Dean wanted to be out of town before that happened. The Impala could handle basically anything, but the heater still rattled with whatever bits of Lego that had been shoved in there ages ago and putting chains on the tires annoyed the crap out of him. He started to look for a case. Maybe, if he found a good one, Sam would be willing to get the Hell out of dodge before the weather turned absolutely dreadful and Devil showed up with a basket of fruit.
Dean was clicking away on his laptop when it occurred to him that nationwide there was hardly any demon sign to be seen. A sprinkle around a couple of major cities, but nothing that suggested Lucifer might be holed up anymore.
There was maybe a ghost in Sacramento. Sam wasn't going to go anywhere for a ghost, Dean was pretty sure.
In the middle of an article about a strange animal attack out in Auburn, a knock sounded at the door, very loudly. Sam and Cas wouldn't knock because the two of them had more than enough arms to carry coffee and open the door, and it wasn't as if they were expecting anyone. Maybe Nichole had decided to drop by for a tribute or something. Maybe Stephanie needed advice. With a shrug and a gun in his hand, Dean got up and slowly, slowly, crept toward the door.
"The car's out here so I know someone's home!" A man's voice called from the other side of the door, muffled by the thin layer of wood between them.
Dean touched the brass door knob and unlocked it, then slowly, slowly, opened the door.
The blond man standing outside was shorter than him and thin framed, with a sharp nose and jaw, wide ice blue eyes. The smile that turned up his mouth was perhaps just a little too friendly, especially when paired with the bouquet of wildflowers in his hands. The black button up shirt and open collar, tight fitting jeans, and fairly well disguised cowboy boots made the guy look like maybe he'd gone a couple of states to get to their motel room, what with how that was a look common enough in places like Arizona, but not college towns in California. The guy was probably in his mid-twenties.
"Can I help you?" Dean's thumb cocked the gun on impulse.
"Well, that depends. Is Sam around?" The guy was all smiles. It was almost, almost creepy.
"How do you know my brother?"
The eyebrow that cocked at him cast the man's angled face into the perfect mask of disbelief. "You don't recognize me? Right. New suit. I'm your brother's not-so-secret admirer, Dean. How about you let me in?" His smile revealed perfect, white teeth in his wide mouth, and his eyes burned like blue fire. The air around him seemed colder than the air inside the motel, somehow, and the bouquet of flowers in his hands wiggled a little, like maybe the Devil was excited about the prospect of Dean opening the door and inviting him inside.
"Lucifer," Dean said, just to be sure, and held the gun in his hand pointed so it would hit the man on the other side of the door in the chest if he fired. Wouldn't do much. He still wanted to squeeze the trigger.
"In the flesh," the Devil enthused. "Really, just open the door. If I were here to kill you, don't you think your neck would be snapped by now?"
Dean shook his head. "You were always more the hands on type when it came to trying to kill me."
"When did I... oh, right. C'mon! You can't be mad about a couple of punches! I'm sure you and Sam have done worse to each other over the years." Lucifer took a step forward and pulled one hand away from the flowers to hold it up and spread his new, thin fingers as if to show that he was unarmed. Dean wasn't that stupid.
"No, we haven't."
Lucifer tsked twice and frowned. "And now I've been honest with you and you've lied to me. Who's more trustworthy?"
"He's not here. He went to get coffee." Dean hissed, because looking at him it was really hard to tell what Satan wanted. He looked like some lovestruck grad-student with a bad sense of fashion and a lecherous smile, not the one-time-king of Hell. The thought - the prospect of Lucifer really, actually, in all reality, wanting to shag his little brother, brought to mind things he never thought he would be imagining, images he pushed out of his head just in case someone was peeking.
"When will he be back?"
"When will who be back?" Sam's voice surprised Dean a little, mostly because he hadn't known he was that focused on Lucifer. Cas and Sam were standing at the end of the little walkway, coming up from the sidewalk, parallel to the line of reddish motel room doors. Sam had a fairly ugly shirt on, with what might have been a floral pattern printed on the inside, and slightly flared jeans, two coffee cups dwarfed in his gargantuan hands. Next to him, Cas looked small and brown with his coat and a borrowed shirt of Dean's that his shoulders did not quite fill out, and a pair of jeans that actually required the use of a belt. Between the two of them, Dean thought they might make the least threatening gay couple on the planet, except that he knew better.
