Supernatural 1. The deal

**Prompt: 'Fic idea where a lonely person sells their soul to Satan to be their friend. And Satan just rolls with it until he realizes at the time of their death he genuinely likes them. Since he can't renege on the contract he takes them to Hell and puts them in a high position of power. Demons hardened by millenia of torture now have to answer to a shy, self-conscious, quiet, depressed, lonely person who has unintentionally become Satan's #1**

**Warnings: The whole fic will deal with depression and how it's dealt. The relationship Lucifer/Sam will be slowly built and it won't be a 'love-fixes-all' kind of fic, so if your looking for that, I'm sorry,**

**Also, I've tried my best to write an accurate description of everything that happens. Now, I haven't gone ever to a north-american mental facility, but I've done my research about it and read comments about many patients and nurses that had gone to this type of hospitals. **

* * *

"I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going on in your head when you don't even understand it yourself."

-Sara Quinn

* * *

**On The Highway To Hell**

**Chapter 1: The Deal**

Sam felt a little nervous as he dug, his nails getting dirtier with every small portion of grit he pulled out of the little hole he had already formed. He had not thought for a second that something would happen, but the little green box that held his friend's wishes was next to him and it seemed like the right thing to do.

So he kept digging, ignoring the blood that poured from his fingertips in the same way he ignored the itch he felt in the back of his eyes.

* * *

Rufus started out as his partner during the sessions the doctors forced them to attend together; the point was for them to be alone for one hour in one of the hospital's rooms that only had a table with two chairs and a clock on the wall, tickling loudly with every second that passed. After the hour finished, they could decide to go to their own respective rooms or to the community room. Something simple, they said, just to make them open a little more.

In the beginning the doctors had said it would be easier for Sam to talk to someone akin to him, but he still couldn't understand why the doctors though it would be productive for two people who were not sociable to end up together. It was not as if they could not socialize, but it was more that they didn't want to talk. They wanted to be alone.

And, like anyone would have expected, the first days they didn't talk at all. Rufus just crossed his arms over his chest and muttered from time to time about how ridiculous the whole thing was. Sam didn't even notice him those first days, he just blankly followed the instructions that were given to him and sat on the chair in front of Rufus with his legs pressed tight against his chest. He scratched his wrists occasionally as he looked through the window, thinking about how Jess would have liked to sit on that grass to read. She loved to read.

* * *

It wasn't until their second week that they finally started a conversation, Rufus being the one who initiated it with an "Okay, son, listen. This isn't going to end until those docs watch us interact or something." And it wasn't until that moment that Sam finally saw Rufus, really looked at him. It was as if he was walking in a crowd, never bothering to look at the people, just walking without a goal. But then, someone talked and Sam turned his head because it felt familiar. The blur that he always saw from his peripheral vision was now clear and he finally noticed the little things that he hadn't bother to pay attention before.

He noticed that Rufus had a mustache, that he was old and didn't possess a leg; that half of his right arm did not seem to be able to move. And that something in his tone felt so familiar it hurt. But Sam hadn't felt anything in long time, detached. If it hurt, it meant that he was alive, that he was real.

The beginning of what would be the beginning of their small conversations started with Rufus telling him what he had, or what that the doctors thought he had: PTSD and paranoia.

"Kid, in my line of work you don't get to survive without being paranoid."

Sam didn't say anything about himself ─he just wanted to listen─ so he nodded and made some small remarks every now and then. Enough for him to continue. It was like that, in one conversation, that he found that he was gruff and had that 'take-no-shits' kind of attitude that reminded him of Bobby. When he finally made that connection, he realized what was what he found so recognizable on him. That might be why he found it easy to relax in his presence and to start talking to him: because he felt familiar.

Not to mention that their talks provided him the distraction he needed to avoid drowning in his own thoughts, or at least to be able to ignore them for a while.

* * *

He didn't exactly remember when he started to enjoy their talks, perhaps some time around the third and fourth week. He always wanted to know more about other people, listen their stories and offer comfort. That was why he had enjoyed working with Ellen in the Roadhouse when he was little. And with Rufus was no exception.

Sam learned in the first week that Rufus didn't like to drink with others, but would never refuse to drink a cold Johnnie Walker if someone invited him, "though only the blue one because when you taste it, boy, you'll never be able to go back to drinking the cheap stuff anymore." He learned in the fourth week that his last name was Turner; in the sixth, that he was Jewish. He had learned what being a hunter meant in the seventh ─the same day Sam had told him the real reason of why he had been admitted there.

When Rufus made his admission Sam had merely raised an eyebrow (it was getting easier for him to form facial expressions) but he did not judge because, after all, they were both in a mental facility.

After Rufus started asking weird questions Sam opened up about how everyone tended to die around him; how he hoped nothing would happen to his surrogate family. Rufus hummed, scratched his beard, and looked thoughtful all day. It wasn't until they were ready to leave that he told him, "kid, I ain't sure but, just to be safe, let me confirm if you're clean." He then spent the next week performing some kind of spells every day to him.

Some smelled odd, others tasted weird, but Sam followed all the instructions without protest because of the determination of Rufus's face. That and because, by then, he trusted him. Though it was curious seeing so many different types of herbs and how easily Rufus managed to pass them through security. When Sam asked him how he got the ingredients, Rufus only shrugged his shoulders before telling him about how he had many contacts that owed him many favors. The way his eyes glinted with amusement as he chuckled, made Sam huff in amusement.

* * *

He didn't know when he started to want it to be true. Sam guessed that after seeing him trying every day different things ,unusual methods each time, something deep inside him wanted to believe that maybe he did have some kind of curse, that it wasn't his fault, or at least, not entirely. There were times he wanted it to be real so much that it hurt to think about it. He didn't want to get his hopes up but, sometimes, a smile would slip up on his features before he fell asleep, others, his mind would beat him for being so innocent.

On their last day as partners, Rufus had pursed his lips before telling him that it must be just bad luck because he hadn't found anything wrong in him. "Sorry, kid."

Upon hearing the remorse in his tone, Sam tried, for the first time in months, to smile at him, to reassure him that he was fine even if he thought that there indeed was something wrong in him: Himself.

That was the first time Sam had seen some kind of sad expression in Rufus. And he couldn't take it. It hurt to keep the smile on his lips. It drooped with every breath he took, his eyes turning glassy. Before Rufus could reach for him, he excused and wished him a good night, rubbing his arms as he tried to store the old the negative emotions deep inside of him, deep enough to be able to ignore them. He didn't want to think about how crestfallen he felt, how stupid he was (stupid, stupid); because for one moment he thought that maybe the fault didn't belong to him.

He went to his room, closed the door, and curled on the floor. He breathed and counted. Tried to think in other things, to read at least one paragraph of one of the books he had. But the pain didn't go away. The pressure was there, suffocating him, making him unable to hold it together enough for him to reach his bed. He slowly crawled and lied on his bed, silent tears streaming down his face and thankfully, there were not whimpers this time.

A nurse walked silently in, asked him if he was okay, placing his pills and a cup of water on top of his the small chair next to his bed. She then helped him to sit and to drink them. It was easier to fall sleep after that.

* * *

They kept talking even after their reunions were finally over. His doctor told him in one of their sessions that it was good to see him more open with others, complimenting him about the progress he had made all week. Sam merely listened to him and tried to not space out as he nodded. But when he heard Dr. Simigh telling him that he was allowing him to receive visits once a week, his attention was on him all over again.

At first, Sam didn't know what to think of it, but he hid it well. He already knew what he had to do so he thanked his doctor first, not knowing if his smile looked genuine or not. He admitted that he did feel excited, thrilled to see Bobby and Ellen, but it only lasted until he stepped out of the doctor's office, because he didn't really remember very well what had happened in their last encounter. He could only recall feeling Ellen's lips on his hair as she said goodbye and Bobby's hug in the end.

Would they bring little Jo? He didn't think that it would happen, though he wished it did because, even if she wasn't his sister, he still loved her like one. Of course, his real brother died because of that so maybe it wasn't exactly a good idea to bring her. Sam wouldn't be able to blame them if they did so.

What would they ask him? What were they going to talk about? Would they ask him about how he was going? If so, what he was going to answer? They wouldn't understand what he was going through because he didn't even understand what was happening to him; how could you even explain something that you didn't have the words for?

Dean once told him that Sam was the one with 'people skills', always pushing him to talk to others so he wouldn't have to do it, to use his 'puppy eyes' so they could charm others. He laughed bitterly at that thought and cried until he fall asleep because Dean.

The next day the nurse came to wake him, reminding him that he needed to eat. He stood up, almost robotically, knowing that nothing would convince the nurse to let him stay in bed. He walked towards the dining room, ignoring the hollow in his chest that felt more like a physical pain, unbearable and constant. He felt too tired to feel grief, or perhaps he was just too numb to do it, that might be why, when he had his tray with food on his hands, he stood in the middle of the room and looked briefly at his usual corner where he ate alone. Stared at it before turning and going towards the table Rufus usually sat at, always looking around his surroundings for some sign of Ruby.

She was a nymphomaniac he had known for some time already, but for some reason, now, she looked at him as if he were the most delicious food she had seen in the entire universe. It made chills skitter down his back, his arm itching even more every time he noticed she was glancing towards his direction, a smirk always on her lips.

Although, since he started to sit on the same table that Rufus used, he hadn't see her. It seemed that the older man had some kind of aura that made Ruby go away.

* * *

He smiled for the first time in months when he saw little Jo next to Bobby and Ellen, waiting for him in one of the tables of the room for visits. They talked about everything and everyone at the same time: Ellen's bar (she had a new bartender), Bobby's garage (he finally made the old trunks disappear), little Jo's classes (she had aced everything, but crafts). They never mentioned what had happened to him or why he was wearing shirts with long sleeves in the middle of summer. Sam tried to smile more for little Jo, even when if his cheeks hurt and he grew more tired with every time he did it, but he didn't want to scare her or to do something that might make them decide to stop bringing her. Her beaming a bright smile at him was worth everything.

In their third visit he convinced Rufus to go with him because Ellen, after hearing about his friend, promised him to slip a blue label in Bobby's flask next to the brownies she baked, repeating that it wasn't any trouble, that she only wanted to meet him. Sam refused to drink Rufus' gift, telling him that it was for him and that perhaps some other time they would share a bottle instead of a flask. He grinned at him and accepted.

They all talked for a while, but after half an hour passed, they grew quieter. Sam spent the time drawing with little Jo as he talked softly with Ellen, while Bobby and Rufus discussed about some book they both had read. Some people around them looked at both men as if they thought they would rip their throats any time soon, but Sam knew that they liked each other, they were pretty similar after all.

* * *

A week before his death, while they ate, Rufus told him about the crossroads demons and how they could conceive anything you wanted by just burying some stuff in the middle of a crossroads and showed him the little green box with all the ingredients that he would need to put inside. Sam didn't know what half of the stuff was and Rufus didn't tell him, but he managed to recognize Rufus' picture in it, an old photo of a younger version of him.

"What are you going to wish?" he asked nervously. Sam didn't believe it, but he was truly curious to know the answer.

Rufus twisted the box in his hand. "I want my arm and leg back."

"What?"

"I ain't going to depend on those pills to dull my pain all my life, kid." He threw the small package on the table. "I want to leave this place and never come back, but I can't do it like this."

"But there must be something they want, right? I don't think they would concede something by the goodness of their hearts."

Rufus grinned and leaned more into his chair. "You're a smart kid. I know you'll be able to guess it."

Sam blinked. There was something in Rufus' tone that─ "Your soul?!" he shouted. He glanced around and, thankfully, there were few patients that day. "They want your soul?" he whispered.

He snorted. "The usual deal lasts ten years before the hellhounds take my soul down to Hell."

Sam couldn't remember since when he had started to follow his delusions, but Rufus' face was serious enough to make him talk with the same conviction. "Hellhounds?"

"They're hell's beasts," he answered shaking his head. "Dealt with them a few times. Horrendous creatures."

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "And I don't think that they just come to lick your face and ask for your soul, right?"

"They'll shred me into pieces." Sam tried to say something, but he didn't know what though. If he could at least accomplish what he wanted, then what Sam could say? You deserve to live fully? He wasn't a hypocrite. Sam looked up when he felt a pat on his shoulder. "Kid, I'm a hunter. My death will be bloody and horrible, that's our rule."

"But this is Hell what we're talking about."

Rufus' eyes clouded as he gazed at the side, a sad smile forming on his lips. "I've done a lot of crap in my life, son. I'm going to Hell one way or another." He grabbed the box between his fingers, touching the top almost fondly. "At least this way I can decide how."

"Why do you even tell me this? I'm suicidal, you know." Sam cringed at the word, looking down as he tried to ignore how his arm still itched. He quietly moved his hand using his spoon to play with the food on his plate.

"I know that you won't do it again, you're smart and you already know how your family would get if you are stupid enough to try to do that again."

Sam swallowed. He thought that maybe he was right; he wouldn't do that again. At least, he needed to believe that. Because after some nights thinking about what happened before he got inside the hospital, he was finally able to remember some more things. They were mostly flashes of Ellen's broken tone as she called the ambulance and Bobby's tears while he grabbed his wrists to stop the blood. There was coldness too, someone touching his head gently before he went unconscious. He remembered that little Jo was staying in a friend's house that night; he thought that that was why he had chosen that day.

But even if he did know that he would not try kill himself again because he loved them, it also made him hate them a little because now he had to live with fear, irritation. The feeling of being broken, everyday hating what he saw into the mirror. He once wondered how it was possible that the emptiness in his chest could feel so heavy and crushing, pressing down in his bones, making him exhausted, drained, inutile, but at the same time so light.

_It was their fault. This wasn't supposed to happen. He wanted it all to be over. Why had they ─_

He cleared his throat. It was always the same, always trying to fight with the guilt that slowly engulfed him when he thought of them that way, creeping inside him as it were a virus.

* * *

Rufus died on a Tuesday because of a heart attack. It was so normal and quick that it startled Sam for a moment. He never thought that he would die, or at least not like this. Not so… normal. Everything was so ordinary the day it happened: the exercise in the morning, the shower, the breakfast, the pills. A normal day in a patient's routine. Well, there had been a small difference, though, that afternoon Sam had shared his dessert with him, one thing that he had never done before. But Rufus liked that flavor of pudding in particular and his had fallen from his tray.

Rufus was supposed to leave the next day. Everything was planned and Sam had felt so alive when Rufus told him his idea, including him in it. He had acquiesced to do the distraction, he had even practiced it and all: he would act as if he were choking so all the nurses would come (some to help, but most out of curiosity), then Rufus would use the car that someone would leave outside ─another person who owed him a favor─. It would be hard with just one working leg, but there was a crossroads close to the hospital.

Everything was planned so nothing would screw it up.

After he escaped, he promised Sam that he would then see him next week close to Bobby's house to say goodbye and to drink a Johnnie Walker with him. He had told him that he had waited until that moment because he knew that weekend Sam would finally get the permission to go outside to visit his family.

He was supposed to go to Bobby's and play with little Jo, buy some books and eat edible food before going out in the night to meet Rufus and then Sam would return Monday morning after trying what Rufus said was the best thing he would ever taste.

He had even promised him to visit him occasionally.

_"I'll teach you to hunt, kid. It's always better to know more about the supernatural so you can protect yourself."_

It was so surreal to watch the nurses going to his room, shouting indications; patients hovering close, trying to see better what was happening.

* * *

Sam stayed in his room all day, curled in a ball on his bed, arms wrapped tightly around his body. His doctor told him that maybe it would be a good idea to not go out this weekend─ he knew that Rufus was his friend and the consequences his death would produce on him, worried him. Sam said that he would think about it, because it was true. He didn't feel like going out, or doing anything for that matter. He only wanted to be on his bed and be where he couldn't be hurt or hurt others.

At eleven, he remembered that Rufus hid the box for the demon's deal in the ceiling of his room. No one must have noticed or at least not yet, but Sam knew that if someone from the staff found it, it would most likely end in a trash along with his friend's wishes.

It felt right to retrieve it and to hide it under his pillow.

He told the doctor on Thursday that he wanted to go out that weekend─ wanted to leave some flowers at Rufus' grave (He was going to be buried on Friday). The doctor smiled at him and gave him the direction of the cemetery, told him that he was going to talk with Bobby and Ellen and give them some instructions for him to follow so they would not worry.

Sam accepted the offer; he would not put flowers, though. He thought that Rufus would like a blue label better. He took the box with him, passing it off as a book, and once inside Ellen and Bobby's house, he took the impala and left. It had been a little harder to convince to Bobby to let him go alone, saying that he needed some time alone, Bobby had seemed reluctant at first but accepted after Sam agreed to call every half hour, threatening that if he didn't, Bobby would hunt his ass down if he turned off the cell's GPS.

* * *

And that was why he was there burying that box in the crossroad, the small, green box that reminded him of Dean's eyes. It was rather chilly, but the brush of the wind against his face was a slightly calming as he finished a hole with sufficient room for the box. He thought that maybe wherever Rufus were he would appreciate it.

He placed his picture next to the one Rufus put because he did not want him to be alone; after all, Sam knew the emotion all too well to wish it to anybody.

Sam never thought that a demon would appear. After he finished burying the box, he stood, turned and started walking towards Rufus' grave. That was why the sound of a cough behind him startled him greatly. He looked over his shoulder and saw a very beautiful woman in a black dress standing in the same spot he had covered the hole.

"You called?" she said, smiling at him and looking appreciatively at his body.

"Um. I'm sorry, but who are you?" Sam managed to speak in an audible tone─ it was still hard to talk with people he did not know and the way she kept looking at him didn't help. It was uncomfortable.

