"I don't know what you're talking about," the woman says.
"She's lying," Lucifer whispers in his ear. "You know she is."
Sam squares his jaw. "Ma'am, are you sure you didn't see your husband that night? Just before he died?"
Dean elbows him, his eyes screaming what the hell, man, drop it already, but Lucifer says she's lying, and Lucifer--well, as much as Sam hates to admit it, he wouldn't have survived that week away from Dean as well as he did if it were not for Lucifer. It's fucked-up, but as it turns out, even he can't run away from two things at the same time.
(i may be a hallucination, sam, lucifer said, smooth and slow, but you know what? it turns out that i'm the more trustworthy companion. and he smiled, soft and gentle, and and and - sam wasn't falling for it. he wasn't, he wasn't
( ... )
(they watched the sunset. it was probably stupid, but sam revelled in the moment: sitting on the hood of his stolen car, watching the sun sink beneath a sky streaked with red and gold, his collar turned against a cool breeze.
an eternity of suffering in the depths of hell, and this moment, quiet and still and beautiful: somehow, sam is glad to have shared them both with him.)
-
"Sam, you're scaring me, man," Dean says. He does look scared, his eyes wide and green and slightly wet. "You have to tell me what's going on."
"I'm fine, Dean," Sam says automatically.
"Oh, more than fine," Lucifer adds from across the room, and Sam smiles at him.
Dean sighs, shakes his head. "You think I haven't noticed the things you're doing now? The constant nose-bleeds? Sam, you can't pretend everything's fine when it isn't. I thought you--we'd gone past all of this."
Sam's nonplussed. He's not lying - he is fine, better than he's been in a long, long while. He knows it'll take time for Dean to understand - he admits to not understanding it
( ... )
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"I don't know what you're talking about," the woman says.
"She's lying," Lucifer whispers in his ear. "You know she is."
Sam squares his jaw. "Ma'am, are you sure you didn't see your husband that night? Just before he died?"
Dean elbows him, his eyes screaming what the hell, man, drop it already, but Lucifer says she's lying, and Lucifer--well, as much as Sam hates to admit it, he wouldn't have survived that week away from Dean as well as he did if it were not for Lucifer. It's fucked-up, but as it turns out, even he can't run away from two things at the same time.
(i may be a hallucination, sam, lucifer said, smooth and slow, but you know what? it turns out that i'm the more trustworthy companion. and he smiled, soft and gentle, and and and - sam wasn't falling for it. he wasn't, he wasn't ( ... )
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an eternity of suffering in the depths of hell, and this moment, quiet and still and beautiful: somehow, sam is glad to have shared them both with him.)
-
"Sam, you're scaring me, man," Dean says. He does look scared, his eyes wide and green and slightly wet. "You have to tell me what's going on."
"I'm fine, Dean," Sam says automatically.
"Oh, more than fine," Lucifer adds from across the room, and Sam smiles at him.
Dean sighs, shakes his head. "You think I haven't noticed the things you're doing now? The constant nose-bleeds? Sam, you can't pretend everything's fine when it isn't. I thought you--we'd gone past all of this."
Sam's nonplussed. He's not lying - he is fine, better than he's been in a long, long while. He knows it'll take time for Dean to understand - he admits to not understanding it ( ... )
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