"You," Dean tried to put all sorts of meaning into the word, but he wasn't entirely sure Sam would get it.
Cas was looking at Lucifer like he'd seen a ghost, if not something a thousand times worse.
Sam's eyebrows crinkled and then realization, before Lucifer could even say a word, crawled across his face and widened his eyes.
"I brought you flowers."
The three of them looked at the Devil, offering Sam his little bundle of plants, as enthusiastic about it as a little girl offering a spring bud to her crush. When Sam's hand came out and took them, Lucifer smiled a little brighter and blinked up at him like he expected something.
"Uh... thanks?" Sam ventured.
"I'm sure this will all go more smoothly if we don't have the conversation right here. In front of..." Lucifer looked between Dean and Castiel and his mouth evened into far less of a smile. "People who would rather see me dead or imprisoned. Castiel?" He looked flat out demur then, which wasn't something the Devil was supposed to look like, no matter the face he was wearing. He didn't step closer to Cas. He kept his distance, like he knew better, like he knew that if he showed even the slightest hint of violence he'd have a great big hole shot into his chest. Dean's finger twitched on the trigger. "I... lost my temper the last time I saw you. I'm glad to see you."
Cas lifted his head like he was everything he had always been, defiant, and narrowed his eyes. "Unfortunately, the feeling is not mutual."
That got another lopsided smile out of Satan. "Sam, can I have a minute with you?"
"I've got some questions first," Sam shifted the flowers to his elbow, the better to keep his coffee's steady. "First off, who are you possessing?"
Lucifer shrugged. "Some kid from Mexicali. Got permission, waited for him to die, and slipped in while the house was still warm. A motorcycle accident destroyed most of his primary brain functions and the only family he had was a golden retriever - she's in the truck, because I don't care, but I know somebody used to." He paused, looked down at his hands and then back up at Sam, and lifted and eyebrow like that was a quirk of his when he was feeling mischievous. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to find a vessel that fits your moral standards? It was like trying to find a needle in a needle exchange program. Next question."
"Why did you bring me these?" Sam couldn't quite lift the flowers but what he meant was obvious nonetheless.
"Because roses are cliché." Lucifer said it like that was something everyone should know. "And you're a little bit of a health nut, so I wasn't going to bring you chocolate."
"But why would you bring me anything?"
"That's what people do. Forgive me for trying to bridge the gap between dimensional beings."
Sam frowned.
"What do you want me to say, Sammy? You and me, me and you, hot and cold, heads and tails, good and evil. So I can't wear you like a sock-puppet, that doesn't mean we can't be together, right?" Lucifer's hands came up and he held them out powerlessly, like he wanted to beg Sam to understand but he couldn't make himself. He didn't even pause to look at Dean, just went on, like it was just him and Sam and none of it could make anyone or anything uncomfortable. "I know, I'm your Devil, I'm responsible for an awful lot of what's wrong with the world, but it isn't like I didn't have my reasons. So the ends justify the means in my book and that isn't always the case in yours - it isn't like we can't overcome that difference. I want to try to."
"Lucifer-"
"The truth is, I could never love humanity because I don't understand them. I don't understand your morals or your traditions, your questions or your logic. But I've watched for a long time, learned. And you taught me something, Sam." The Devil didn't stop, though he did look at Dean briefly before he went on, like he would have rather that the older Winchester not be there to hear him, like he was nervous. His new face was difficult to read when it became overly emotional. "After all of the time I spent watching, you taught me that nothing is unforgivable. Nothing. Michael hasn't forgiven me, Father hasn't forgiven me, but you did."
Sam looked like he wanted to hold out his hands and speak with them, but he couldn't with so many things in his hands. "Then what do you want from me? If you don't want me as a vessel, what can I possibly give you?"
"You think I know?" Lucifer shot back, a soft laugh in his voice. "Surprise, Sammy, I've got no idea. Kisses might be a nice place to start."
"Oh." Dean heard himself say, and immediately regretted it. There were too many eyes on him all of a sudden, maybe because Sam and Lucifer had both forgotten they weren't alone. He offered a little smile, because that seemed fitting. "And here I thought Sammy was just having masochistic sex dreams..."
"Dean-" Sam started.
"Masochistic? Please, the guy's about as vanilla as root beer," Lucifer cut him off.
"What does flavor have to do with any of this?" Cas asked, very softly.