Her eyes turned black and Sam could not avoid the gasp that escaped him. "I'm the one who will grant any wish you have." Her smile broadened as she walked slowly towards him. He tried to step back, but Sam found himself incapable to move, only being able to close his eyes when she was close, merely a few inches away from his face.

"Anything you want, sweetheart," she purred.

Sam felt chills run all over his body as he tried to fight whatever forces kept him in place. He tried to think of something but Rufus never told him what happened if he rejected a deal and he never asked because he didn't think it would be real! He tried to think of something, though, anything. But the woman kept smiling, flirting with her eyes and movements, using them as a weapon.

Sam remembered for a second the weeks after Dean and Jess died, the day he went to that diner close to Bobby's that his brother always talked about, hoping to feel something of him in there. He hadn't felt anything, in the same way he didn't feel anything when he tried to read Jess' favorite book. The only different thing was that when the waitress winked at him, he had to run to the bathroom to try to stop the gags that came before one threw up. After that he had to clean the cold sweat that covered his forehead with little pieces of toilet paper.

Couldn't she see how death followed every step he took. How disgusting he was?

A snap of fingers got him out of his thoughts. The demon was still in front of him, easy smile still plastered on her face, the amusement never leaving her features. She didn't seem to be sickened by their closeness, though perhaps the demon could see him by what he really was and that may had been why she flirted with him in the first place… maybe he already looked like a demon in her eyes. It made sense even if at the same time it made him sick.

"So what's your wish, Sammy?" Sam flinched at the nickname; he didn't even bother to ask how she knew his name. "Get the girlfriend back? Or what about your precious big brother? Mom? Maybe Dad?"

"How did you─"

She interrupted him. "You got a lot of blood in your hands, Sam. I can see it. I can taste it," she said, leaning until her lips almost brushed his. "The question is for whom you feel enough guilt?" She grinned, licking the corner of his lips with the tip of her tongue and Sam could barely swallow the broken sob that wanted to escape him. "You can even wish for me to kill you, a one way trip to Hell. Better early than later, isn't that what they say?"

"I, um, I─" Sam's voice broke and the demon threw her head back and laughed, her black eyes glinting in the soft light of the night. It was the distraction he needed; he was finally able to at least move his head. He shut his eyes tight, trying to turn away from her, but soft fingers grabbed his chin in a surprisingly strong hold, making his eyes snap open.

"Ask, Sam." Her voice indicated that she was all business now. "I've more deals to do and, unless you ask for us to sleep together, I don't think I'd like to spend too much time here." She glanced around in distaste. "I could kill you right now and avoid all trouble."

It was her tone, Sam knew, the one that made fire lit inside him, not the same kind of fire that swallowed Jess and Dean though. This one didn't burn, it energized him instead. He remembered that Rufus once told him that he didn't want to be buried; he wanted a hunter funeral.

_"Just throw me some salt until I burn to crisp, boy."_

Now his body was here against his wishes, in this cemetery. And even if it wasn't what his friend would have wanted, the place deserved the same respect he had for Rufus. He never pitied him or treated him as if he were something fragile. He treated him as a normal human being. She didn't deserve to look at this place in distaste. Not when his friend's body lay here.

"I like that expression on your face, Sammy boy," she mocked. A lazy smile on her face as her fingers lingered on her throat, lips moving close to his ear. "Finally decided for something or you want me to just kill you?"

He tried to fight against her invisible grip, groaning with every little movement he managed, but it only made her more impatient, bolder with her touch. She gripped his throat tightly, smirking at every one of his attempts, making him tired and heavy. If he hadn't fallen on his knees, it was just because of the invisible force that kept him upright.

His wrists, all his skin, prickled and itched, wanting to be scratched, wanting all to be over. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the blood pouring from his cuts, moving downwards to his hands.

Sam clenched his fists, wishing they would be free so he could clean his palms on his jeans. He tried to think in something else, but the stench of sulfur on her breath only managed to remind him of Jess and Dean, and maybe mom too, a little… Perhaps it was true that he deserved to be in Hell, to live in constant agony so he could do penance for everything that had happened because of him, it would be a little poetic when the fire of damnation started to lick his skin as they did with his family.

_I don't want to fight. I can't … I am too tired of everything._

The fire slowly left him as all the emotions he had tried to squeeze inside of him started to slowly surface. If he didn't try to entice her to break his neck, it was only because he didn't want her to kill him. He didn't want his final moments to be her eyes full of indifference and boredom, but it was true that he also didn't know if she would kill him for not wishing anything. He could not think of something he wished either; he knew that if he asked for anything and made a deal then hellhounds would come for him eventually. He should have asked Rufus more.

Rufus told him before that when it was supernatural related, you always had to pay something in exchange for every good-thing you wished, usually what you pay was something bad. But what happened if he asked for something bad? Would he receive something good? What would happen if she couldn't grant what he asked? Would she leave?

Everything was silent for a few seconds, the demon just took her time running a finger down his jaw while her other hand moved towards his wrist, trailing roughly the delicate skin with a nail, applying enough force to leave a trail of blood, her eyes always mocking at him while they did it. For some reason, Sam felt that she was reading his mind, enjoying how his thought diverted towards a darker path.

He couldn't take it anymore.

"I want Satan to be my friend," he blurted, slight determination lingering on his tone. It was the first thing that came into his mind. He didn't know if it would work until the demon's eyes widened considerably, surprise written all over her face.

"What the hell did you say?" she growled.

"You heard me." He swallowed. "That's the only thing I want and if you can't do it then we don't have a deal." He didn't want her to kill him, not her. But at the same time he didn't care, he wished for a slow death, to feel it as others killed him in anger, ripped him in pieces as the words of everything he had done were whispered against his ear. He couldn't think of anyone better than the Devil itself to cause him the pain he needed and even if Satan didn't come, the anger creeping in the demon's eyes may be enough for her to not kill him with indifference. If he kept saying things like that, maybe she would get angrier.

Sam saw a knife appearing in her hand. "And you think that someone like _you_ would ever be able to─"

"You're dismissed, Meg. I think this deal belongs to me." A smooth voice spoke a few steps away from them, surprising them both. The demon left his neck go and turned, kneeling almost too fast for Sam to catch.

"My Lord," she said respectfully. "I apologize for any interruptions. I'll kill this human and─"

"I said go," he said, never raised his voice, but the words held a power that made her flinch in fear. She shot a glare at him before she vanished. "Hello, Samuel."

His throat tightened at hearing the voice of the handsome man in front of him. He blinked. Satan was nothing of what he thought he would be like, especially with the way he was dressed: all in white. His jacket, pants, vest and tie─ everything. He surprisingly looked as any other executive in an expensive suit. If one walked past him, it wouldn't have noticed what he was, perhaps. Without looking him directly into his eyes. Those icy blue orbs held power, something alien and ancient in them, glowing faintly thanks to the light of the moon.

Sam breathed when his body was finally able to move. However, he didn't possess the strength to do anything; he couldn't even understand how he was on his feet. The stare that scrutinized him may be one of the answers, he thought. The eyes on him felt more like a physical touch that pinned him in place. Not too invasive like he previous demon were and, luckily, he hadn't try to flirt with him either ─ it was hard enough to avoid the mental breakdown that wanted to show its ugly face inside him without it.

"Not so brave anymore, Samuel?"

"Sam," he blurted. "It's only Sam."

"Okay, Sam. Would you repeat your wish to me?" Satan smiled, waiting patiently for his answer, but Sam could hardly listen what the other said with all the blood on his ears, his heart pounding almost painfully against his rib cage as adrenaline shot through his veins. He wondered if what he felt was his instinct of survival telling him to run away and search for refuge.

"I want you to be my friend." Sam surprised himself when it came louder than he imagined. He took a deep breath, his head held high as he waited for the first blow. Relief washing over him as it slowly replaced the fear ─ the tiredness was easier to ignore. He couldn't kill himself because of Bobby and Ellen, but he wanted to be selfish for the first time in a long long time.

He had tried for them, he smiled and went to see his doctor every day, never interrupting the man when he talked even when in reality he just wanted to lie on bed, to just pace around until he would fade one day from the world. He didn't have any more to offer and living would get harder now that he didn't have a friend like Rufus that could distract him from his thoughts, from the way his arm always itched. He couldn't kill himself but maybe if other, if maybe─

"Okay."

Sam blinked several times while his brain tried to process what had happened. Had he heard right? Did the Devil, the frigging Devil just said 'okay'?

"What?"

"Wasn't that what you wished for? I said okay." He chuckled and walked towards him, his movements held some unworldly grace that he would imagine better in a panther approaching its prey than something using a human's body ─ Rufus had already told him how demons used vessels to walk on earth, probably it was the same with the Devil?

"You know how we have to close the deal, right?" he asked, his hand brushing softly his cheek, face a few inches away from him. Sam didn't budge, though this time it wasn't because of some force that held him, but more for the surprise that, even if it was Satan in front of him, he didn't feel the same disgust he did feel with the demon. The only emotion he felt was that indescribable one that he was already used to feel mixed with the yelling inside his head that kept telling him to run away.

"You may call me Lucifer if we're going to be friends, Sam." His eyes were filled with amusement as he leaned closer, breath cool against his lips.

"Why? Why won't you kill me?" Sam's voice quivered as the first tears started to fall.

Lucifer's lips were brushing his as he answered with a small grin. "Because you wanted to die, but didn't ask for that."

And he kissed him, sealing the deal.


	2. My friend, Lucifer

Another tear fell down his cheek but Sam wiped it away instantly.

After making the deal, controlling his heartbeat was still a difficult task to achieve; the fact that he was driving wasn't helping either. But he had already spent a great amount of time in the cemetery and he needed to go to Bobby's or the old man was going to get worried.

He didn't even manage to go to Rufus's grave after the deal because he was ashamed, so fucking ashamed. The blue label that sat on the passenger seat kept mocking him for how he had fucked up. Rufus had told him once about how some ghosts still lurk on earth after their death because of some unfinished business and, even if Sam at the time didn't believe him, he wanted to bury the box so Rufus wouldn't have anything attached to him. Maybe that way his soul would rest in peace.

He laughed dryly.

His knuckles went white against the wheel as his grip tightened. He blinked several times in an attempt to take away the tears that were starting to make his vision blur again. His jaw hurt so much because of how strongly he was clenching his teeth. He had the urge to stop the car and throw up on some bush, to grab the bottle on his right and smash it against the floor so he could draw the pieces of broken glass hard towards his throat. He wanted to feel the peace and relief he knew he would feel as the blood slowly left his body. He probably would have died with a smile on his face then.

But he wouldn't do it because this was Dean's baby. Both of them considered the impala their home and Dean would kick his ass from his grave if he found out that he had died next to their home. Though he would also get pissed if he threw up inside.

Pressing the brakes with more force than necessary, he stopped the car next to the empty road. He stepped outside and looked at the moon that was beginning to shine above him, looking like a smile or more like a smirk that was laughing at him, at his despair. 'Stupid enough to made deal, boy?'

He sat on the dirt next to the car and took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm the knots in his stomach before he extended his arm to reach the bottle. He wanted to try it, to taste what Rufus told him. But did he deserve to drink it? To try the 'best thing' he would ever taste, knowing that if Rufus was still alive he would spend hours trying to explain him why someone doesn't simply sell his soul, how he screwed things up again.

How many times he was going to do that?

Sam walked toward the bushes and started to dig another hole, laughing as tears welled in his eyes, still feeling the grit in his nails, remembering the hole he'd dug just minutes before. Afraid of what would come next because he didn't know what Sata─ Lucifer would be like. He wasn't intrusive when he kissed him and didn't mock Sam for his fear at intimacy as he thought he would do. Their lips only brushed briefly before he backed away and told him, "We're going to see each other very soon, friend," with the faintest smile, and then he disappeared. Just leaving the echo of a flutter of wings while Sam tried to process what had just happened.

It surprised him that he hadn't cried, he had thought he would probably scream but instead he had fallen to his knees, weak as they were after all that had happened in less than a half hour. He had waited numbly in that position until he felt stronger, until his hands hadn't trembled anymore, until the desire to scratch his face and welcome the pain as an old friend had faded and he could bury his emotions again. Then he had stood, walked towards the car and started to drive. It wasn't until he had turned on the radio to avoid thinking and a stupid song had popped up that he started to feel how everything was moving away from his grasp too quickly, too painfully.

His phone rang from the glove compartment, startling him for a second from the hole he was making before he started to move towards it, tensing when he read Bobby's name on the screen. He took the phone on his unsteady hands and after taking a deep breath, he answered.

"Sam? Are you okay?" Bobby asked instantly. Sam swallowed at the wariness he heard in Bobby's tone, who spoke as if Sam was a baby with a knife between his hands. It made him feel as if he were made of glass, something fragile and small. He hated to feel like that.

He shook his head and focused in the question. Was he okay? He knew that Bobby didn't expect a 'Yes, I feel fine' but more something like 'I'm still alive and I haven't injured myself'. Technically he hadn't done any true damage to himself, or at least not physically. Could Sam tell Bobby what had happened without sounding crazy? And, how would he tell him? 'Bobby, I just sold my soul and now Satan is my friend.'

Yeah, right.

"Sam?" Bobby asked again, and this time Sam just sniffed before he answered, his voice coming out weaker than he would have liked.

"Yeah, I'm here… I'm fine." The lie felt like a weight against his shoulders, pushing him against the ground. Sam swallowed the gulp in his throat and held his phone with his left hand while he moved his right under his shirt and scratched the skin he found, piercing his nails into his ribs with force enough to hurt but not to leave a mark for too long. He just wanted to feel something that wasn't guilt. "I'm fine." He repeated stronger this time. "I just returned from Rufus' grave, you know?"

"And how are you feeling, son?" He heard the relief in Bobby's voice as the man let a breath he probably didn't know he was holding, though Sam did notice as he always did. He tried to ignore the shame and dread he felt as his hand moved up towards his armpit, scratching with a little more force the tender skin where it hurt more but wouldn't be too noticeable.

"I feel tired," he admitted. "I just want to go─" home? What home? Ellen wasn't his mother or something. "─to bed. I want to sleep." He hoped that Bobby didn't notice the brief pause.

"We'll be waiting for you, son," he only replied. "Just be careful. I can pick you up and, if you ain't feeling like it, I can read to Jo tonight."

"No, no. I want to do it," he said quickly. "I want to. I look forward to it, Bobby." To talk with someone who would treat him like a normal human being, even if that someone was just a five year old girl.

They said their respective farewells after that, and Sam barely managed not throw the phone away against a rock. He hated how careful Bobby was being lately, he hadn't heard him cursing or that similar attitude that he had liked from Rufus. But Sam wasn't stupid or naïve, he knew that it was his fault.

He placed the blue label in the hole and buried it, hoping that maybe someday he would have the courage to be able to share it with Rufus. After the dirt covered the bottle and he moved some bushes on top, he wondered for a minute if it was some kind of spell too? Maybe some leprechaun would appear or something? Sam smiled briefly at the thought as he walked towards the car, taking a few more deep breaths to calm himself before he started to drive.

* * *

Sam ate the food Ellen gave him even when his stomach didn't want him to, he then read to little Jo 'Hansel and Gretel', trying to smile while he answered the questions she asked him. The next day he did everything he could to ignore the little claw marks that the demon had left yesterday on his arm, the only proof he had that what it had happened in that crossroads was indeed real. He slept late that day, making sure he did not cry, because he didn't want anyone worried tomorrow in the morning if they saw his puffed eyes.

He did many things on Sunday to distract his mind. He ran in the morning, helped the neighbors as always did when he was at Bobby's (they were so careful around him), helped in the garage with the cars like Dean had taught him. Acted as if he was enjoying himself when Ellen took him to the library and, in the afternoon, he gave her a hand with the bar so he could return to bed tired. That way the desire to make the scratch bigger would disappear.

Most people thought that being inside a mental hospital meant that you would suffer. Nurses would always stand behind you, strict. Doctors would always treat you poorly and be cruel; patients would dance happily with a lost expression in their faces. Everything would be sad, cries would echo in the rooms while you stated repeatedly that you weren't crazy; you didn't deserve to be there. That you wanted to escape.

It wasn't like that.

They just gave you a routine and you followed it. It gave you a sense of comfort, to have your life planned when you felt like you weren't good enough to do it by yourself. Nurses left you alone most of times. Only when a patient was new and had a violent history they stayed constantly around them. Touching your door almost three times every day, doing that to give you a sense of privacy because you couldn't lock the doors. Just to see if you were okay ─alive─. You had three meals and some people were interesting. Everyone knew that there was something wrong in them, even the ones that came involuntarily at first.

Most didn't want to leave and Sam couldn't stop thinking that day how on Monday he would have to return to the hospital, the place where he didn't need to act because everyone had a problem like him, no one to judge him. He smiled against the pillow as the slumber slowly came.

"Don't worry, son. In a few months you'll be able to stay with us."

That was the last thing Ellen told him as she kissed his cheek, Bobby had his bag with books on an arm, also giving him a reassuring smile.

He felt guilty because he wanted to stay.

* * *

Tuesday was the first day Lucifer appeared. It happened almost a week after the deal while Sam took a bite of his sandwich, ignoring completely the weird mass that rested on the other plate next to it. Sam didn't think that the day had something special; nothing remarkable happened that he could remember. He even had almost forgot about the deal, the mark was fading and he was starting to think of that moment in the cemetery as an hallucination caused by Rufus' death and his inability to cope with it.

He remember having read something similar in his psychology class, so he hadn't thought that it was something important to tell his doctor because it wouldn't help him at all. Most likely, it would end in him spending more time in this place and, even if part of him wanted to be here, there was the other part that reminded him that the money spent would be better in Jo's college's savings. He just needed to complete an eight month trial period here and then he would be free, only needing to attend every session with his doctor, eat his pills and do all the things they asked him to do.

Sam already knew how he needed to act. He only needed some practice so he could start socializing with people again and, luckily for him, his doctor thought that it was time for him to try group sessions considering 'how well he had done with Rufus'. He said that he had progressed a lot and he didn't want him to erase that progress by excluding him from others. He said that this was a chance for him to 'open up'.

He hadn't punched him for speaking of Rufus' death as if it were nothing only because he was his doctor.

"That's not a good excuse to not punch someone, you know?" Sam jumped on his seat, startled at the sound and at the figure he thought, and hoped, wouldn't see again.

"Y-You are…"

"Lucifer. We met before." He flashed a smile at him and extended his arm for a handshake.

Sam didn't move, too stunned to try to make any movement. The Devil didn't seem to mind. He moved Sam's hand slowly and placed it on top of his own. Sam tried to jerk it away, surprised at the cold touch, but he found himself unable to do it, the grip didn't tighten or use any force against him, it merely held him firmly.

"I'm not very good with these so called 'human mannerisms', Sam," he stated, scrunching his nose at the word 'humans', "but even I know how important handshakes are for first meetings."

Ignoring their clasped hands, Sam looked around quickly; glad when he found the space almost empty. Chuck was in his usual corner but he seemed too engrossed in writing his story than in him. Lisa was talking with one of the nurses but she was too far away to even notice him. When the cold hand moved away, he finally turned his attention to the being in front of him. Lucifer didn't seem to care that Sam had ignored him; looking at his tray with curiosity and a hint of distaste as well. Did Satan even eat?

"No, I don't need it." He pushed a spoon into the puree, inspecting its consistency. "And I don't think this even qualifies as food."

"Were you─" Sam swallowed his nervousness. "Were you reading my mind?"

"Is that a problem?" He tilted his head and placed his hand under his chin.

"Of course." Sam furrowed his eyebrows but quickly amended himself when he remembered whom he was talking. "I mean, could─ um, could you please not do it?" Sam glanced down and shook his head; he couldn't believe what he was asking. It was Satan the one who he was talking. He frowned, or at least he thought it was Satan.

"Okay." Sam sat upright and looked directly at him. He still had those amused eyes but the difference with Meg was that he didn't look as if he was laughing at him, it was more like the fact that he was here was what amused him.

"Okay?"

"Yes, Sam. I said okay. I'm getting worried, you know, you keep repeating yourself."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you really worried?"

"Well, no." Sam blinked in surprise at the honesty, he unconsciously opened his mouth to ask, but he shut it almost instantly and decided to glance to the side. How did someone go about talking with the Devil? It was really weird to think about the being in front of him as such, considering how easy it was to speak with him. Of course it was easy once you ignored that voice in the back of your head, the one Sam was going to refer as his survival instinct. But again Sam had already tried to kill himself so it must have been almost nonexistent in the first place. Maybe it was fine to ask him things?

"Ask, Sam. If I want I will answer."

Sam's eyebrows knit in confusion. "I thought that you, um …" Lucifer waved his hand and motioned him to continue. "Were you reading my mind just now?"

"No, but you seemed nervous and I'm getting curious vibes from your soul."

What? "My soul?"

"Yes, and before you ask: No, I can't turn this off like I can with your thoughts." He grabbed his jelly and started to read the label. Sam blinked several times at how surreal was to watch him.

"And why are you telling me this?"

He placed down the little jelly and raised an eyebrow at him. "Because you asked?"

"Yes, okay, I get that. That doesn't mean that you have to answer, right?"

"Right." He said the word slowly, as if he was testing the word in his mouth and, by his look, it seemed that he didn't like it. He looked so normal and open when he talked; it was weird. Though, how would Sam really knew that he was telling the truth about not reading his thoughts and not just simply telling him that so Sam could let his guard down? Wasn't he the Father of lies? He didn't remember a lot of religious lore, he was more interested in folklore and neither Dean nor dad believed. He met Pastor Jim when he was little and went to mass with him, though only sometimes, and it didn't focus in the Devil too much.

He jumped on his seat for the second time that day when he felt cold fingers touching the back of his hand briefly. He looked upwards and saw Lucifer with two fingers still in the air. "You spaced out," he said.

"Sorry." Sam rubbed a hand against his face and saw Lucifer looking even more amused at the words. Yeah, he probably wasn't used to people saying sorry to him. It was so odd that Sam smiled a little against his hand.

* * *

Since that day Lucifer started showing up, always on different times, three or four times a week and no more than an hour. It happened when he was alone or when there were few people in the room, never when there was someone beside him. Though it wasn't like Sam talked a lot with others either, most of times he was alone and he preferred it that way too. He grew too anxious when there were many people in a room with him, uncomfortable in his own skin.

He remembered the first time he went to the group session─ before Lucifer appeared for the first time. There were five? Six people? Sam didn't pay attention, he was too concentrated in keeping his smile and in looking polite, trying to answer what was asked of him, preferring to be the one making questions so he won't talk too much, he had only listened or faked it that he did. When the nurse asked him to share, Sam talked friendly and light, many years of lying to social services finally paid off, because the others seemed to buy it.

"If they take you, they'll keep you away from each other. You don't want to do that to Dean, do you, Sam?" The statement from many years ago drifted within his memory.

He started to talk with others after the sessions too, or more like the others started to talk with him. Sam's palms were always clenched when it happened, but it kind of helped to distract him. He focused more in what to say and how to say it than in his own thoughts. His doctor approved how sociable he was getting and Sam never told him how his palms sweated or how he stayed up many hours on his bed thinking in different scenarios. How the small silent in conversations felt so long and heavy, asphyxiating.

He only smiled at the doctor and told him how glad he was of recovering.

* * *

"Isn't that book a little too simple for you?" Sam jumped and turned around to see Lucifer looking over his shoulder, a few steps away from him.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered harshly. The anger making him forget for a while who he really was. He stepped outside the room and looked at the hall for signs of Bobby or Ellen, he sighed in relief when he didn't see them.

"Visiting you, of course." Lucifer smiled, moving to stand behind him to be able to look outside too. "Isn't that what good friends do, Sam?"

Sam braced himself and swallowed. "Yeah, I get that," he murmured.

"And what are you doing today?" he asked, moving towards the pile of books Sam was cleaning. He grabbed one from a box and raised an eyebrow after he read the title. Sam smiled at the sight of what Satan was holding: 'The ugly duckling'. "Sometimes I question human creativity, you know."

"That's for kids," he said quietly. "I'm looking for books to read to Jo."

"That young girl, right?" He hummed. "Most of these are from when you were young." Lucifer mentioned, reading the label with his name glued on the book.

"Dean's too." He was lucky that he gave the box to Bobby just before the fire. Jess had thought of doing it before he and Dean decided to make that trip; take advantage of the space in the impala, though they kind of forgot about them once Sam came to live with Bobby because Jo was still too young to read at that time.

"May I borrow these?" Lucifer said, holding a comic book from one of Dean's boxes. Sam didn't want to ask 'Why?', but he really was close to do it. Luckily for him, Lucifer noticed the silent question. "I'm the protagonist here."

"Are you?"

"Yes and I'm curious to see how you humans characterize me, that's all." Sam bit his lip as he walked towards Lucifer, always wary. He looked at the comic book's title and was surprised when he read the title on the cover: 'Lucifer', showing a blonde man in a suit. Lucifer opened and started to look the pages, read some of the dialogues. It was strange the accurate description.

"You've got your own comic book?" Sam examined each word.

"I've appeared in many other forms too," he said. "This one looks promising though." Sam glanced at the other comics and noticed how the others had some sort of transparent cover protecting them from dust, but the one in Lucifer's hand was bare.

"You took the cover off?" Sam gave him his best stern tone, trying to use the height advantage he had on him. Lucifer only looked up at him, unfazed at his attitude, a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips.

He felt anger coiling in his stomach; he knew how much Dean took care of his comics. He always hid them behind their mattresses when dad came home because he thought that it was lost money, but Dean never asked for money from him anyways. He always found little jobs and used the money for food when dad didn't leave enough or when he needed to buy clothes for him. It was only when he had a few extra coins that he used them to buy the things he liked. He remembered how close to tears Dean was when his dad found out for the first time and threw them to the trash. He didn't move to save them, but Sam had managed to keep a few ones after dad left. So he glared at Lucifer, not caring who he was.

"Are you worried that I'm going to dirty them?" Actually, that wasn't the problem, Sam just wanted to take them away from Lucifer grasp, but Lucifer looked truly curious. He had never seen him like that in all the month he had gotten to know him.

He sighed. Dean had taught him to share, but he wondered if it was okay to lend his things to the Devil.

"Okay," he said. "Knock yourself out."

Lucifer's lips curled into a pleased smile, making it known how his genuine smiles looked, and Sam thought that maybe he had done something good after all.

* * *

"And, um, how is Hell?" Sam asked once while the commercials were on. They were watching a Disney movie about toys that were alive and Lucifer seemed to enjoy it, considering how he didn't ask too many questions.

"Anxious to know how your future home will be like?" Sam tried to not flinch, but he saw the little smirk on Lucifer's face so that meant that he had failed in hiding it. A thing he had learned about Lucifer is that he didn't apologize so Sam didn't bother expecting that from him. "You want to know what will happen to you? Sorry, but no spoilers."

Sam snorted. "Where did you even learn that word?"

He went still and clenched his fists in fear involuntarily when the final words left his mouth. He felt something cold brushing at his shoulder, but by the time he looked behind his back the touch was gone even if the sensation still lingered. It seemed to go through his body, calming him. He shuddered.

Sam took a deep breath and glanced at his side warily. Lucifer wasn't watching him; he was still next to him on the couch in his pristine white suit with his attention on the TV. Though that didn't mean that he was ignoring Sam if his satisfied grin didn't serve as proof enough. Sam let a breath he was holding and from his peripheral vision saw how his companion glanced at his direction.

"I was just curious," Sam murmured as an apology and placed his legs against his chest. He stayed quiet after that, just watching the movie without paying too much attention. He couldn't avoid how that little retort he made reminded him of a memory with Dean. It happened when he was doing his homework on the couch next to his brother while he watched the TV. He couldn't remember what word Dean had used that moment, he only recalled the surprise he felt. His brother' cheeks were pink as he scowled at him, trying to sound offended as he ruffled his hair and said 'What? I can't know fancy words or something, bitch?'

'Jerk' Sam thought, answering the Dean of his memory, smiling sadly against his arm. He missed his brother too much. He didn't think he would have survived without him those years after Dad died and they were lucky that Dean had enough age for the social services to not intervene and Bobby was willing to help them. But because of their situation, Dean had to work. If he hadn't told him a year before the accident that he wanted to go to Stanford maybe Dean wouldn't have worked so many hours to pay for his studies. His brother was really sure that he would be able to enter college with the grades he had.

They went to a bar to celebrate the day he got the acceptance letter for college, all paid. He tasted his first beer that time. And then the grade on his SAT was good enough to get him a scholarship in Stanford too. Dean came to California the weekend before his interview to help him calm down. Jess, his girlfriend, thought it was a good idea. He was going to ask her to marry him the day after his interview and she didn't know that he was planning in buying a ring for her with Dean in their trip. Dean whistled when he saw the ring Sam chose and smiled at him proudly. They slept in a motel because he thought that driving drunk wasn't a good idea, considering what had happened to their dad ─his fault too─. And then it happened.

"I have what you humans would call a secretary," Lucifer said. "Though, he's more like one of my generals." Sam's head snapped to attention as he turned to look Lucifer with widened eyes. "I don't have a second hand in command because demons tend to be cunning; only interested in obtaining more power." Lucifer crunched his nose in disgust. "It wouldn't surprise me if some were trying to search for a way to back stab me, so they could get the crown of Hell for themselves."

"What─?"

"He goes by the name of Crowley." He ignored him. "I found him a few days ago making deals without giving all the necessary forms for that, keeping the souls to himself." Lucifer scoffed, a smirk curling on his lips. "So I got his tailor eaten by my hellhounds and then they munched him a bit, just for fun."

"Are you trying to cheer me up?" Sam asked after a few moments of silence.

"Is it working?" Lucifer's expression was of boredom but after years of looking at his face in the mirror, trying to learn how to hide his emotions, he was an expert to see in others what they were trying to hide, and he saw a hint of curiosity in Lucifer's eyes. Though it was like he wasn't trying to hide it and more like, it was just something small.

"Why?"

"I can't enjoy this movie with you moping next to me." Sam snorted but he saw that it was true. "I can see and feel your soul, Sam. If I wanted to see more souls lamenting then I'd have stayed in Hell."

"You're in a mental ward, believe me, here you won't find cheerful people."

"It's not like I enjoy being around humans." He glanced around. "But it's fun to watch some of them struggling to fit, trying to fix themselves. Their hope makes it amusing; there isn't that kind of hope in Hell."

"So I'm just fun for you?" Sam arched an eyebrow, surprised that it didn't bother him much what Lucifer said. Though, lately, there were just a few things that he cared about, he was more curious at why Lucifer was doing this, visiting him when he could do whatever he wanted.

"Most of the time, yes." Lucifer nodded. "When you're not moping."

"So… you like me?"

"I wouldn't call it that, more like I can stand you." Lucifer smiled at him like what he just said was the best compliment ever. Maybe it was considering how much he kept saying how he didn't like humans. Sam tried to return the smile, but Lucifer just waved his hand dismissively. "Don't even try it's sad to watch you smile."

He crossed his arms against his chest and puffed a little. "For the father of lies you're way too honest." He didn't even care if what he said had offended him, he had tried to smile at the Devil, he should at least appreciate the gesture.

"Who knew that the boy had some attitude?" Sam flinched a little but didn't apologize. "And so you know, I don't lie."

Sam now turned his head completely and gave him his best incredulous face. "Really?"

"Sometimes the truth can hurt more than lies. I always say the truth some don't wish to acknowledge, but they keep claiming that they're lies."

Sam turned completely to saw him better. "So you're telling me that you've never lied?"

"Well, I may have twisted some truths to my benefit." Sam chuckled when he saw how Lucifer was inspecting his fingers with a pleased smile. He wondered what he was remembering.

He opened his mouth to reply and keep asking questions now that Lucifer seemed to be in a good mood, but he heard someone calling him from behind. He looked over his shoulder and saw a nurse holding a tray with meds under the door frame. It was late so he couldn't see his face, only his silhouette.

"It's time for you to take your pills, Sam." Sam turned quickly at the seat next to him, but didn't find Lucifer there. He sighed in relief; he didn't want to explain how a non-patient was in there.

"Thanks, Roger."

He stood up and left the room, not bothering in turning off the TV in case Lucifer returned. While he drank his cup of water after taking his pills, he shuddered, thinking in how easy it was turning to talk with Lucifer. He wasn't the kind of guy someone would want to be friends with. He wasn't even a guy. But he had already made the deal, he couldn't back down now.

* * *

Lucifer wasn't what Sam thought he would be, for starts, he was less terrifying. He had never seen him displaying power or killing someone, though that didn't mean that Sam didn't notice how powerful he was. You could almost feel the power emanating the air just by being close to him. When he got annoyed, it was a little hard to breath but Sam knew that he did it unconsciously. Lucifer was more like a regular CEO, often complaining about how stupid his employees were.

"But didn't you create them or something?"

"Just the first ones and they're smarter." This time Lucifer was on top of his shelf, reading one of his books while Sam tried to sleep. It was weird to think about how quickly their 'friendship' had developed.

"Um… the first ones?"

He glanced at him and tilted his head. "You're repeating my answers again, Sam."

"Sorry, I mean, how even demons are born? Because from what you told me I can infer that there are a lot." Lucifer closed the book and placed the object on his lap, moving the palm of his hand under his chin. He looked as if he were in deep thought. "Is something I'm not supposed to know?"

"Not necessarily." Sam sat on his bed and watched Lucifer in expectation, but he didn't continue.

"Um, Luci-"

Lucifer smiled, but there was something weird in his expression. "Story time then, Sammy."

Sam swallowed his retort at the nickname; instead, he focused in what Lucifer would say. He felt his curiosity prickle for the first time in months when he started talking. Lucifer's voice was a smooth low rumble, almost hypnotic when he wanted to get a point across, engrossing him even more into paying attention. He had also a manner of speaking that made you able to picture clearly everything he said. That probably was why he felt even sicker when he started explaining how demons were truly born, how the human soul decayed to that level.

Sam knew that Lucifer wasn't lying or just telling him that to terrify him about what would happen in ten years, because when his chest felt too tight and the urge to throw up grew to uncomfortable levels, he stopped talking, waiting for Sam to take a deep breath before asking, "Want me to continue?"

Lucifer left after he finished telling him how time and torture worked in Hell, saying that he had to reschedule some things. Sam thought that he probably wanted to give him some space, but he pushed that thought aside, concentrating instead in not biting the inside of his cheek with too much force. The thought about how even if he hadn't sold his soul he was designated to Hell didn't help him to relax either.

He just lay on the bed in a fetal position, tucking his hands between his tights, trying to not glance at the pencil in front of him that he managed to hide inside his book from his group session. He had just wanted to write some stuff down and took it, not realizing how easy would be to press it against his skin. Though, this time he didn't want to kill himself, he just needed some proof that he was alive and the pain usually helped.

He moved far away, curling into a ball in the corner with his back touching the wall.

Lucifer appeared an hour after he left and sat next to him with the same book he was previously reading on his lap; the lack of light didn't seem to bother him. He sighed in relief because with Lucifer body seating in that position, he wasn't able to see the pencil. Sam was also glad for the company, too. So, not looking away from Lucifer's face, he moved closer to his cold body; the only indication that he was scared was the shallow breaths of his labored respiration.

Lucifer didn't do anything when his face brushed the soft material of his suit, nor when he buried his nose against it. He just kept reading in silence, too quickly for a normal human to follow. Sam closed his eyes with the sound of turning pages as a lullaby and the power Lucifer emanated as a blanked, afraid that this comfort was a dream and that he would need to wake up soon.