Sam pushed both coffees and the flowers into Dean's chest then and gave him an imploring look that Dean immediately understood. He pinned the flowers to his chest and took the one coffee in his left hand without hesitating, and felt his chest clench when Sam took Lucifer by the wrist with his free hand and tugged him back toward the sidewalk. It was hard enough to hold the coffee and the flowers with one arm, he didn't need to be running after his brother on top of that.
It may not have been the right thing, but it was what Sam wanted, and Dean was willing to hold his tongue for a little while.
"We're going on a walk. I'll be back." Sam gave an obligatory excuse and moved away at a steady pace, the Devil's wrist still wrapped in his fingers even when Lucifer had caught on to the fact that they weren't going to stand there and chat in front of others.
Dean thought he maybe would just shoot nothing for the sake of pulling the trigger, but then Cas was in front of the door and the inconvenience of the situation outweighed his frustration. There wasn't a thing he could say, not to Sam, not to Cas, and not to Lucifer, that would make figuring things out any easier.
"Do we wait now?" Cas asked him, and came to stand just a little too close to be anything but intimate.
"Yeah."
- - -
They found a park. It was a large, spread out affair with only the smallest hills and tiny, empty playground, and a long line of protective awnings that ran the length and of a large section of concrete path like the area needed to be protected from the weather. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds for a little and bathed the little playground in light, cast long, perfect shadows across the wood chips that surrounded the purple plastic slide, the blue rope ladder, and the yellow metal stairs.
Sam perched on the lowest platform and Lucifer sat beside him, silent now that they had a chance to speak without being heard.
"Part of me was hoping..." Sam looked down at his feet on the ground before he noticed that Lucifer's didn't reach that far, and for whatever reason, that made it difficult to focus. Maybe because Nick had been pretty tall and he'd become used to that. It didn't matter. "That you wouldn't come find me. I never really thought about... what might happen if you felt everything, and then I tried not to think about what might happen if you weren't lying about letting you out. It's kind of..."
"But how would I give you the trident if I stayed away?" Lucifer reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver flask and unscrewed the cap like it was the most natural thing in the world. "What would the point be, really? I shut the door on Michael. It's not like Apocalypse now is an option and even if it was, I don't want to do it. Really," Lucifer took a short swig from the flask and capped it before he wiped the smear of blood from his lips. "I don't actually know what I want to do now that no one is around to tell me what's expected of me."
"Then... you don't want to kill humanity and destroy the world?"
The Devil shrugged. "I feel like as crappy as this world is, if you're a part of it, maybe this isn't just Sodom and Gomorrah all over again. Maybe there's an alternative to fire and salt, you know?"
Sam shook his head and looked at Lucifer then, at the sort of confused tilt to his eyebrows and the little quirk to his lips. It was like Lucifer didn't even know he'd said something nice. "I guess." Sam did not particularly like that the Devil could look at him with as much intensity as he was at that moment, so he looked away. "But you really came to give me the trident? Isn't it... more potent in your hands than mine?"
"Oh, definitely," Lucifer nodded, "But I doubt your brother is going to want me hanging around like Cas used to do and showing up to kill things when you need me. He's a bit more into justice than mercy, if I'm getting the signals right."
"Yeah, you got that one."
"And I can't just ride around in the back of the car with you. I've got more demons out for my blood than I can drink in forever, Heaven sounding the alarm that I'm out, a couple of gods that can't understand that I don't care... I've got more luggage than a single mom fresh out of prison for attempting to murder a member of the mafia."
Sam couldn't help but chuckle at that. It was an awful lot of luggage, but there was one thing missing. "You forgot the part where I'm you ex-boyfriend or something."
Lucifer managed to smile.
For a time they sat there in silence, until the Devil began to swing his feet. His toes just reached the wood chips if he stretched his feet fully, and his boots left little wet ruts in their wake. The wind picked up and played with his hair.
"You're going to win, you know. Against the Leviathans, I mean." Lucifer pushed himself off of the platform and stumbled before he put out his arms to steady himself, human in every right when Sam wasn't looking at his eyes. The Devil did a little turn and held his hands out to Sam as if to invite him down as well. "Now, I just have to figure out what to do with myself while you don't need me. I've got an idea, but I'm not too sure either of you are going to like it."
Sam thought twice about taking Lucifer's hands before he did it, and slipped off the play structure far more gracefully than he had intended. He expected the Devil to do something silly then, like pull him close, but they just stood there, their hands together, and Sam felt his lips twitch in the beginnings of a smile. "Why?"