He thought that the cool hand he felt brushing on his hair while he drifted into sleep was just part of his imagination too.

* * *

It was in the seventh month (almost three months after Rufus' death) that his doctor told him that he was going to change his meds. It scared him so much when it happened, because he only took antidepressants and sometimes the sleeping pills, only taking the second ones the first month and, after that, just when his doctor told him to. The dose of the antidepressants were reduced after the second month, though they increased the dose a bit weeks after Rufus's death. It was obvious that the doctor tried to be gentle about the subject and that was what scared him even more.

He had tried to act normal. He had done what everyone in his sane mind would do. The entire time. Was his act that easy to look through?

Sam looked down and ran both hands through his hair, leaning both elbows on his knees. He took a shaky breath before glancing at the doctor, remembering that he needed to keep his act together for a little more time. He shouldn't be scowling at himself; he was losing it in front of the most important man—the one that held his freedom.

"If I'm allowed to ask, Dr. Simigh. Why are you increasing my, um…" Sam deflated as he talked, even with all the practice he got from his session group, it was still hard to talk. And it was worse when the conversation drained him emotionally.

"Sam." He felt a gentle touch on the hand that wasn't supporting his head's weight. The smile he found on his doctor when he glanced at him was supposed to be comforting, but Sam could see the condescending hint in his eyes too. He tried to return the smile, instead of snarling like he wanted to. "You've been sleeping four hours per day, that's why I'm reestablishing your sleeping pills again. It's important for you to sleep."

"And the anti-psychotics?"

"It's for prevention mostly." He took his hand away. "I know you want to return with your family after your trial period here, and I've seen how much you've progressed from your first weeks. It's just a mild dose."

Sam pursed his lips. He wasn't going to cry.

"Have you," he started. "Have you told Bobby and Ellen about this?"

"Not yet," he said and looked to the small notebook with his notes. "I'm going to give you generic pills. I just want to confirm something, but it may be just your restlessness causing it, Sam."

"But you will?" Sam pleaded, his tone made the doctor look at him.

"I have to. You need to stay here until I see that it's working."

He then gave him his pills and he was relieved by how tired they left him almost immediately, because he didn't like to think about what he would have done if he had the energy to do anything. His mind was too weary to even think as he walked towards his bed.

* * *

"I swear that demons can be really stupid, sometimes I just want to snap my fingers and get everything over," Lucifer said immediately after appearing on the chair next to his bed. "Or feed then to my hellhounds."

"Your hellhounds?" Sam yawned, rubbing his eyes and feeling a little more confused than usual. He stretched his arms and a hand touched accidentally Lucifer's thigh. Sam looked up at him.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked when Sam tried to stand up but his head was way too heavy to even try to move it.

"Sleeping pills. They make me dizzy."

"Yes, I can see that, but why are you taking them?" Sam moved the arm that currently shielded his eyes towards the back of his head. But he heard that the curiosity in Lucifer was honest.

"Um, because I need to sleep?" He almost face palmed at the stupid answer he gave, Lucifer's face was clearly saying 'No shit, Sherlock'. He blamed the pills. "I mean, a person needs to sleep because it can affect negatively the brain if they don't do it, ugh, eight hours is the correct time that one needs to-"

"I know what the human body needs, Sam. I was asking why you are taking them." At Sam's dumbfounded expression, he sighed and continued. "You're already used to sleep little; your body is used to four, five hours."

Sam slowly turned and blinked owlishly at him, he probably was giving Lucifer some weird look, as if he just had told Sam the meaning of life or something of the same degree because his friend had that sparkle of amusement in his eyes that he often saw when he had done something Lucifer considered funny.

Wait. Had he just called Lucifer, the Devil, his friend? Sam tried to remember what he had thought a second ago and snorted when he realized that yes, he had done that. And again, he blamed the pills.

"Do I want to ask why are you making that weird sound?"

"You're Satan." Sam managed to answer as he sat on the bed, laughing at his odd situation. The laugh grew even more when he saw the surprised expression Lucifer had, and before he knew it, he was giggling. His mind always felt light the first moments he woke after taking sleep pills but never like this. He didn't know if it was because the other pills or just Lucifer but even so, it had passed more than a year without him laughing and he kind of missed to do it.

He looked upwards, his laugh dying quietly in his throat when he felt cold fingers brushing his jaw as he noticed that Lucifer's face was mere inches away from his own. If Sam hadn't moved away, it was mostly because his brain still couldn't process things too fast. He blinked and tried to swallow his nervousness but his mouth felt suddenly too dry. Sam remembered for a second the first time he saw him, the power that his eyes possessed hadn't diminished at all, it still had the ability to pin him down.

Lucifer's eyes had that silver flash that he sometimes could still see when the sunlight hit Lucifer's body, a peculiar spark that Sam had always found strange to see in the devil. He always tried to ignore how it made Lucifer's usual icy blue eyes glow, all his demeanor change, as if he were an angel. It was harder to ignore it while being at this distance.

Sam's eyes flicked unconsciously between his eyes and lips, feeling a soft blush creeping into his cheeks when he noticed what he had done. He didn't seem to mind, not even when Sam's mouth parted when Lucifer tilted his head.

"What a peculiar thing you are," he said, eyebrows slightly furrowing. Sam felt his face almost on fire by the time he smirked and slowly backed off.

"I'm hungry." Sam blurted and stood up too quickly, almost stumbling on his feet, but Lucifer managed to catch him from his arm. Sam shivered at the contact of Lucifer's cool skin. He didn't turn to look at him and kept walking, ignoring the strange looks he got in the hall and how fast his chest pounded.

* * *

"You should try it." Sam said gesturing at his pudding. "It's the only good thing they serve."

"Then why would you offer it to me?"

"Because you've never tried any food and that's the only good thing I've at the moment that would probably change your mind," Sam answered before taking a sip of his drink.

"Want to change my mind, Sam?" Lucifer asked clearly amused. Sam felt his cheeks warming as he smiled, but he kept moving the little package in his direction with his left hand.

"It won't kill you." Sam stopped pushing the pudding and raised an eyebrow. "Or will it?"

"Yes, Sam. You found my true weakness," he said sardonically, grabbing the spoon from his bowl with mashed potatoes and pointing it at him. "Pudding."

Sam laughed and accidentally pushed the pudding with too much force, making it fall from the table. Douche.

"I just felt that you insulted me." Sam sat upright and looked directly at Lucifer, pudding forgotten.

"Were you reading my mind?"

"So you were!" Lucifer exclaimed, a satisfied grin on his lips. "And no, I told you before that I wouldn't do it."

"But why?" Sam frowned and this time he asked with more conviction than the first time. The last time he didn't feel too comfortable and was scared of what Lucifer would do to him, but now that they had some sort of friendship he was more confident.

"We're friends, aren't we?"

"I don't like how you stretch the word that way, and you have to admit that we weren't before." Lucifer slowly leaned on his chair a big toothy grin on his face, waving around the little spoon. Sam could hear his heartbeat pounding on his ears as he tried to not return the smile.

"So we are now friends?" he asked slowly, almost seductively.

Oh, god.

Sam returned his gaze to his food. "I'm serious."

Lucifer chuckled but he sat correctly again. "I respect consent, you know," he finally said.

Sam was surprised at the tone Lucifer had used. It had the kind of superiority his words sometimes held, but there was something different this time too. "You do?" he asked.

"Of course, it's part of my nature." Well, now that he thought about it ─And he didn't want to─, he was pretty sure that if that demon on the crossroads could grab his soul and get away with it, she'd have done it. Instead, she needed him to accept the deal. Perhaps it was part of their nature after all.

He scratched the back of his neck, feeling that he was forgetting something. "I've got to admit that I never thought that consent was something important to demons."

"Demons don't need consent, Sam." Lucifer's tone was a little hard and Sam couldn't avoid not looking up at him.

"But that demon, Meg, needed my consent to─"

"Deals are different. It is your soul that they're bargaining, after all." Sam noticed how annoyed Lucifer was getting and couldn't ignore how his mind clouded in guilt as he looked down.

"Then why did you tell me that─"

"Hello. I'm sorry but I think this is yours?" Sam jumped in surprise and looked at his left, noticing for the first time the woman in nurse uniform he had never seen before that stood there, a sealed pudding on her palm. He frowned and grabbed the package. "Um, thanks…?"

"Magdolna. I'm an intern here."

"Oh. Well, thanks then, Magdolna." He repeated the strange name and was glad when she nodded, signaling that he had gotten it right. She glanced at his table with a tight smile, eyes lingering towards his table. He was going to ask her what was wrong but she talked first.

"You don't have a spoon," she said. "Do you wish me to bring you one? It's not a problem."

Sam blinked at her and frowned, finally looking at his table. He was surprised when he found Lucifer's pissed eyes in front of him, his spoon still in his hold.

"I have it," Lucifer said. Sam looked between the nurse and Lucifer. It was obvious that she hadn't heard him.

"I, um. Don't worry, thanks." He took a deep breath and glanced away. "I need to stand up and go for my pills anyway."

"Okay. See you later." Sam waited until she was a few feet away before he leaned on the table and grabbed his head between his hands, scratching his scalp with his short nails. He hated that they had to always cut his nails. He hated that in that precise moment so much.

'You need to stay here until I see that it's working.' The words echoed in his head.

"Sam?" Lucifer asked, but he couldn't look at him. Not in that moment. He stood up and went to his room, not glancing back. His muscles felt too tense and he needed to do something, anything, to calm himself. He scratched his arm with all the force he could gather as he walked, entering quickly into his room, closing the door, and leaning into it, not forgetting to put his weight against it. He didn't want anyone to open it.

He breathed heavily and too fast for his liking. His lungs burnt, his throat closed: It felt like drowning. He blinked the tears away and searched for his notebook. His hands were trembling too hard that he threw the pencil to the floor accidentally when he found it. He didn't give it too much attention as he sat there and grabbed the pencil from the floor and held it in the air as he pushed his shirt off; he slammed the tip on his skin the same time he heard the flutter he since long ago associated it with Lucifer. He breathed in relief, just concentrating in the pain. In what he could control.

"Sam!" Lucifer knelt in front of him and grabbed his right arm, stopping him from moving the pencil. "What's wrong with─"

Sam didn't let him finish, he used his left hand to punch him in the face. He moved away but Sam's knuckles still brushed his chin, breaking his bones. He groaned and pressed his injured hand against his chest. Lucifer touched gently his hand and healed him, ignoring the sob Sam that bubbled up in his throat at the loss of pain. He held both of his hands and pressed them against his chest, squeezing Sam into a hug that was difficult to get away. It felt like there was a metal rope around him, making it impossible for him to move.

He finally stopped struggling when he felt how something, not entirely liquid, washed over him; like the sun rays in those warm days, soft and gentle. The contrast between Lucifer's skin and the light that seemed to engulf him slowly was amazing and calming. He relaxed in Lucifer's arms, feeling how he moved his left hand to his side and healed his first injury too, throwing the pencil away. Sam let a watery laugh against the white suit where he was pressing his face; that little display of power was proof enough for him to know that Lucifer was real. He moved his head until it rested on the crook of Lucifer's neck, wanting to feel something cold against his forehead.

"Sam?" he asked, his tone uncharacteristically soft and gentle. Worried too.

"They think I'm having hallucinations," he said between sobs. "They must have seen me talking with you and thinking that I- I… I haven't talked with Ellen or Bobby about it, but I know that they know. That I need to stay more time here."

Lucifer didn't say anything, but he felt how he tensed. It was the first time Sam realized that this wasn't his body; no one could be this still, it felt like a statue was hugging him and it didn't help that he didn't say anything. Sam's uneasiness grew in the silence.

He started pressing his nails against his palm, more of a nervous habit than with the intention of hurting himself. The urge he felt of causing himself pain had faded, it felt numb inside him and he thought that it might be Lucifer's influence, because this calm felt too unnatural.

Lucifer sat upright and backed off a little, grabbing his fingers to stop him from scratching his palms. He looked at him in the eye and seemed a slightly nervous as he opened his mouth.

"I want to make another deal." Sam blurted, stopping him from talking, blinking the tears away from his eyes. "Erase the memory of me from others and you can take my soul down to Hell. Immediately. Bobby, Ellen, J-"

Lucifer covered his mouth with his right hand.

"I said that if I wanted to be around moping people I'd have stayed in Hell, Sam," he said calmly. "Could you let me finish what I want to say?" Lucifer waited for him to do something, so he nodded. "First of all, I'm an angel. A fallen one, but still an angel. I'm surprised that you didn't know that, actually." He talked while he settled Sam's shirt on its place, always looking directly at him. "And second, I apologize for the problems I've caused you."

Sam's eyes widened at the words. He blinked several times and thought for a moment that this was a dream. "Don't act so surprised…" He trailed off, tilting his head with a strange shade of mirth dancing in his eyes. "We aren't that close that I would want to flatter you much. Your healing psyche might not be able to take it."

Sam snorted and Lucifer finally took his hand away frowning at his palm covered in…

"Oh, sorry!" He tried to stand up and search for something to clean, preferably some napkins, but Lucifer grabbed his arm to stop him. He looked at him and saw how he waved his hand and all the fluids that were once there simply disappeared, the wet spots on his suit that Sam had also stained with tears were gone too.

"Whoa." Sam blinked and touched his face, feeling his skin dry and clean; he couldn't even feel the stubble he had since two days ago. He moved his hands cautiously to his eyebrows and─

"I still left your eyebrows." Lucifer sounded a little offended. "And your hair too," he added.

Sam smiled at him and mouthed a 'thanks'. Lucifer smirked and gestured the spot with his hand in front of him, waiting for Sam to sit there.

"The deal still stands." Sam said once he sat, even if he was clean and felt calmer, his voice came weak.

"I don't want it." Was his simple answer. "You already made a deal with me, Sam. And I'll make sure that no other demon tries to make a deal with you, so don't even try it." Lucifer leaned too close for Sam's comfort. "Your soul already belongs to me."

Sam cleared his throat and tried to not make eye contact with him, looking everywhere instead, but he could feel clearly Lucifer's stare on him. Incapable of ignoring him anymore, he glanced at him from the corner of his eye and saw how his smile widened with every movement Sam made, leaning involuntarily towards him. Lucifer held a hand up, moving it towards his jaw.

"So…" Sam licked his lips, feeling the soft caress of breath against his skin.

"Ten years, that was the deal." He shivered at the contact of Lucifer's cool breath on his skin, his half lidded eyes on him. Sam smiled slightly when he felt their noses brush. He clenched his fist, decision made and was ready to close the distance between them, but then Lucifer suddenly moved his head to the right, frowning as he glanced down. The light touch on his jaw was still gentle when he turned to look at him again. "Would you promise me to be good for a while?"

"... What?"

"Demons." He scrunched his nose at the word, his eyes wandering down. It was as if he was seeing something on the floor, something that had personally offended him.

"Lucif-?"

He disappeared. Sam looked around and sighed when he noticed that he wasn't going to return anytime soon. He pressed his head against his legs when the realization of what had happened crushed on him. He was going to kiss Lucifer. "He's still a douche," he spoke in the empty room.

He rubbed his face and was ready to stand, finish his food, and maybe have a panic attack later. But he noticed that there was a crayon in the place where his pencil had fallen.

"Very funny," he said, and grabbed the white crayon.


	3. Ups and Downs

"My lord, I don-"

"Isn't it curious?" Lucifer interrupted him as his grip on the demon's throat tightened, fingers digging right into the soft flesh, pushing past skin as it was nothing. "I'm almost taking your throat out of this body, yet somehow you manage to be able to talk."

The demon writhed, whimpering as his hands covered in crimson tried to hold from the sleeves of Lucifer's white suit, searching for something to grab in the sheer desperation he felt. Though once he saw the power that lit his eyes, he pulled his hands away as if electricity had ran through his body, choosing instead to flap his arms around while he drowned in his own blood.

"Oh, come on. You're supposed to be a demon," Lucifer huffed, tracing a bloody finger against the demon's sternum. "I should kill you just for the pathetic sight you're to my eyes." More sobs escaped him, hiccups bubbled up in the demon's throat as his breathing became irregular.

His brow wrinkled at the sight, he preferred when they cried in horror than this way. He threw the body against a wall in disgust. Waving a hand, he cleaned his suit as well as fixing the demon's vocal cords; he didn't do anything to fix his other injuries though. They were the only thing that made Lucifer put up with this being.

"Now, will you tell me who is the one that's planning to backstab me? Who knows, maybe I will let you live." He walked forwards, a wicked grin plastered on his face. "Or should we start playing again?"

Actually, he didn't want to spend any more time with this being, nor he wanted to prolong his stay in Hell. He had already been there for more time that he would have liked, the cries of the tortures going on around him started to sound dull, not satisfying enough. He was worried too─ Sam needed him and he didn't want to leave him alone. He didn't think that the brush of grace he had used to calm him would . It was a strange feeling, something he thought he would not feel again.

He hummed. It was started to concern him how much he was getting attached to that human.

But not many demons knew that he had some sort of omnipotence in Hell, they didn't know that Lucifer could see and hear everything that happened down there. Didn't know that Hell was more like an extension of him, shaping at his liking, making him notice when the demon, the one that now sobbed in pain, tried to convince others to join into his cause. Which, unsurprisingly, consisted in killing him.

At first he hadn't noticed, the demon was hidden from his eyes, so was only able heard the other side of the conversation. He was used to hearing his brothers and sisters inside his head, always constant chattering going around. God created angels to understand many things at the same time: 'multitask'. And even if being with Sam made the chatter he always heard, subside, making him focus into him and his presence, the one sided conversation he heard from downstairs stood up from others. His grace unconsciously picking it up as important. It only took a flicker of time to deduce what was happening.

He tilted his head, placing his foot on top of the demon's cheek to stop him from coughing. He could still see clearly Sam in front of him, soul shivering with nervousness and yearn as it stirred closer to his grace, moving near as where his body would let him. Full of a warm and affection he hadn't felt in so long. Lucifer wanted it. Craved to touch it, wrap his grace within it and bask himself into the emotion.

But if he hadn't stepped down at that moment to show an example, then things would have escalated too quickly and threateningly. They would start thinking that it was fine to confabulate behind his back. He couldn't let that happen. So he flew before Sam's presence would help him create more reasons to stay.

His annoyance only grew when he realized that he would need to use torture to get the information he wanted, something that it was more of a hobby than a job. It felt like he was cheating in some way, but it was a necessity since that demon had fused with its own meatsuit to be able to use an especial protection against angels. He was truly curious at how he had gotten that knowledge. He hadn't like it, but he needed to use some primitive tactics to obtain what he wanted, because it seemed the protection was strong enough that not even Lucifer was able to read his thoughts, besides hiding him from his eyes.

And as the humans like to say: If you want a job well done, you've to do it yourself.

It was very problematic when you ruled a place where you couldn't trust anyone.

He took his foot away, hearing the cough subside. "You may let me live?" the demon rasped, finally managing to talk even with the blood he had spluttered from inside him. "And you wonder why I was planning to go against you? Look at yourself, Lucifer!"

The archangel arched an unimpressed eyebrow.

"How soft the Great Deceiver has turned!" he spat. "When you created us, you promised us Paradise! And after all the centuries we've waited for your return, you came! Is this your─" Lucifer shushed him with a gesture, burning slowly his lungs from the inside.

"I asked you who is the one that's planning behind my back. Nothing else." The demon's eyes bulged at the lack of oxygen; they didn't need it in order to function, but it seemed that torture was easier after the demon's 'soul' was one with a body. He didn't seem to be able to shut some of the biological functions, letting them in control and reducing him at the same level of humans.

He created new lungs for the demon's body, ready to ask again, but the vibration that came from the link he thought was lost, stopped him

"Lucifer." The voice echoed in his mind, ringing in dazzling and gracious tones he hadn't heard in a long time. Lucifer closed his eyes, hoping to hear more of that exquisite melody in which his name was pronounced, but silence only answered him. The only thing he was able to hear came from the demon that kept babbling in front of him.

"Shut up," Lucifer whispered, his true voice leaking. The demon just kept babbling in cries even as his ears started to bleed.

"…and you shall f-!"

Lucifer ripped the soul out of that body, watching with satisfaction how it tore painfully from the seams that seemed to knit it at the body. Once the wounded black smoke was throbbing on the palm of his hand, he briefly wondered how to kill it. He demised the idea to waste any more time in it and chose instead to burn it slowly as if it were a match, starting a spark in its core and seeing how it expanded, making a soft howl as it distinguished.

His lips moved downwards and he frowned at his hand, annoyed at his own behavior. He had killed that demon just because he was pissed at him for making noise, and therefore failing in obtain the information he wanted. It was almost embarrassing; letting himself get distracted simply by the way his name had been─

"Brother, may I see you?" Michael spoke once again in the channel that only archangels could hear. He decided to enjoy his brother's voice for a moment before letting himself consider the words, after all, almost a decade had passed since the last time they've talked and even if he was still angry at Michael and wished to hate the archangel with the same fervor his hatred towards his father was, he simply couldn't. Or at least, not completely.

Lucifer let his head fall at the side after a few seconds had passed without Michael mentioning where he planned to meet him. He wanted to ask but didn't want to give Michael and his other brothers the privilege of hearing his voice once again.

He was going to shrug Michael's request off and go instead to Sam's side to see if he was fine, but the moment he extended his wings to fly he felt a presence on earth, powerful enough to only belong to one being. Lucifer considered his options and decided to see Michael instead, his brother didn't come to earth unless it was important and he didn't want to waste the chance in case Michael wanted something from him, because it would meant that his brother would owe him.

Still, he took a brief detour and went to check on Sam.

He stood in the middle of the room the hospital had offered to Sam. Without making his presence shown, he saw him lying on his bed as he tried to sleep. There was uneasiness in his soul that hadn't been there before, or at least not at that degree. Lucifer brushed his wing on Sam's side as he had done that same morning, in an attempt to calm him, but Sam opened his eyes and sat upright at the contact. He started to look frankly around, his soul shivering in thrill. The archangel's eyes merely widened in surprise, amused at the actions of that little living light.

He hadn't thought, not even for a second, that Sam would be able to acknowledge his presence, not when he was cloaked from this plane as he was. Perhaps Sam's reaction had been a response at the cold that usually came with Lucifer's touch. But then to proved him again wrong, Sam sat against the wall of the room and called for him, "Lucifer?" he said, unsure and embarrassed.

The boy licked his lips and frowned, looking suspiciously around, slower this time as if he were waiting for something to happen. His lips thinned when he glanced down, finally resigning at the thought that there wasn't anyone there. He moved slowly, leaning against his elbow as he lied on the bed again, curling at his side as he brushed his hand on the same spot his wing had touched.

Lucifer hadn't showed himself at Sam not because he didn't want to, but because he realized that he wanted to. But he knew that if he did show to Sam it would only make him delay his reunion with Michael ─ he wasn't so thrilled to see his brother again but he couldn't deny that it was more important than to check on a problematic human, one who was stupid enough to call at his name as if it was a pray. It wasn't the same feeling he had felt at hearing his brother's voice saying his name, but he wouldn't deny that he was pleased that Sam, a human that had become someone close to him, had been able to recognize his touch. In fact, he wished to puff his wings in pride because of it.

And now, he wanted to sigh─ he wondered if this was what humans felt before sighing in frustration. He had seen Sam do it, but never wanted to do it himself. It was an unusual feeling.

"Lucifer?" Michael asked again, and Lucifer couldn't find any excuse for him to stay any longer in the small room. With one more look to Sam's curling form, he flew.

* * *

"Michael," he greeted his brother. Michael was giving him the back, wearing a male vessel this time, a different from the one he wore when he saw him for the first time in millennia. The female vessel of that time made Michael look more gracious, the soft curves and small form contrasting the great sharpness of his grace. Lucifer never knew if Michael was 'rubbing on his face' how great was the difference between them or not. He knew he looked hideous after managing to destroy that Cage in contrast with Michael's pure grace.

Lucifer looked around; he wasn't surprised that their encounter took place in the cold lands of the Antarctica. It was obvious considering how secluded it was. He was a little taken aback tough, to see the aurora that illuminated them from above. It had been a while since he had enjoyed the beauty that earth's nature had to offer. It reminded him of the early days when he was just a fledgling, sitting in burning stars as he and his brothers watched the universe expand and evolve.

"Feeling nostalgic, brother?" Lucifer added pointing up to signal the sky. He knew that Michael's thoughts and his would wander at the same place.

"Probably." Michael answered turning to look at him, his wings following the same fluid movement. "After all, it has been more than a decade since the last time we have seen each other."

"I can't imagine what torture you've been through without seeing me." Lucifer scoffed. "I wonder how it must felt not seeing one of your own kin for a long time."

Michael just gave him a look that Lucifer couldn't describe, but it was one he had seen mothers give to their child when they pouted stubbornly. It made his grace flare in annoyance.

"You have been spending more time on earth; I thought you said that you did not have any interest in humanity." Michael said, ignoring his previous comment.

"I don't see how that's one of your business." He shrugged easily one wing.

"That is not an answer." Michael replied, his frown deepening. He attempted to walk towards him, but Lucifer held a palm high.

"I don't plan to destroy mankind if that's what you're afraid of. We had a deal; I gave you my word. Can we just enjoy the glorious view in front of us and not fight for once?" Lucifer asked, sarcasm clear in his tone, but Michael's didn't seem to grasp what he meant.

"Indeed, it is beautiful," he said instead, frowning in confusion before glancing up. "Do you remember the first time they appeared on the sky?"

He sneered. "As if I could forget anything."

Michael ignored him, choosing to unfold his wings from his back instead. He changed the magnetic field on them, reaching the maximum extend they'd be able to obtain in a vessel as dragged part of the aurora to dance around his appendages. Lucifer could taste the change in oxygen and nitrogen in the air apart from Michael's grace as he continued: Lucifer could only compare it with the raw feeling of Creation's power. That moment when they waited quietly in the nothing for the energy to finally burst and for their Father to begin all.

Michael always felt like that moment of suspense before this universe was created. And not even that description would be enough to compare his grace.

"Gabriel and Raphael loved when I taught them this trick." Michael kept moving his wings in what he would have called a playful gesture. Lucifer's feathers twitched, remembering those times they would brush their wings together, creating, and destroying new constellations with the sheer power of the coalition. The colors they managed to obtain were more exquisite than the ones on the sky. He longed to touch, to walk closer to his brother, and enjoy the familiarity he knew he would feel. "You never could." The words stopped him. "The brilliance of your wings made it almost impossible."

"You came for something." Lucifer said tightly, the fire of his wings hammering at his exasperation, melting the ice around him. "Speak, Michael. Stop playing."

"Never giving a chance to redeem and forgive," he murmured. "One would say that you have not changed, brother."

"I never change." Lucifer spat, glancing briefly away from Michael.

"Is that so?" Michael looked steadily at him as he started to walk closer. "Then the rumors I have heard about you spending more time on earth were lies?"

"Have you been gossiping, brother?" Lucifer mocked and turned. It wouldn't have surprised him if Michael told him that there were angels supervising him. He had already felt them sometimes, trying to cloak themselves from him. Michael wasn't a fool; he knew that Lucifer was too powerful to not notice. That just meant that he wanted to see his reaction. He was testing him.

With furrowed eyebrows, he looked over his shoulder; Michael hadn't moved an inch, clearly still waiting for his answer. Lucifer merely grinned as he began speaking nonchalantly.

"A human made a deal," he started. "He wanted me to be his friend." Michael raised an eyebrow when he shrugged in a 'what can you do' gesture.

"And you accepted?" He questioned in an incredulous tone.

"It may have influenced that I was a little bored that day. You probably don't know, but demons can be so dull." Michael didn't seem completely convinced, but didn't press for more answers.

"That still does not explain why you are spending so much time on earth."

Lucifer slowly tsked. "Brother, I know that you've never had a friend, but usually they tend to spend time together."

"Yes, I had." Michael tilted slightly his head, looking intently at him. He had seen that same gesture a handful of times since he got out, it was as if he was waiting something from him but Lucifer could never figure out why. The familiarity that they once had before his fall? The camaraderie? It'd be too innocent of him to think that they could go back and retrieve the kind of relationship they had. He didn't peg Michel as an idealistic dreamer.

"Brothers don't count. You came here to only talk about the choices I've in friends then?"

Michael wrinkled his nose slightly. "You cannot deny how suspicious your actions are, considering what he is."

"Oh. What was that, Michael?" Lucifer asked with a vicious grin. "I think it smells like blasphemy, don't you think?"

"You were the one who did not possess any sympathy towards humans, not me." Michael tried to defend himself. "I am not here to judge you, Lucifer."

"Then why did you come to see me, Michael?"

"Have you forgotten? We agree to see each other the last time we met."

"Oh yes, though you never specified the day." He tapped his chin. "This is about the souls, I guess?"

"Yes." Lucifer sighed at his brother answer, the playfulness he had before had disappeared completely as his wings went back to their usual state. He was all business now.

"It's not fair that you always get with the best." Michael ignored him as he looked down for the first time, lips forming a thin line.

"I assume that you already have them prepared for me?"

"It seems that you hadn't heard me. I said that you never specified the day." Lucifer smiled a little too toothily. "I haven't prepared anything."

Michael grew silent for a moment. "If I had given you a day," he said, "would had been any different?"

Lucifer pursed his lips as in deep thought. "Probably not," he conceded, and with his wings held high, he added. "Now, follow me if you want them."

* * *

"Are you fine, Sam?" Someone asked as it touched his shoulder, knocking him out of his thoughts.

"Hm?" he turned around quickly and saw a familiar nurse behind him. "Oh."

"Magdolna, we've met a few days ago." Sam knew that, since the next day she had started to work in the hospital, constantly helping him. She always repeated him her name probably because of how distracted he always seemed, or maybe just because she thought that he was that bad and considered a necessity to constantly remind him. It bothered him.

She didn't seem to care how fake it looked when he tried to smile at her as a form of greeting. He felt it too forced on his face, but she merely squeezed his shoulder in reassurance before letting him go completely. For some reason, the place where her hand had touched him started to itch but he ignored the feeling; he was getting too paranoid lately.

"Yes, I remember you. Hi, Magdolna." Looking around Sam noticed that there wasn't anyone in the room with him anymore. "You need something?"

She chuckled lightly. The tone was sweet, but it made Sam want to run away. "You were spacing out, big boy. I didn't think that you've noticed that it was already dinner time."

"Oh, yeah." Sam glanced down. It was true. He hadn't noticed how much time it had passed with him sitting on the same spot.

"You need to eat, Sam. You still have a diet to follow." His teeth clenched involuntarily at how condescending her tone sounded, but he closed his eyes instantly and tried to count to five before sighing and deciding to stand up. He didn't feel hungry but his doctor always kept telling him about how important it was for him to eat constantly ─ one of the conditions he gave him if he wanted to get out.

"Thanks for remind me, you're really nice with me." Magdolna's lips merely twitched in a strange way at the compliment and instead of leaving, she accompanied him to the dining room.

She left when they finally reached his destination, mentioning how many work she still had to do. Sam was paying too much attention to her that it wasn't until he nodded and wished her good luck, that he noticed his surroundings for the first time. He normally went to eat earlier than everyone did, sometimes even later, because he felt too uncomfortable eating with too many people around him. He hadn't checked the time and Magdolna had made him go when the place was fuller. He was still in front of the counter with his tray in hand when he started to look around for a place to sit; his usual spot was occupied.

He fidgeted before deciding to sit next to Chuck; he thought it would be easier because even while the guy was eating, his eyes never left the pages of the notebook he kept scratching. Though that didn't stop Chuck from glancing up nervously when he felt someone sit beside him. His eyes widening as he looked at Sam.

"Oh…Uh, Hi, Sam." Chuck's hand started to tremble slightly as he tried to make himself look smaller, something easier considering Sam's height.

"Hi, Chuck. Can I sit here, please?" Sam tried to use his friendlier smile and his politest tone. Chuck looked surprised and a little shocked before he sighed in relief.

"Yes, yes, of course." The panic in his voice seemed almost completely gone as he slowly smiled.

Sam didn't mention the change in attitude. He didn't blame the guy, really. He knew that most of the patients had already noticed his mood changes. He was getting too at edge these days and it was getting harder to hide it, if the tension he had felt around him was something to go by. It was as if everyone saw him like a time bomb, looking for a sign at any moment to know when he would explode.

He had tried everything so that way no one would notice, but he had failed horribly.

Two days ago he just couldn't anymore. The realization of what was happening hit him really hard that day and that was why he only wanted to be in bed and if he was lucky, get some sleep. Maybe in his dreams it would be easier to ignore his thoughts. But Magdolna always knocked his door to remind him about his pills and eating schedule. Sam had spent some time trying to perfect his normalcy act in front of the mirror before being able to go outside, even if he still felt guilty because of how he responded at Lucifer's proximity a few days ago.

He knew that they had become close in the last few weeks, and Sam could even begin to call Lucifer a friend, but in that moment it hadn't felt like friendship; he was afraid of getting too attached. He didn't want that, or maybe he did, but knew that he didn't possess the sanity to be able to form a healthy relationship. He still wanted to talk with Lucifer; he enjoyed his presence. Though it had passed many days since the last time he had saw him and now was getting worried.

He knew that Lucifer didn't like humans, he wasn't skittish to vocalize it in every opportunity he had, but for some reason he looked like it didn't bother him to talk with Sam. It was as if he even liked him. He knew that Lucifer could chose to come to say hello and then go, or simply to not come at all. Their deal was to be his friend but that didn't include that Lucifer needed to visit him.

Sam couldn't avoid feeling especial, because Lucifer went to saw him almost every day, even when he was busy he came for a couple of minutes to see if Sam was doing something interesting enough to ignore his work. He was able to see his soul; he had told him that many times but Sam didn't know exactly what that meant and he never asked, probably because he didn't want to hear the answer.

He didn't know if Lucifer had noticed the spark of arousal he had felt that day at their closeness either. Though that may be why he hadn't returned since that day… Probably he had been disgusted at Sam's human behavior. Maybe he had realized that Sam was just like any other human being with the same primitive instincts. If that demon in the crossroads had known what Sam had done in his past, then it meant that Lucifer knew too. But maybe he was already used to those kind of souls, having being around demons and all? Though he was angel too, right? One who didn't like humans (if the others angels did). Maybe there was a line that Sam had crossed.

Sam could remember the thoughts that had invaded two days ago, four days since the last time he had seen Lucifer. He had felt like shit while he was eating his lunch and had ignored others because at the time, he wanted to be alone. The good thing about this kind of place was that everyone seemed to know when someone wanted to be alone; it was like a silent agreement between the patients. But that didn't mean that they wouldn't notice when someone did something that was far from normal.

Like what happened after he finished his plate that day. He was sure that his grip in the tray had been strong, or perhaps that was his brain trying to create more excuses for his clumsiness. He just remembered standing up with tray, feeling relieved that he just needed to take his pills and then he'd be able to return to his room, but in the next moment, the tray fell from his hands. Sam had tried to grab it before it hit the floor but that only made him fall too, cutting his hand with a piece of broken glass in result.