"Because you're sentimental."
That didn't answer Sam's question.
Lucifer smiled softly. "I made demons, I created them from human souls. And if I want to keep this body, I need to drink their blood, and if I want to stay out of the Cage, I'll need to fight them. This body can't kill demons with a thought. Also, you've still got some of me in you, so it might be harder than it would have been." His cool fingers squeezed Sam's palms like he didn't want the hunter too pull away. "The fact that I made them means that I should feel protective of them, am I wrong? That's how you would feel."
It occurred to Sam that teaching Lucifer was going to be a bit like trying to teach a sociopath, or a child that had never correctly learned empathy. "You don't feel bad about it, do you?"
"Nope," Lucifer sighed. "Just kind of annoyed."
Sam didn't even know where to start. "So you're telling me... you intend to hunt demons and Leviathans, give me your strongest weapon, and come at my call if I need you?" There were two thoughts in Sam's head just then - it was too good to be true and it wasn't fair.
"Until I figure out what I want to do with eternity... besides you, of course." The Devil's eyebrows lifted and fell and his mouth spit in a gash of a grin.
"I really don't know if I should be creeped out or happy to have you around."
"Happy. Maybe a little desperate. Turned on," Lucifer suggested and shrugged.
Sam rolled his eyes, but he didn't step away from the Devil. He wasn't sure about much of anything anymore, but he was sure he would figure it all out before the end. "Come back with me," he said. "We're going to have to talk to Dean and Cas about this, even if I already know how it's going to go."
Lucifer nodded. "Does that mean I get to kiss you, Sammy?"
"Not... when soccer moms might be watching."
-- -- --
When Sam made it back to the motel it was a bit like walking into a crime scene someone had tried to tidy up, though they'd failed about halfway finished. To start with, everything smelled sweaty. Second, Cas was wearing one of Dean's T-shirts and nodding off on Dean's bed. Third, and perhaps the most disturbing and amusing, was the fact that Dean acted like nothing had happened to the point that it became more than obvious that it had, his fear of some sort of backlash flashing like a neon sign in his eyes. The most incriminating bit of evidence had to be one of two things: Castiel's coat draped across him like a blanket, or Dean's tender, dewy-eyed expression when the angel finally fell asleep.
"I thought angels didn't do that." Sam observed, and didn't even say a word when Dean seated himself on the edge of the same bed Cas was on.
His brother shrugged. "He was trying to fall when I found him. I don't think he wants to be an angel anymore." Dean's eyes shifted from Castiel to Sam and back again, and Sam recognized his possessive, defensive expression the whole time. "He just wants to be a baby in a trench coat, I guess."
"He'll learn, if that happens." Sam said, because there wasn't really anything else he could say without sounding coldhearted.
Dean nodded and didn't put his hand on Cas, though it was obvious that he thought about it.
With a sigh, Sam sat himself on the opposite bed. He hadn't decided how to tell Dean that Lucifer wanted them to stay put and he had no intention of bringing it up until necessity dictated he had to. He didn't think leaving was on his brother's mind at the moment, though. "You and Cas are... I mean, I don't want to intrude, but... it's not just a dream anymore, is it?"
Dean's expression might have been just the slightest bit guarded when he looked at Sam. "And?"
Sam shrugged. "And you can't call me gay, now. Not without hearing about how it takes one to know one."
Dean frowned. "You're still way geekier than I'll ever be."
"Right."
"And he has wings. Not to mention he's a bad-ass."
"Sure."
"And he's wearing a Metallica shirt. Name one girl you know of that's that cool. And alive."
Sam finally let himself crack a smile and shook his head, because it was too normal of a conversation. Maybe normal people would be more worried about a man and an angel getting together than any cultural rules they might be breaking based on gender. "Dean, you don't have to justify it to me. You're the one with the bond. Just... you don't have to be worried about it. I'm still your brother, you're still you, Cas is still Cas. Same rules apply as always." Which were simple rules. No sex on Sam's stuff, no sex with Sam's stuff, no sex when other things were more pressing, no taking time out of work for anything that would take more than an hour - Dean was pretty good with the base rules most of the time, unless Sam's laptop and self-service counted.
Dean's smile was as genuine as they came. "Thanks."
Sam didn't think he even really deserved the gratitude.