He thought that it had been Brady the one that first laughed. He didn't pay much attention; he could only see the trail of blood that rolled from his palm, reminding him of the day he left the marks on his arm, it was hypnotizing how bright the red was, how alive it looked.

Sam suddenly felt heavy as he started to clench his fist, feeling ridiculous because he wasn't able to hold a tray correctly; he wasn't even a good human. He was pathetic.

He remembered feeling a hand touching his shoulder and then there was gauze covering his hand. Magdolna was the one adding pressure, looking him with the same pity he had seen in Bobby's eyes as he kept asking 'Why you've done this to yourself, boy?'

Sam pushed her and pressed his injured hand against his chest. He thought that he might have screamed at her to leave him alone. He didn't remember a lot after that, everything was blurred; the loud pound in his ears, his throat raw and tight; the desperation being the only thing clear to him. He didn't know when he started to scratch his face, but the reflection he saw in the mirror the next day was the confirmation that he had done it. He did remember when they grabbed him from behind to inject him though. He remembered seeing a smile as everything went black.

Since then Sam had done everything to redeem himself. He started to talk more with the patients, helping the nurses to carry things and trying to make himself look harmless in front of them, something that had always been hard considering his height, but Sam had practice. He was also more careful when he ate; ignoring how he wanted to pull his hair out of his head every time he felt eyes on him. He had started to count until five, sometimes even ten, to be able to calm himself.

He told his doctor that he had a dream of Jess the day before and that it had felt so real, he couldn't stop thinking in that. Telling him some of his fondest memories when he asked about her, feeling hollow and repulsive as he did so, expecting that he'd believe that the few tears he shed were because of him remembering and not other thing. It wasn't as if it didn't hurt to think about her, but it was easier because the ache was familiar. He had grown used to it.

"It's okay to grief; emotions are what make us humans, Sam. But if you get lost in the pain, then you'll only end unable to feel anything else."

"But I don't want to forget her, what if I stop thinking and then─" Sam stopped. He forgot that he only needed to nod. He didn't want his doctor thinking that he wasn't right. He shook his head, wanting to show as if he was clearing his head. "I'm sorry, you're right."

His doctor's eyes softened. "It's fine. Just remember that is normal to think in a person, a memory; just remember that it doesn't define you, Sam. Don't let it led your life," his doctor said. And for some reason, Sam thought of Lucifer. How, whenever he thought of their last meeting, he felt guilt, embarrassment, shame, and longing.

After Jess and Dean died, Sam pushed his friends away. He wanted to be alone, afraid to depend of other's empathy and become attached. Because they could leave whenever they wanted and what would Sam do then? And he was sure they would leave after finding how broken he was. So, what had changed? When Lucifer's presence had become so important? He knew that they had grown close since they met, but if Lucifer didn't want to visit him, then wasn't entitled to do it. With the deal, Lucifer agreed to be his friend. But 'friend' could be an empty title too. Lucifer could abhorrence Sam and still be his friend.

Sam sighed, returning to the present as he grabbed carefully his empty tray, smiling at Chuck when he told him that his book was almost ready. Magdolna waved at him when she saw him entering his room, giving him a plastic cup and his pills. They tasted weird, but Sam was already used to it; he knew that it wouldn't be too long until they started to kick off and made him sleepy. That was why he instantly lied on the bed and closed his eyes, waiting.

What he liked about the sleeping pills was that they made no room for him to think and that was good because it had almost passed a week since he had seen Lucifer and he didn't want to think about that. He felt too co-dependent already.

* * *

Lucifer went to visit Sam, eight days after the last time they saw each other. It was morning and Sam was outside, making strange movements and positions with other patients. Sam had said that it was part of his routine to start the day with some exercise; they didn't let him to run so he chose to do yoga instead.

He sat on a bench, cloaking his form from others and decided to see if they did something interesting. He knew that Sam had already perceived him, if the way he had tensed and threw glances at Lucifer's direction when he appeared was a clue, nevertheless, he didn't walk towards him, just continued doing yoga.

Lucifer felt offended at first, but he stopped when he saw an unusual light in Sam's soul.

With a huff, Lucifer decided to watch the humans as the all moved around, talking, and some even laughing when a person fell, still, his attention was mostly on Sam. In the way his body followed the instructions with the rest strangely without any problems; there was certain grace in his movements, something that would have been usually impossible to picture in someone with his height, but he certainly knew how to use his body to his advantage.

Lucifer smiled as he considered making them all fall, just to see Sam's knowing glare.

Though, how he seemed to be truly enjoying himself, he decided to search other ways of entertaining. He tried to observe the other patients next to Sam then; it was odd to see them acting so normal, considering that in the opposite wing of the hospital there were people that Lucifer thought wouldn't feel anything if he decided to carve them into pieces. No fun at all.

Sam then went to the bathroom to shower; a nurse walked outside, writing in some papers as she stood and knocked absently the door, waiting for him. Lucifer smirked when Sam answered with an "I'm still alive" and stepped out fully clothed.

Lucifer followed him when he went to eat his breakfast, always earlier than others did, giving a hand to the person with low dopamine in their system to carry their trays to their tables. It was amusing seeing the woman holding the fork with trembling hands when she didn't take her medicine, though today wasn't the day. Lucifer then moved closer to Sam, looking over his shoulder in an attempt to see what had made him flinch while he help one nurse; there was a small cut in his hand. Lucifer wondered if Sam was the one who made it, he couldn't avoid thinking that if he had been there he'd probably have been able to stop it.

He loved to make patterns with different kind of weapons in other's bodies, using them as blank canvas as he saw their blood slowly pour from the traces he made. It was… relaxing, in a way. Pleasant. However, for some reason, he didn't want to see Sam covered in his own blood─ or perhaps he wanted to see him like that, covered in all types of wounds as the life slowly drained from him. He was sure that Sam would look amazing in red.

But Lucifer realized that he was far more interesting alive. It captivated him the way Sam held himself and others. He knew how to act to obtain what he wanted, whom he needed to control, but his soul never lost its caring side; it lit with goodness, strong within all the darkness that it clouded it. If others could be able to see his soul in the same way Lucifer was able to, then they would have realized about the truth. Or perhaps not, Sam was a clever man, after all, and Lucifer found out that he liked that of him.

* * *

Lucifer got distracted with creating things from thin air in front of schizophrenic people and didn't notice when Sam left. He sensed him close, though. Making sure first that he was in his room alone, not wanting to create any more rumors between patients and nurses about Sam's mental sanity, Lucifer showed himself.

Sam tensed at first, but then tore his gaze from the book he was reading to Lucifer's face, looking as if he were waiting for something to happen, holding his breath between pursed lips.

"What are you reading now?" Lucifer asked as he walked towards the chair close to Sam's and sat. Sam smiled, eyes softening as he breathed in a surprised relief.

It was slightly amusing how his soul calmed at his presence, looking as if he had missed him. Lucifer couldn't remember the last time that someone was so relaxed just by being next to him, not even the brothers that had followed him when he fell felt like that, too scared or intimidated to do so.

He didn't ask him where he was or why it took him so long to visit him, though Lucifer knew that he wanted but wouldn't, not because he was afraid of him but other was the reason and he didn't know it. The distress in Sam's soul was his only clue. He only spoke a soft, "I knew you were here."

"You don't want to ask where I've been?" Lucifer wouldn't blame him if he did; after all, it had become a habit of him to visit Sam almost once a day.

Sam huffed, placing his book next to the others on the pile he had on the floor. "Will you tell me?"

"Sure, why not." Lucifer stood up and stepped towards the bed, accommodating next to Sam as he closed his eyes and threw his head back. After seconds had passed without Sam talking, Lucifer decided to glance at his side and arch an eyebrow at the human. Sam looked confused at first, but when understanding came to him, he turned his body, pressing his back against the wall's corner, careful of not touching him.

"So what were you doing these days?"

"Working," was Lucifer's simply answer. He smiled when Sam made that weird expression he now did more often than before.

"What's the name of that look?" Lucifer asked after Sam rolled his eyes.

"What?"

"The expression you wore before. Is exasperation?" Sam frowned, looking confused. "You did something like this," Lucifer said and tried to imitate the same face.

Sam snorted at first but it quickly turned into a laugh he needed to cover with a hand so he wouldn't make much noise. It looked almost painful. Lucifer would have been offended that a human was laughing at him, but he hadn't seen Sam's laugh a lot and the way his soul sparkled when he did it was enough reason to forgive him.

"Sorry, sorry," Sam said between chuckles. "Okay, I don't know if it has a real name, but Dean used to call that my 'bitchface'"

"Bitchface?"

"Yes," he answered quietly, the laugh dying in his throat. He looked as he did before he started to space out and he knew that usually that meant Sam's soul would become cloudy and too dense for Lucifer's liking. He had spent most too much time with his brother and he needed a break. Sam was the perfect candidate to pass time with, he wouldn't let him space out.

"Sam." Lucifer touched Sam's hand, startling him at first; he looked nervous as he pulled his hand away.

"Sorry."

He rolled his eyes at Sam's continued use of the word 'sorry'.

"Did you just roll your eyes?" Sam asked with a smile. It always managed to confuse him Sam's sudden changes of mood, which might be why he didn't consider his words at first. But he couldn't ignore that when he didn't talk, Sam's smile grew, a glint of mischief clear in his eyes. "Oh god, I'm being a bad influence on you."

Sam's smile quickly disappeared as panic started to settle in his soul. "Sorry. I know you're and angel, but you, um. Is that a blasphemy or something?"

"Sam, perhaps you haven't noticed but you've mentioned my Father's name many times before." Sam flinched. "And is not as if I care, we don't have the best relationship as many humans know."

"So it's not a blasphemy?"

"I'm probably not the best to answer," Lucifer started, stretching his legs on top of Sam's, "but I think Dad used to like it when others mentioned Him."

"Used?" Sam tensed at first but he then decided to frown at his limbs.

"Yes. Now Michael's is the one receiving Dad's prayers." Lucifer answered at the same time Sam said, "Take off your shoes if you're going to do that."

He waved a hand and made his shoes vanish, eyes darting to the side when he saw Sam covering his face with both hands. "Sam?"

"Sorry, is just weird that I'm having this conversation." The sound came muffed, but then Sam let a breath out and sat upright again. "Okay, so why is Michael hearing God's prayers?"

"Because Michael is the one that rules Heaven now; Father left Heaven a few years after I fell."

Sam looked directly at his eyes, placing his hand on top of Lucifer's. "I'm sorry," he said. The action was so sudden that it surprised him for a second, because Sam did it without hesitation, his tone even. The conviction was clear in that one gesture.

"Now why are you saying sorry this time?" Lucifer grinned and played with their hands, interlacing slightly their fingers. This time Sam did look self-conscious and glanced down. A small sad smile adorning his lips.

"Well," he started. "Your Father is gone and I know that even when you try to hate them… This kind of things will always affect you."

Lucifer didn't know what expression he wore when Sam decided to glance at his face after he finished speaking, but it shouldn't have been a good one considering how Sam recoiled. However, that didn't stop him from moving closer until they were side by side. He still looked determined, but the nervous vibes that his soul emanated were starting to bother him.

"Did I ever tell you why God cast me down? How I fell from grace?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "Though, it's now a common knowing."

"… But usually the history is written by the ones who win, right?"

Lucifer hummed, closing his eyes as he felt Sam settle on his spot more comfortably.

"Are you waiting for me to ask you to tell your story?" he asked when Lucifer didn't say anything. "Because if I ask you and you only answer me with 'God did it because he wanted' or somethin─"

"I fell because I loved God too much." Lucifer threw a glance at his right. "More than anything, actually. Though I had some time to think while I was imprisoned, and I guess you could say that it was perhaps because I was a little too prideful too."

Sam huffed. "Perhaps, you say?"

"Yes, after all I was always adored, so don't get cocky. And everything was fine until God created… well, you: humans. Then He asked all of us to bow down before you, to love you more than Him. I couldn't. You were flawed, murderous, abortions, and I wouldn't bow down before any less than God." Sam tensed beside him at his tone, so Lucifer tried to relax, leaning more on his shoulder as he blew out a breath. "I had an older brother like you, Michael, whom I loved. Idolized, in fact. But when I looked at him for support, begging him to stand with me, he called me a monster."

Sam swallowed and turned his head. They were close enough that his nose brushed Lucifer's hair. "And what did God do?"

"How I didn't do what Father wanted, my Father had him cast me into Hell. Michael was the first to bow down as the good little soldier he was. Even now that Father is gone, he is one." Lucifer felt Sam's eyes on him as he sighed. Then huffed a breath because he sighed. "Just because I had a mind of my own."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked quietly.

"Well, we angels are instruments of Creation; as the tools we're it's not our job to have Free Will. Or emotions for that matter. That's your job."

"You've emotions." Lucifer glanced up and they both locked eyes, Sam looking a little uncomfortable at their closeness.

"And you're stating obvious facts again." Now that he had a name for Sam's expression, he smiled. "I've Free Will, too. But I wasn't supposed to have that. Father created you, unlike angels, with Free Will alongside gifting you with the Earth."

Lucifer looked at Sam from the corner of his eyes when he felt a pleasant spark of anger flutter inside his soul. He saw disbelief in his eyes. "Sam?"

"I can't believe that angels don't have free will. Aren't you supposed to, um, protect humans and be happy in Heaven playing with harps?"

"We're warriors of God, Sam. Most angels don't know how to feel happiness, not even if it smacked them in the face."

Sam scoffed. "But then it's God's fault, not ours, humans. You don't have to hate─"

"But Sam, you've to admit it, I was right." Lucifer waved a hand. "Look what humans have done to the gift my Father gave you. And how many of you blame me for it."

Sam didn't try to convince him otherwise, didn't make any arguments against it and Lucifer thought that he had done something wrong. Perhaps it wasn't right to talk about how petty humans were to someone who didn't think much of life itself to begin with. Lucifer frowned at himself because he knew the name of this feeling: it was guilt.

"Not all of us," Sam finally said in a quiet voice. "There ones that even when they know exactly what you mean still try to do better, to be better."

Lucifer was going to tell him how he thought that, too, but then someone knocked the door and Sam sat upright immediately, looking at him. "No one but you can't see me; nor hear me," he said.

When Sam said, "Come in," an older woman opened the door and walked towards Sam with a book in her hand, her step faltering when she approached too close. She gave a quick look around and frowned, her eyes lingering on Lucifer's spot for a moment too long. He concentrated the energy of his tainted grace and added another layer at his cloak; it seemed to confuse her. As he stretched more of his power to test her perception, Lucifer felt something odd in the ambient.

"Hi, Missouri," Sam said ignoring her weird behavior. Lucifer tilted his head a bit to Sam's side when he sensed his honest trust towards him.

"Hello, boy."

Sam smiled at hearing her tender tone. "Is that mine?" He signaled the book she had in her hold.

"Bela's therapist gave it to me. It was between all the stuff she returned." She gave it to him, writing something down in the paper that was under her arm. "I've to go now, boy, but keep in mind that lunch starts in twenty minutes."

She waved a hand, but the feeling in the ambient didn't leave with her. It turned into an insisting murmur instead, so Lucifer unfocused his vessel eyes. It was easier that way to sense.

"Are you okay?" Sam's voice sounded distant at his vessel's ears, making Lucifer turn slightly his head, realizing then that the feeling came from Sam. He touched the side of Sam's head and leaned close, trying to make a connection between them so he'd be able to hear better the soft whisper.

Sam swallowed. "Lucifer?"

"Hush." Lucifer closed his eyes and finally could be aware of something unusual occurring in Sam's timeline, leaving an echo he was surprised he couldn't perceive before. There was someone in Sam's past who was not supposed to be there.

Anger curled within his grace when he recognized the presence.

He brushed Sam with his grace, trying to search for the exact moment where this drift had occurred. It would have been easier if he touched directly Sam's soul, but that would be too painful for a human. He decided instead to form tendrils of his grace and guide them towards Sam's timeline.

When he found the date, Lucifer opened his eyes and was ready to beat his wings once and fly. But the sight of Sam breathing heavily, a blush adorning his cheeks as he shut his eyes tightly, stopped him. He tried to turn his head slightly away but Lucifer's grip on his scalp didn't let him. And Sam didn't force it, either. He just stayed there.

Lucifer leaned more into his space, enchanted at the way his soul shone warmly close. He wondered how it would glow if he kissed him. Would it flare gradually or at once? Would it warm his grace? What he would be able to sense in it?

Sam's jaw twitched at the feeling of his breath ghosting his skin, making Lucifer blink in surprise. His hold loosened and Lucifer was ready to let him go, but the way in which Sam didn't look tense, just oddly nervous, made him think that it was safe to tease him.

Lucifer smirked and kissed Sam's cheek; chuckling when he jumped.

"What the hell─ Why weren't you listening to me?" Sam scowled, blood rushing at his cheeks and neck as his hand came to touch the side of his face.

"My apologies, Sam, I was a little distracted. And now, if you don't mind, I need to go to check something," Lucifer said and started standing up, shoes materializing on his feet as his legs moved away from Sam's.

Sam didn't stop him, but one of his eyebrows rose. "Check something?"

"Yes, it seems that my dear brother Michael is looking into your life."

That seemed to throw him off for a moment. "Wha─ Why would an angel be interested be interested in me?"

"Just Michael and he's an archangel. Heaven's commander." Lucifer ran a hand through Sam's hair as he concentrated again in the exact place his brother's was. It felt soft between his fingers. "We both can bend time so I need to go now before he leaves."

"But why me?" Sam asked, distress clear in his eyes.

Lucifer's eyes drifted towards Sam's. He moved a hand to caress his cheek but stopped. Michael had already noticed him, but why didn't he leave?

"Because I'm interested in you," was Lucifer's only answer as he ripped the walls of Creation; The trends of time opening, ready to bend at his command. Lucifer grabbed Sam's familiar timeline and flew alongside it, following the path in front of him.

* * *

"I thought you weren't interested in my choice of friends." Lucifer mentioned when he appeared next to the same vessel Michael was wearing before. A slightly younger Sam sat in front of him, looking at the pieces of glass that came from a broken mirror a few steps away from them as if they were gold.

Michael had a mask of indifference as he saw the different kind of emotions displayed in Sam's soul. "I was merely curious of what you see in him. I won't affect his timeline, Lucifer."

"Well, you've been already here, seen some things. Now go" Lucifer walked towards Sam and sat beside him, as he had done a few minutes ago. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say a couple of months later.

"He probably wouldn't have gotten into Heaven immediately, had he succeed," Michael said calmly.

"Had he succeeded then I would have given him to you yesterday, with the others." Tears didn't fell from Sam's eyes as he started to hyperventilate between clenched teeth. He grabbed the broken glass with desperation, sweat falling from his forehead. Unconsciously, Lucifer started to move a hand towards his wrist.

"Lucifer."

Michael spoke only once, but the meaning was clear. Lucifer's hand halted, stayed in the air as he saw Sam cutting his forearms with a tight smile on his face, a broken sob escaping from his lips. Sam looked relaxed as he leaned his head against the bathroom wall and stared at the ceiling. He breathed in relief and his smile turned soft, sincere.

His future self wouldn't be too pleased to know that he had seen him in this moment. He shouldn't be watching; it was Sam's past and he hadn't invited him. However, at the same time, Lucifer found himself unable to tear his eyes away as the blood rolled from his arms to the floor.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, placing his head back so it wouldn't bother his eyes. The movement was slow as if his limbs weighted him. He didn't clean the drops that fell onto his face. He just smiled bitterly and mouthed a 'finally' at the air.

Lucifer was right. Sam looked good in red. Stunning. Even more accompanied with the sharps colors his soul displayed. A beautiful contrast of lights. Relief, fear, sadness, happiness, disappointment, accomplishment. Too many colors.

"Lucifer."

"They're not going to make it," Lucifer said, ignoring his brother's silent question (Or it was a command?). Sam had told him before that it was his parental figure, Bobby, the one who found him in the bathroom. Lucifer could sense him with his wife but they still were on the road, five minutes too late ─ Sam had already lost too much blood.

"Even after you rebelled there were rules that you never broke," Michael started, using the tone he always used to lecture others, "Because you knew how important they were."

Lucifer glared at his brother. "I'm not changing the timeline if it already happened."

Michael looked thoughtful, considering. "Do you think that Father wanted you to─"

"Oh, stop it. I'm doing this because I want. Don't involve Father here." Lucifer brushed Sam's hair; he didn't seem to have felt him, it looked hard for him to stay conscious. But with that touch, the bleeding stopped. Lucifer sighed and stroked Sam's hair, pressing the human's head towards his chest.

Michael kept looking at his actions with curiosity and stayed there, in front of him, until the couple went inside the house. His brother surprised him by dropping a piece of the mirror on the floor. The sound made Sam blink slowly but his eyes were still unfocused. Lucifer only moved away when they entered the room, startled at the noise. Bobby was the first to enter. He dropped on his knees and grabbed both forearms; Ellen then came, covering her mouth with a hand, tears forming in her eyes.

He didn't want to, but Lucifer made the blood start to pour again at a slower pace, flying away when the paramedics came. Grabbing Michael's arm with him and traveling between timelines until they were in the correct one. He released him in some place close to the Pacific Ocean.

"If you ever go to any other period of Sam's past, I won't care about the deal we made, brother. I'll fight you and win."

Michael stayed silent, not doing anything to stop him when Lucifer decided to go.

He looked tired.

* * *

Sam's smile didn't falter while he was eating. He had tried to erase it, noticing the odd looks he was receiving. But he couldn't. Lucifer's words still rang clear on his head. And Sam didn't care if he was becoming too attached. Not yet, at least. He wanted to enjoy the feeling until it went away, because Lucifer didn't hate him. They were still friends.

Lisa was walking by, but stopped upon seeing him, her lips curling into a smile.

"It seems like someone is happy," she said and leaned on his table. It didn't bother him. They had met in their group session and for some reason, most times, they ended together in activities. He had grown used to her. "So, what's up?"

The question was lighthearted and easy. She seemed to be having more good days lately.

Sam could feel his dimples forming. He glanced away. "Is nothing."

"It sure looks like something, but you don't need to tell me. Is just nice seeing you so happy, Sam."

"Thanks."

She smiled again and ruffled his hair before she left.

Sam stood up with a good mood and started looking for a nurse so he could receive his pills, wondering if Lucifer will show up later. He wanted to question him about what he had said about Michael looking into his life and that abrupt depart.

Already in his destination, Sam found that it was the turn of the head of nurses to five the pills. Sam wasn't fond of her as she had been the one to sedate him many times before. Luckily, he heard Magdolna calling for him and when he turned, he saw her with two little cups in her hands. "I've your pills, Sam"

"Oh, hi. Haven't seen you all day." She sighed, her smile faltering. There was certain exhaustion in her posture. "What's wrong?"

She waved a hand. "Is just that a girl with BPD from the other wing broke again with his boyfriend and I had to be with her."

He took his pills. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, but I'm a little worried by the guy too. I mean, it must be really difficult for him just having a relationship with her," she said, glancing down to a paper and signing Sam's medicine file. "Her doctor even told him that it would be better for him to stay away if he was not prepared for that kind of relationship. They can be too consuming, you know."

Sam felt himself tense at the words. "What do you mean?"

"Well, she doesn't even know if it's love or just her being clingy. She tries to be independent and look as if she doesn't need any company every time they break, but then she harms herself because she can't handle the rejection. We had to put her down because she hadn't slept in two days, barely ate."

Uneasiness started to creep inside Sam. He remembered his friends at Stanford and how he had done exactly the same. How he had been with friends before pushing them away, afraid of forming relationships because he grew attached too quickly at the people that showed him any sight of affection. The things he had done were what made Ellen and Bobby notice his state. The things he had done for others were what sometimes kept him awake at night. Preferring to be alone, not wanting others to notice how bad he had gotten, Sam had perfected the action of making others forget about him. Or maybe not forget, but to not care. He wondered if what he was feeling with Lucifer was just that, he feeling needy for affection. From Someone who wasn't family and couldn't throw him away without feeling remorse.

"─been with her, trying to calm her down. She needs constant watching so…" Magdolna stopped talking. Sam glanced at her. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't be telling you this, is just that─"

"It's okay," Sam said absently, trying to smile, "I like to hear other people. It's okay."

Sam couldn't see her face well when she glanced down. "I should go and return to that wing. I've already made my job here, just wanted to say hi."

"Anytime."

Sam walked out first, not looking down as he went to his room. He could feel the pill on his throat. Thick and sour. He closed his door's room and breathed a couple of times until he calmed down. He grabbed the book he was previously reading and searched for the page he left on, trying to concentrate in other things. Other things that didn't include how pathetic he was.

He glanced at the desk where the white crayon that Lucifer gave him still was. Irrelevant and unnecessary as he was.

* * *

Lucifer returned almost five hours after he left. There was a frown on his eyebrows as he sat next to him. Sam was feeling calmer; his anxiety had almost drowned from him as he reached a part of the book where the story became more interesting. So even if he clenched his fist slightly Lucifer appeared, he still felt glad that he was there. Sam had the time to disguise his uneasiness better because of Lucifer's distraction.

"What's wrong? Did you meet Michael?"

Lucifer looked at him but didn't say anything. "I think I must apologize, Sam," he started. "My brother has violated your privacy by 'visiting' your timeline."

He didn't like the sarcasm he put in the word. "What do you mean with that?"

"Angels have the ability to travel through time and my brother used this power to see into your past."

"Wait─ What?! You're angels! Are you even allowed to go into another's life and see─" Lucifer stroked his hair; there was a silent apology in the gesture.

"We are," he said. "What we're not allowed is to interfere with it."

Sam huffed and looked away, frowning at Lucifer's feet. He was afraid to ask, but he needed to do it. "What did he see?"

Lucifer waved his left hand and made his shoes disappear. "You're not going to be happy."

"Well, I'm not happy now."

"Yes, I know." Lucifer brushed his cheek, his hand slid from there to his scalp, turning Sam's head towards him with the action. It wasn't forced; Sam knew that if he wanted, he could move away. "Can I take advantage of you, now that you're just angry at my brother?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. He was going to ask what he meant but then he noticed Lucifer leaning into his space. His eyes boring intently into his. The usual pale blue that always looked cold now seemed melted somehow. A little brighter. Or it was because their closeness? He wasn't sure, his mind couldn't process clearly what was happening, at least not until he felt Lucifer's nose brushing against his cheek. Sam's eyes half closed, but he could still see Lucifer's eyes on him, asking for permission. And that was what scared him more. That whatever it seemed to be going between them seemed to be his choice.

Sam licked his lips nervously; saw Lucifer following the movement with his eyes. "What did you see?"

Lucifer's gaze darted to his eyes again, backing off a little. The angel looked thoughtful before glancing down at his hand, Sam following his line of sight. He saw his fingers trailing one vein until it reached the edge of his long sleeve and moved slowly under it. He didn't voice his answer but he did look at him pointedly.

Sam felt his breath leaving him as his heart pounded faster. Sam shook his head and tore his wrist away. Sam clenched his eyes tight when his eyes turned glazy. He ran both hands through his hair. He didn't want to look at Lucifer; too embarrassed and humiliated. He wanted to go. "I'm sorry," Lucifer said and Sam felt he could breathe a little better at hearing the honesty. Sam still didn't leave. "I know l should have grabbed Michael and leave instantly."

Slowly looking up from the white sheets, Sam turned his head and swallowed at the serious look Lucifer wore. "Would you forgive me?"

"Aren't you going to leave?" Sam wanted to ask. "Why are you still here?"

Lucifer's right hand moved slowly towards his hair, curling around the back of his head when Sam didn't move away, giving enough room for him to feel comfortable. "Will you?"

Sam's lips quirked up at the hint of concern he saw in front of him. The constant yell in the back of his head that kept screaming 'run' whenever he was with Lucifer never left, but Sam was good at ignoring things and now he could hardly hear it. Lucifer frowned, confused at seeing his smile.

Sam cleared his throat, leaning cautiously into his touch, still afraid that Lucifer would say something that would hurt. "You're apologizing too much lately," he mentioned.

"Am I?" The worry inside Lucifer's eyes was barely discernibly from the fondness and amusement. He moved until their noses brushed, but Sam saw that Lucifer didn't want to pursue anything by it. For some reason that was worse. He could felt a hot blush spreading through his cheeks. "Am I making you uncomfortable, Sam?"

It was the grin, Sam realized, what made him lean into him to erase the few inches that separated them, even if he knew that he'd probably regret later. But he was already used to that feeling and other worse more; he was curious.

The first time they had kissed, Sam remembered that it was short and cold, a little salty, too. Though that may be because of Sam's tears ─ that time he was having a mental breakdown.

Lucifer's lips were still a little cold, but his mouth was warm and the only thing that felt human. There was something else that he had never felt before: cool, smooth and light. It tasted like energy and oxygen, something powerful. It chilled him, but at the same time felt as if it were burning him. When Sam opened his mouth to Lucifer's tongue, it only increased, making him lightheaded. However, he felt also something metallic that startled him, something like blood and ash. It made him move away in surprise and a little bit of fear.

Lucifer tilted his head in curiosity as he licked his lips; it was one of the most innocent gestures he had seen in Lucifer in all the time they had been friends. Though it might because they had been friends for a short period of time. Not more than four months. What was he doing? Lucifer was still─

"What are we doing?"

Sam breathed, trying to look away from Lucifer's lips.

"Well, we were kissing," he said with a smile, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"But why?"

"Didn't you want to do it?" At Sam's glare, Lucifer rolled his eyes and rested his head on the headboard, stroking Sam's hair he spoke. "I don't know you, but I realized that it would be really boring without you."

Sam could have asked what did he mean, or what it would be boring. He smiled faintly instead."You know that's not a good reason to want to kiss─"

"And because I wanted to, Sam. I really wanted to do it." Lucifer looked directly at him, eyes calm.

"I'm a mess, you know." Sam pressed a palm against his forehead. "I'm human. Flawed, you say it yourself."

"Yes, I said that. Though the nurse interrupted me and I didn't finish what I wanted to say."

"What. So now humans are perfect?"

"No. Of course not. But I'm─ what's the word?" Lucifer hummed. "Awesome. I think that's the word humans use now. "

Sam couldn't help it, he laughed. "Glad to know that your ego is still there."

"Thank you. So you see," Lucifer started, smiling him back and moving closer. "I'm awesome, because I'm better than my brothers."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm flawed in their books, though. So while I was in the Cage─"

"Cage?" Sam interrupted him.

"Yes, that's where Michael put me." He wanted to ask more but Lucifer kept talking. "In my stay there I had time to think and I realized that even though you're flawed, that's what's makes you likeable."

Sam frowned and chose to talk slow and pointedly. "But you don't like humans."

"I never said that I liked them. Most humans should be dead, but as you said before, there are some that aren't that bad."

Sam gritted his teeth. "So you're saying that I'm one of those?"

Lucifer arched an eyebrow. "You really think that I'd kiss a human that I don't like."

"You kissed me when we made a deal and you didn't know me yet." Sam started to feel really uncomfortable at Lucifer's words, self-conscious. His skin started to itch and it felt too tight for his body, tensing when Lucifer's hand brushed his jaw, waiting there until he had relaxed.

"You were the first human I made a deal with since I came out from the Cage, a few decades ago."

Rolling his eyes, Sam said, "Are you going to tell me that I'm especial, or something now?"

"No. You're a normal human, Sam. I was bored the day you summoned a demon and because of that I decided to see what was happening when I heard my name in a deal," he said, moving his thumb towards Sam's lower lip. "You were a wreck. I accepted to be your friend because I was bored and I liked your soul, it was interesting." Lucifer leaned close. "I kissed you now because I want something else from you, you're important to me."

Sam shut his eyes tightly and exhaled, both of his fists clenched. "And you want me to be your Persephone or something akin?"

"I haven't read that yet. Is about some pagan god, right?" Lucifer scrunched his nose. "I do hate pagan gods."

Sam's eyes flew open in surprise. "They exist?"

"Of course. Cockroaches, all of them." He grinned, as if he were putting 'obliterating pagan gods' in his to do list. He then breathed. "But going back to the topic, I think I want something else from you. Something besides your friendship." Sam was ready to protest, to give excuses, but Lucifer slowly leaning until they were inches apart, stopped him. His nose only brushing slightly on his cheek. "I want to make you blush and kiss you whenever I want."

For some reason, relief flown through him. "So you only desire me?"

"Not quite. I like the way your soul lights when you smile and laugh, though; how it acts when it's close." Lucifer moved his hand away and leaned on an elbow. "I'm a jealous, possessive being, Sam. I don't want it to be from anyone else."

Sam knew that if Lucifer continued like this, he was going to start hyperventilating. He felt a hand stroking his hair and one look at Lucifer confirmed him that the angel was simply being honest. He did want to give it a try─ he liked Sam. But he didn't know what he felt and Lucifer's words only added more weight to his shoulders, he didn't know what to answer. Even Lucifer admitted he was a wreck. It was true Sam didn't like when someone desired him, but he still fell for anybody that treated him as human being, he starved for that connection. And he couldn't help but think in Magdolna's words.

"If you're doing this just because─"

Lucifer tilted his head. "I don't do pity, Sam. I realize of what you are, and aren't."

"But it isn't about that! It's about what I have!" Sam ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Having depression is not being sad all the time as most people think. I mean, is not losing a job and crying because of it. Or to cry for every little thing."

"What it is then, Sam?" he asked.

"Is not a flesh wound you can heal, you know." Sam frowned at the grin that appeared in Lucifer's face. "Are you going to try to fix me?"

"It goes to your soul. If I try to heal you, I run the risk of changing who you are. I don't want that."

Sam glanced down; his words made him want to cry. "But do you understand what you're asking to signing for?"

"Why don't you try to make me understand, then?" Lucifer's tone was as if he already knew the answer, but for some reason, wanted Sam to voice it.

"Well," he started, clenching his fingers on the mattress. "Depressed people get worried about stupid things; they kept worrying, and worrying that not even after being told otherwise, they stop feeling anxious." He smiled bitterly. "Is like feeling guilty at any tiny mistake. Worthless, you could say. As if you couldn't do anything right. Is feeling so tired and heavy until it's hard to stand up from bed. Sometimes is even feeling like you'll never get better, not being able to see something good at the end." Sam huffed when he felt long fingers brushing his nape. "It's clinging at every tiny gesture of affection, because depressed people don't think they deserve it. Doesn't mean that they don't want it, though."

Sam looked away, away from the eyes and the touch. "This is not my first time here, Lucifer. I stayed a few weeks before after Ellen found out that I was cutting myself." Sam looked at Lucifer sideways. "It's not as if I wanted to die that time. I just wanted a reminder that I was alive because sometimes I felt so numb… I couldn't even feel the pain when I pinched my arm; I was scared."

"Sam," Lucifer started, but Sam cut him off harshly, unable to hear his voice soft.

"Depressed people know they become attached too quickly, most have chose distancing from others because it hurts to keep wondering when that person is going to leave, when they are going to become tired of them. That's why they aren't surprised when others indeed leave, because they─" Sam took a shaky breath and ignored the itch behind his eyes. "Because we now that we're broken. If I could, I'd leave myself. So even if I try to convince my doctor that I'm fine. I know that I'm not. So I don't why you want something like that from me, but I don't want to lose you, though. If you want we could try this out, but I'll think most of the time that you're doing it because of pity."