"You heard anything from Lucy recently?" Dean asked, and pushed himself off of the bed so he could move back to the chair, maybe because he was about as tired as Sam was - which was dead tired - and sitting on a mattress in the middle of the afternoon made napping a very attractive option.
"No." Sam didn't sound very convincing.
"Not even a little visit to say... I dunno... watch out for Apocalypse Two: Electric Boogaloo?"
Sam knew there was no reason to hide it, not when Dean would figure it out eventually. "Yeah, actually. He... dropped in," Sam glanced at Cas to be sure he was truly asleep before he went on. He hadn't had the chance to explain the whole situation to the angel and he didn't want to be surprised with having to. It would be easier if he had a speech prepared even if the majority of it went unused. "He needs a new vessel, to start, and demon blood, so it won't explode. Hell isn't exactly excited to have him back, either. He... he wants us to stick around for a couple of days, for some reason." Not to come knocking, because that was ridiculous.
Dean made a face like maybe that was good news before he opened his mouth and spoke the obvious. "So if he's lying, it's a trap."
"Pretty much."
"And if he's not, maybe you are gay."
"Dean."
Dean smiled and Sam's face fell. The older Winchester did not quite laugh, though it was in his eyes, under the surface, and it brimmed up in his voice like bubbles in a glass of champagne; delicate and pleasing. "Just saying, takes one to know one."
From the mattress, Cas shushed them and curled into Dean's pillow. Sam thought he likely wouldn't even remember doing it when he woke up.
"You want to wait here? See how it pans out?" Sam asked without thinking.
Dean did think about it, mulled it over, chewed it like a cow chews on cud. His mouth turned into a serious line, his eyes cold. "Your call. It's not my soul making love to the Devil's mojo."
"Great," Sam sighed and leaned back on his mattress, too tired to argue. "To start with, we take a day or two to recover. After that, we'll see what happens." His eyes closed of their own accord and he felt himself falling backward into the mattress, slipping away from reality. Realistically they both needed a trip to a doctor just to be sure they were both going to be alright, but he couldn't make himself get up just then, too transfixed by the darkness behind his eyes. Hell was there, he knew it, but that didn't mean it was going to rise up and pull him down into memories if he didn't think about it.
"I can agree with that." Dean mumbled, and the opposite bed creaked with his shifting weight, the springs protested. "Wake me up for dinner, yeah?"
Sam didn't even open his eyes to confirm that his brother and their shared guardian angel were curled up on the bed together, he just hummed his agreement and drifted off to sleep.
- - -
The following day it rained again, and the next two saw the temperature drop to ridiculous lows, ice and snow loomed in the future like ominous clouds on the horizon. Dean wanted to be out of town before that happened. The Impala could handle basically anything, but the heater still rattled with whatever bits of Lego that had been shoved in there ages ago and putting chains on the tires annoyed the crap out of him. He started to look for a case. Maybe, if he found a good one, Sam would be willing to get the Hell out of dodge before the weather turned absolutely dreadful and Devil showed up with a basket of fruit.
Dean was clicking away on his laptop when it occurred to him that nationwide there was hardly any demon sign to be seen. A sprinkle around a couple of major cities, but nothing that suggested Lucifer might be holed up anymore.
There was maybe a ghost in Sacramento. Sam wasn't going to go anywhere for a ghost, Dean was pretty sure.
In the middle of an article about a strange animal attack out in Auburn, a knock sounded at the door, very loudly. Sam and Cas wouldn't knock because the two of them had more than enough arms to carry coffee and open the door, and it wasn't as if they were expecting anyone. Maybe Nichole had decided to drop by for a tribute or something. Maybe Stephanie needed advice. With a shrug and a gun in his hand, Dean got up and slowly, slowly, crept toward the door.
"The car's out here so I know someone's home!" A man's voice called from the other side of the door, muffled by the thin layer of wood between them.
Dean touched the brass door knob and unlocked it, then slowly, slowly, opened the door.
The blond man standing outside was shorter than him and thin framed, with a sharp nose and jaw, wide ice blue eyes. The smile that turned up his mouth was perhaps just a little too friendly, especially when paired with the bouquet of wildflowers in his hands. The black button up shirt and open collar, tight fitting jeans, and fairly well disguised cowboy boots made the guy look like maybe he'd gone a couple of states to get to their motel room, what with how that was a look common enough in places like Arizona, but not college towns in California. The guy was probably in his mid-twenties.
"Can I help you?" Dean's thumb cocked the gun on impulse.
"Well, that depends. Is Sam around?" The guy was all smiles. It was almost, almost creepy.
"How do you know my brother?"
The eyebrow that cocked at him cast the man's angled face into the perfect mask of disbelief. "You don't recognize me? Right. New suit. I'm your brother's not-so-secret admirer, Dean. How about you let me in?" His smile revealed perfect, white teeth in his wide mouth, and his eyes burned like blue fire. The air around him seemed colder than the air inside the motel, somehow, and the bouquet of flowers in his hands wiggled a little, like maybe the Devil was excited about the prospect of Dean opening the door and inviting him inside.
"Lucifer," Dean said, just to be sure, and held the gun in his hand pointed so it would hit the man on the other side of the door in the chest if he fired. Wouldn't do much. He still wanted to squeeze the trigger.
"In the flesh," the Devil enthused. "Really, just open the door. If I were here to kill you, don't you think your neck would be snapped by now?"
Dean shook his head. "You were always more the hands on type when it came to trying to kill me."
"When did I... oh, right. C'mon! You can't be mad about a couple of punches! I'm sure you and Sam have done worse to each other over the years." Lucifer took a step forward and pulled one hand away from the flowers to hold it up and spread his new, thin fingers as if to show that he was unarmed. Dean wasn't that stupid.
"No, we haven't."
Lucifer tsked twice and frowned. "And now I've been honest with you and you've lied to me. Who's more trustworthy?"
"He's not here. He went to get coffee." Dean hissed, because looking at him it was really hard to tell what Satan wanted. He looked like some lovestruck grad-student with a bad sense of fashion and a lecherous smile, not the one-time-king of Hell. The thought - the prospect of Lucifer really, actually, in all reality, wanting to shag his little brother, brought to mind things he never thought he would be imagining, images he pushed out of his head just in case someone was peeking.
"When will he be back?"
"When will who be back?" Sam's voice surprised Dean a little, mostly because he hadn't known he was that focused on Lucifer. Cas and Sam were standing at the end of the little walkway, coming up from the sidewalk, parallel to the line of reddish motel room doors. Sam had a fairly ugly shirt on, with what might have been a floral pattern printed on the inside, and slightly flared jeans, two coffee cups dwarfed in his gargantuan hands. Next to him, Cas looked small and brown with his coat and a borrowed shirt of Dean's that his shoulders did not quite fill out, and a pair of jeans that actually required the use of a belt. Between the two of them, Dean thought they might make the least threatening gay couple on the planet, except that he knew better.
"You," Dean tried to put all sorts of meaning into the word, but he wasn't entirely sure Sam would get it.
Cas was looking at Lucifer like he'd seen a ghost, if not something a thousand times worse.
Sam's eyebrows crinkled and then realization, before Lucifer could even say a word, crawled across his face and widened his eyes.
"I brought you flowers."
The three of them looked at the Devil, offering Sam his little bundle of plants, as enthusiastic about it as a little girl offering a spring bud to her crush. When Sam's hand came out and took them, Lucifer smiled a little brighter and blinked up at him like he expected something.
"Uh... thanks?" Sam ventured.
"I'm sure this will all go more smoothly if we don't have the conversation right here. In front of..." Lucifer looked between Dean and Castiel and his mouth evened into far less of a smile. "People who would rather see me dead or imprisoned. Castiel?" He looked flat out demur then, which wasn't something the Devil was supposed to look like, no matter the face he was wearing. He didn't step closer to Cas. He kept his distance, like he knew better, like he knew that if he showed even the slightest hint of violence he'd have a great big hole shot into his chest. Dean's finger twitched on the trigger. "I... lost my temper the last time I saw you. I'm glad to see you."
Cas lifted his head like he was everything he had always been, defiant, and narrowed his eyes. "Unfortunately, the feeling is not mutual."
That got another lopsided smile out of Satan. "Sam, can I have a minute with you?"
"I've got some questions first," Sam shifted the flowers to his elbow, the better to keep his coffee's steady. "First off, who are you possessing?"
Lucifer shrugged. "Some kid from Mexicali. Got permission, waited for him to die, and slipped in while the house was still warm. A motorcycle accident destroyed most of his primary brain functions and the only family he had was a golden retriever - she's in the truck, because I don't care, but I know somebody used to." He paused, looked down at his hands and then back up at Sam, and lifted and eyebrow like that was a quirk of his when he was feeling mischievous. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to find a vessel that fits your moral standards? It was like trying to find a needle in a needle exchange program. Next question."
"Why did you bring me these?" Sam couldn't quite lift the flowers but what he meant was obvious nonetheless.
"Because roses are cliché." Lucifer said it like that was something everyone should know. "And you're a little bit of a health nut, so I wasn't going to bring you chocolate."
"But why would you bring me anything?"
"That's what people do. Forgive me for trying to bridge the gap between dimensional beings."
Sam frowned.
"What do you want me to say, Sammy? You and me, me and you, hot and cold, heads and tails, good and evil. So I can't wear you like a sock-puppet, that doesn't mean we can't be together, right?" Lucifer's hands came up and he held them out powerlessly, like he wanted to beg Sam to understand but he couldn't make himself. He didn't even pause to look at Dean, just went on, like it was just him and Sam and none of it could make anyone or anything uncomfortable. "I know, I'm your Devil, I'm responsible for an awful lot of what's wrong with the world, but it isn't like I didn't have my reasons. So the ends justify the means in my book and that isn't always the case in yours - it isn't like we can't overcome that difference. I want to try to."
"Lucifer-"
"The truth is, I could never love humanity because I don't understand them. I don't understand your morals or your traditions, your questions or your logic. But I've watched for a long time, learned. And you taught me something, Sam." The Devil didn't stop, though he did look at Dean briefly before he went on, like he would have rather that the older Winchester not be there to hear him, like he was nervous. His new face was difficult to read when it became overly emotional. "After all of the time I spent watching, you taught me that nothing is unforgivable. Nothing. Michael hasn't forgiven me, Father hasn't forgiven me, but you did."
Sam looked like he wanted to hold out his hands and speak with them, but he couldn't with so many things in his hands. "Then what do you want from me? If you don't want me as a vessel, what can I possibly give you?"
"You think I know?" Lucifer shot back, a soft laugh in his voice. "Surprise, Sammy, I've got no idea. Kisses might be a nice place to start."
"Oh." Dean heard himself say, and immediately regretted it. There were too many eyes on him all of a sudden, maybe because Sam and Lucifer had both forgotten they weren't alone. He offered a little smile, because that seemed fitting. "And here I thought Sammy was just having masochistic sex dreams..."
"Dean-" Sam started.
"Masochistic? Please, the guy's about as vanilla as root beer," Lucifer cut him off.
"What does flavor have to do with any of this?" Cas asked, very softly.
Sam pushed both coffees and the flowers into Dean's chest then and gave him an imploring look that Dean immediately understood. He pinned the flowers to his chest and took the one coffee in his left hand without hesitating, and felt his chest clench when Sam took Lucifer by the wrist with his free hand and tugged him back toward the sidewalk. It was hard enough to hold the coffee and the flowers with one arm, he didn't need to be running after his brother on top of that.
It may not have been the right thing, but it was what Sam wanted, and Dean was willing to hold his tongue for a little while.
"We're going on a walk. I'll be back." Sam gave an obligatory excuse and moved away at a steady pace, the Devil's wrist still wrapped in his fingers even when Lucifer had caught on to the fact that they weren't going to stand there and chat in front of others.
Dean thought he maybe would just shoot nothing for the sake of pulling the trigger, but then Cas was in front of the door and the inconvenience of the situation outweighed his frustration. There wasn't a thing he could say, not to Sam, not to Cas, and not to Lucifer, that would make figuring things out any easier.
"Do we wait now?" Cas asked him, and came to stand just a little too close to be anything but intimate.
"Yeah."
- - -
They found a park. It was a large, spread out affair with only the smallest hills and tiny, empty playground, and a long line of protective awnings that ran the length and of a large section of concrete path like the area needed to be protected from the weather. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds for a little and bathed the little playground in light, cast long, perfect shadows across the wood chips that surrounded the purple plastic slide, the blue rope ladder, and the yellow metal stairs.
Sam perched on the lowest platform and Lucifer sat beside him, silent now that they had a chance to speak without being heard.
"Part of me was hoping..." Sam looked down at his feet on the ground before he noticed that Lucifer's didn't reach that far, and for whatever reason, that made it difficult to focus. Maybe because Nick had been pretty tall and he'd become used to that. It didn't matter. "That you wouldn't come find me. I never really thought about... what might happen if you felt everything, and then I tried not to think about what might happen if you weren't lying about letting you out. It's kind of..."
"But how would I give you the trident if I stayed away?" Lucifer reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver flask and unscrewed the cap like it was the most natural thing in the world. "What would the point be, really? I shut the door on Michael. It's not like Apocalypse now is an option and even if it was, I don't want to do it. Really," Lucifer took a short swig from the flask and capped it before he wiped the smear of blood from his lips. "I don't actually know what I want to do now that no one is around to tell me what's expected of me."
"Then... you don't want to kill humanity and destroy the world?"
The Devil shrugged. "I feel like as crappy as this world is, if you're a part of it, maybe this isn't just Sodom and Gomorrah all over again. Maybe there's an alternative to fire and salt, you know?"
Sam shook his head and looked at Lucifer then, at the sort of confused tilt to his eyebrows and the little quirk to his lips. It was like Lucifer didn't even know he'd said something nice. "I guess." Sam did not particularly like that the Devil could look at him with as much intensity as he was at that moment, so he looked away. "But you really came to give me the trident? Isn't it... more potent in your hands than mine?"
"Oh, definitely," Lucifer nodded, "But I doubt your brother is going to want me hanging around like Cas used to do and showing up to kill things when you need me. He's a bit more into justice than mercy, if I'm getting the signals right."
"Yeah, you got that one."
"And I can't just ride around in the back of the car with you. I've got more demons out for my blood than I can drink in forever, Heaven sounding the alarm that I'm out, a couple of gods that can't understand that I don't care... I've got more luggage than a single mom fresh out of prison for attempting to murder a member of the mafia."
Sam couldn't help but chuckle at that. It was an awful lot of luggage, but there was one thing missing. "You forgot the part where I'm you ex-boyfriend or something."
Lucifer managed to smile.
For a time they sat there in silence, until the Devil began to swing his feet. His toes just reached the wood chips if he stretched his feet fully, and his boots left little wet ruts in their wake. The wind picked up and played with his hair.
"You're going to win, you know. Against the Leviathans, I mean." Lucifer pushed himself off of the platform and stumbled before he put out his arms to steady himself, human in every right when Sam wasn't looking at his eyes. The Devil did a little turn and held his hands out to Sam as if to invite him down as well. "Now, I just have to figure out what to do with myself while you don't need me. I've got an idea, but I'm not too sure either of you are going to like it."
Sam thought twice about taking Lucifer's hands before he did it, and slipped off the play structure far more gracefully than he had intended. He expected the Devil to do something silly then, like pull him close, but they just stood there, their hands together, and Sam felt his lips twitch in the beginnings of a smile. "Why?"
"Because you're sentimental."
That didn't answer Sam's question.
Lucifer smiled softly. "I made demons, I created them from human souls. And if I want to keep this body, I need to drink their blood, and if I want to stay out of the Cage, I'll need to fight them. This body can't kill demons with a thought. Also, you've still got some of me in you, so it might be harder than it would have been." His cool fingers squeezed Sam's palms like he didn't want the hunter too pull away. "The fact that I made them means that I should feel protective of them, am I wrong? That's how you would feel."
It occurred to Sam that teaching Lucifer was going to be a bit like trying to teach a sociopath, or a child that had never correctly learned empathy. "You don't feel bad about it, do you?"
"Nope," Lucifer sighed. "Just kind of annoyed."
Sam didn't even know where to start. "So you're telling me... you intend to hunt demons and Leviathans, give me your strongest weapon, and come at my call if I need you?" There were two thoughts in Sam's head just then - it was too good to be true and it wasn't fair.
"Until I figure out what I want to do with eternity... besides you, of course." The Devil's eyebrows lifted and fell and his mouth spit in a gash of a grin.
"I really don't know if I should be creeped out or happy to have you around."
"Happy. Maybe a little desperate. Turned on," Lucifer suggested and shrugged.
Sam rolled his eyes, but he didn't step away from the Devil. He wasn't sure about much of anything anymore, but he was sure he would figure it all out before the end. "Come back with me," he said. "We're going to have to talk to Dean and Cas about this, even if I already know how it's going to go."
Lucifer nodded. "Does that mean I get to kiss you, Sammy?"
"Not... when soccer moms might be watching."