"I repeat again, Sam: I don't do pity," Lucifer said, stroking the back of his neck. "I can see your soul; I already know how you are and I like it, so you don't need to act for me, Sam."

Sam wanted to scream why, but chose to let himself lean into the cold touch, sighing. "Just let me know when you grew tired of me. It hurts less if I already know than keep wondering."

"Okay." Lucifer tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, acting as if Sam hadn't just tried to push him away a moment ago.

He bit his lower lip. This was one of the strangest things it had happened to him. "So what? We're together now?"

"I'm afraid that no, we aren't," Lucifer said nonchalantly. Sam's stomach flipped over in panic, a lump formed in his throat. He opened his mouth to ask 'then what was all this about' but Lucifer held a hand to stop him. "I don't want you to be with me just because I want you to, Sam."

Sam's jaw went slack, but Lucifer grabbed his chin and closed it. He swallowed. "Not that you take all of what you want whenever you want?"

"Yes, but what's the fun if you don't want to." Lucifer grinned. "I want your consent to be willing, Sam."

"You're an asshole, you know that." Sam frowned in annoyance, he wanted to keep calling him names and curse him, but he heard the sound that indicated that dinner was almost over.

Lucifer looked at Sam's stomach and then at the book on his bed. "You haven't eaten, right?" Sam tried not to, but he was pretty sure he pouted. "Oh, petty humans and their necessities."

"Hey, you're the one who wants to be with one of them, so shut up." He stood up and started to search for his shoes.

"And just so you know you're the only one I let to call me an asshole."

Sam left him inside his room; he turned the corner and saw on a clock hung on one of the walls that it was already late. He started to run, hoping that there was something left. He had to eat otherwise his doctor would have a few words with him, and maybe Lucifer too, but something told him that he'd probably just appear some random food from thin air.

Sam stood in front of the counter and saw everything almost empty, even the man that served the food wasn't there.

"I was waiting for you, Sam. I almost go to your room." Sam looked over his shoulder and found Magdolna behind him holding a tray of food.

"Is that for me?"

"Yeah, but don't tell the other nurses that I saved you food or I'll get fired." She winked and Sam couldn't help but smile.

"Thanks, Magdolna." He grabbed the tray of food from her hands at the same time he saw one of the head nurses near.

"Is nurse Masters, boy." She stood next to him and looked at his friend. "What are you doing here?"

The old lady tried to not look angry in front of him, but Sam saw that even Magdolna had noticed too. She looked really annoyed at being reprimanded and Sam felt guilty.

"I'll be waiting for you in the conference room." She gave a last glare at her and left, but Magdolna stayed a couple of seconds next to him, looking… sheepish? Considering?

"I suppose I should call you Nurse Masters in front of others to avoid problem, right?"

"It would be better." Her lips quirked up in that way it always looked as if she wasn't entirely smiling.

"Then see you later, nurse Masters?"

Winking, she added, "We're alone now, Sam. You can even call me Meg, if you want to."

"Okay, Meg." She smirked and gave him a small wave before she left Sam standing with a tray of food and his newfound appetite. He felt a little pleased, happy even, as he started to eat and hoped that this emotion would last and it won't be gone like drugs after the high is over.

Sam returned to his room later and saw Lucifer checking the book he left on the desk. It felt safe to move walk closer. He didn't know when Lucifer would leave, but something told him that he would return.

"You haven't told me yet why you left that day," Sam commented and settled himself next to him."And don't tell me 'working', because─"

"It was demons. And then my brother." Lucifer huffed in disgust, placing the book aside and moving an arm casually behind Sam's back. "I suppose that you want me to tell you everything in detail, right? I warn you that that may be long if you want to know also why Michael and I aren't tearing our heads apart and starting the Apocalypse."

"And don't sugarcoat it too much."

"You know I will, Sam."

Sam smiled and lied down; Lucifer's voice lulled him as he started stroking his nape. It was calming and nice that Lucifer treated him like always. He didn't have to smile more, or laugh. Just relax and hear.

Chapter Manageme


	4. Antidepressant Withdrawal

_She glanced down at her phone, looking at the number before deciding to answer._

_The voice in the other end spoke, "Everything went well, my daughter?"_

_She smirked slightly. "He just needs a little more help, and I'm ready to provide it."_

_"How long?"_

_She frowned at the impatience laced in his tone. "The time I need."_

_"Our Lord spends a lot of time with that human; do you really want Him to keep wasting His precious time?"_

_Rolling her eyes, she continued, "I'll have to give him a little incentive then, though even if I do that, it'd be hard. The boy's will isn't shattering for some reason."_

_There was waiting at the other end; she leaned on the table of one of the yahoos as she waited, taking a french fry from the tray._

_"I've already prepared something in case things get problematic." She arched an eyebrow. "I don't want to use it, so you better not fail me, my child. You don't want ─ " She shut her phone when she saw Sam running around the corner, looking at the counter for something to eat; glancing at her right she noticed the food still intact of one of the patients that looked too out of it to even notice when she took it from his table. She smiled and called for him._

_"Sam?" He didn't hear her. She scoffed but walked closer, deciding to stand behind him with a hand on her waist as she put the best smile the girl's body had to offer, careful of not showing too many teeth. "I was waiting for you, Sam. I almost go to your room."_

_He looked over his shoulder looking surprised before a smile started to form on his lips._

_Remember to not show many teeth, she thought to herself._

* * *

Lucifer ran a hand through Sam's hair, making sure that nightmares wouldn't haunt his dreams as continued to sleep beside him, using his chest as a pillow. He had decided to stay with him after he finished telling the story of how he escaped from the Cage and putting him into sleep. Sam had listened carefully as Lucifer tried to find the right words about how he had spent many centuries inside the Cage. Pushing and shoving his wings with all the force he could muster against the walls that surrounded him; the rage that clouded his mind that didn't weaken even as he started to grow tired. He didn't let himself feel otherwise either, not wanting to let his Father and brothers win by giving up.

But even with his mind full of emotions, he still noticed clearly the moment he couldn't Father anymore. At first, he had thought that it was something else to punish him with, as it was the fact that he couldn't hear the song of his brothers either. However, when he became aware of the panic in the high ranks of Heaven, faint as he could sensed it from where he was, he knew that Father had indeed left.

It made him feel smug for many years, accomplished, knowing that he had won in this fight of wills. The feeling didn't last, though; he realized of the consequences from his rebellion when Gabriel, the younger of the archangels, came to his cage to wept golden tears, mumbling about how everything was horrible upstairs as the angels that had followed his cause kept fighting. Their siblings killed each other and Michael commanded them to fight as if they were demons and not the ones they had laughed with. There was at least an angel's death per day and Gabriel, who was The messenger, had finally joined the battle. Not even Raphael was safe from it; they didn't need a healer anymore when demons joined, just soldiers.

Lucifer had never seen Gabriel being nothing but cheerful, always cheerful. It saddened him greatly the sight of the wings dropping beside the brilliant form that Lucifer could still see even with the amount of cloaks that his little brother had used to hide himself from demons and angels. One of the tricks he had taught the younger many centuries ago.

Gabriel looked up at the sky, and smiled miserably for a long time. Lucifer could feel his grace full of disappointment and longing, yearning for the family they once were. 'Heaven does not longer feel like home anymore' were the last words Lucifer heard before his little brother left; adding one layer more at the cloak so not even Lucifer could see through it.

That had been the only time he had wanted to give up and pray for his father, to tell him that He had won, stop everything, please. He had never truly wanted this for his brothers; he just wanted their Father to be the one to suffer.

He spent a few years thinking about what he had done; he didn't have other things to entertain himself in that Cage after all. Earth was a blur above him, Heaven even fainter for him to glimpse; Hell being the only view he could see clearly. He thought that it had something to do with the fact that Hell chapped itself following the true form of their ruler; position that had belonged to Lucifer since the moment his grace had touched it. Therefore, even though no one could see nor hear him from the outside, he still saw, heard, and felt everything around him with the same clarity as he saw his wings growing more deteriorated by each decade it passed.

He once mentioned to Sam how accurate humans were in their belief that Hell was a place where your only friends were desperation and pain; a never-ending torture full of blazing fire and brimstone that burnt cold like his wings, instead of producing the heath most would have thought Hell possessed. Engulfing all its territory into a complete darkness, with the echoing cries of souls as the only symphony you'd be able to hear for centuries until you became powerful enough to manage a few trips to earth. Sam knew this, but at the time Lucifer had explained it, he hadn't felt comfortable enough around him to ask for more, as he did now.

So yes, there was sulphur lingering as dark smoke in the air, so dense that you'll choke at your attempts to breathe it. But no, it didn't taste like smog; more like blood mixed with sweat, and even the sheer desperation the souls felt left a unique taste in the air. Um, yes, the permanent sound belonged to the mutilated cries of souls; after all, torture was the usual hobby most demons used to liberate stress. He hadn't known what to answer at first when Sam asked him if it rained in Hell. Do it counts if the rain that pours is acid? Oh, then yes. It rains.

Lucifer agreed with Sam when he mentioned how boring it would be to be in the Cage. Because it was true, after many centuries down there, it became dull and tiring to watch the same thing from inside a metaphorical box, even Lucifer's anger began to lessen from him. It didn't mean that he stopped his attempts of escaping, though; instead, it led him to analyze better his situation, to think clearer.

He decided to be patient, to concentrate all his power for years until he could liberate it in one small spot. It weakened him greatly for some time, leaving his wings ruffled and tired, but he was able to concentrate the necessary energy all over again after some rest. It passed millennia before a crack finally appeared in one of the walls. A few more centuries until he was one pull of his grace away from freedom.

His excitement only lasted a few days, though, as the brother he had never thought would visit him, appeared on the top of his cage, on earth. It was a lot of harder for him to look at something that it wasn't Hell, but Lucifer tried. Turning all his eyes up, pressing them to the walls. Smugness pouring from his grace when he felt Michael's eyes on him, too; he knew that their father was the one who had created the Cage and therefore the only one who knew its structure. Michael couldn't repair it without Dad's help.

He accommodated in his cell and was ready to hear Michael's lecture about how he was a bad son, and needed to accept the responsibility of his actions, or maybe about how hordes of Heaven were waiting for him to escape, ready to attack. It came none of that.

"The sound of Gabriel's horn is supposed to announce when the Apocalypse is near, but our brother is no longer Home," he started, his voice holding a weariness Lucifer hadn't heard before. "Almost at the same time our Father left."

"No longer home." Lucifer scoffed, talking even when he knew that Michael couldn't hear him. "Nice wording. You make it sound as if it wasn't intentional when it's more like our little brother escaped."

"I am tired, Lucifer. Too tired of this petty fight that will only end in destruction." Lucifer's heads moved closer to where Michael was, confused. He hadn't expected that. "When you finally get out I will not fight you, brother. But if you create havoc on earth I will not have more choice but to do so."

Lucifer brushed his grace against the crack on the wall, surprised when Michael's grace followed the path he made; they couldn't touch but his brother seemed to be able to sense him.

"Lucifer, please, will you think about it?" Michael almost pleaded, grace still shinning before it recoiled into itself and left.

And he did think about it, because he was also tired. He was still mad at their father because He had called humans His most beloved creation, because He wanted them to bow. He wanted Lucifer to bow before them! To proclaim that some monkeys were better than his brethren. It was true that Lucifer admitted a few centuries ago that he might have taken it out with the humans instead of dealing directly with his father. He didn't deny either that he still wanted to do it, but didn't see any purpose in destroy all humanity if their father wasn't there to look.

So he waited a few years more before he decided to escape, thinking.

From the moment he started to pour his grace into the crack, Michael appeared on top, waiting patiently as Lucifer continued with his work until the wall was completely destroyed. It had been difficult to not rush and use all his energy considering how close he was from the freedom he yearned. And how good had been to see it fall. He took a second to appreciate his surroundings before he finally turned towards his brother, feeling longing deep inside of him despite all.

Lucifer's numerous eyes wanted to weep once they landed upon the brilliant form Michael wore. The tiny vessel with soft delicate features that contrasted with Michael sharp grace, make his brother look marvelous next to the wings that spread high and wide at the sides. Her hair was a brilliant blonde that looked like a halo; her skin shone stunningly from the inside because of Michael's pure grace. Lucifer didn't have the courage to see his own form, afraid of what he would contemplate.

He told Sam how once upon a time he was the most beautiful angel that ever existed, referred as the most virtue of all his brethren, with a grace that shone almost as brightly as God's did. He who had been allowed to sit alongside Him in the earlier days of creation; the days when innocence and beauty were used to describe the powerful flame his wings possessed. However, once he had fell, his wings started to burn differently too. Not in the usual gold and orange colors that had been more beautiful that the precious gems that formed Gabriel's earthly wings.

Now the touch that once had been warm burned cold; the candid, livid colors that had gained him once the title of bringer of Dawn were now shades of blue and turquoise that reminded him of the brother that had given him his back. Even if his wings were still bright, there was a clear taint in them caused by his time spent in Hell's Cage that not even the purity of Raphael's wings, that once could heal everything they touched, possessed the power to clean him.

It disgusted him now to watch the contrast between his once perfect wings deteriorated by millennia with Michael's pure ones.

"What have you decide, brother?" she asked, her true voice leaking from the human vessel that could barely hold her grace.

Lucifer smiled but didn't speak, not wanting his true voice to be heard by all Hell. He moved closer to Michael, not surprised when she didn't step back, and grabbed one hair from her head, using it to make himself a vessel. He chose to create a male because he wanted to have at least the height to use at his favor. One of the tricks he had seen many demons use before.

"I think I would accept," he spoke slowly, trying to get used to the vocal cords. "But I do not want to owe you anything, Michael."

His brother frowned. "And you would not."

"Oh, but we both know that you could use it against me whenever you want. I will not give you the advantage, Michael." Lucifer smirked when Michael's grace flared up, almost unnoticeable.

"That sounds more like you than me, Lucifer."

"If you want me to accept, then ask for something, Michael."

Michael smiled slightly and chose to think for several seconds before deciding to glance down; Lucifer followed her line of sigh, curious, but found nothing but horror and agony in Hell.

"I want the souls of the ones who do not belong to Hell."

Lucifer blinked in surprise. "Have you forgotten that it was Father the one who decreed who will go down the pit?"

"Of course not. But, wasn't our mission to protect those who cannot protect themselves?"

"And it had worked so well before, right?" Lucifer mocked, remembering all the wars he had seen angels bring down to earth.

"Perhaps Father's departure is meant to teach us something," she said with a pensive tone and Lucifer wanted to leave, not wanting to continue this old, boring charade. "Time has changed; I want to try different things."

"Fine, fine. You want the souls? You'll have them. But in my opinion all belong there." Lucifer looked down, a mischievous smile slowly formed when an idea occurred him.

"What if we do this then." He hummed. "I will give you the souls after they had spent certain time in Hell; if the souls are weak and turn into demons quickly, you cannot have them, but if they last, then they are all yours."

Lucifer could felt clearly Sam's glare when he said that. He merely smirked, shrugging an arm as he snuggled him closer.

"Michael agreed to return after a few years had passed." Sam rolled his eyes. "But it was a surprise to see my brother again because we never decided a day to meet."

Sam's soul glinted adorably, tiny sparks brushed his grace making Lucifer want to press him closer. "But what if a soul that doesn't belong to Hell goes there just by the time Michael asks for them?"

"Well, then they're lucky." Lucifer felt an annoyed puff of breath on his neck when he playfully didn't let Sam move away. He just huffed and writhed searching a good spot for him to settle next to Lucifer

"Your suit is uncomfortable," he commented instead of telling him to back off. Lucifer startled Sam when he waved a hand and copied his clothes. "So I guess that you're going to sleep here then?"

"I don't need to sleep."

The feeling of the tip of Sam's nose brushing on his chin when he raised his head was pleasing. "That means that you can?"

"Yes, but I won't."

Sam tried to move his head enough to see him, but he went to his previous position when he realized how close they would be. "Why?"

"Because I don't like to."

"So you're going to be like a creep and stay awake while I sleep?"

"I'm not a creep," Lucifer said stroking Sam's hair, enjoying how he leaned into his touch. "I'm Hell's ruler."

"Uh-huh. The title kind of loses its charm when one realizes that you love Disney movies."

"Pixar and DreamWorks have lovely animation too." Sam laughed and settled in a more comfortable position, his head on Lucifer's chest.

They stayed awake in silence for several minutes, Lucifer happy to just feel Sam's soul content and calm beside him, hearing his pulse and respiration slowing as the tiredness of sleep began to grow. But then half an hour had passed, and Lucifer became worried when Sam didn't fell asleep after

"Sam?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I know. I'm really tired but I can't sleep."

"Is it because I'm here?" The way Sam's soul pressed closer was enough answer. "Do you want me to help you sleep then?"

"You already told me a story and It didn't work out, are you going to sing me now?" He yawned. "Because now I'm ready to accept anything."

"If you want to, I can. Though I think it would be easier if I just did this." He touched the back of his head and Sam fell asleep instantly. Lucifer chuckled and brushed a kiss on his forehead before closing his eyes with a tiny curl of lips.

* * *

Sam and other more patients did a movie night every few days; a tradition no one exactly knew who had started but still loved to do it. Twice a week a patient gets to choose which movie to watch based in their alphabetical order─ if someone stays for a short period of time, they get benefits to choose first than others. The good thing was that nothing stopped you if you wanted to leave or to decline you turn. It was an optional time to bond and have a good time.

It was Lisa's turn. She had passed her previous chances before but this time didn't; Sam thought that it had something to do with the fact that she was going to leave soon.

She smirked as she stood up, pulling from her bag some romantic comedy movie for all to watch. She had told him before that she just wanted to cheer up the new patients with the comments she knew would come out from watching it. Sam usually didn't stay because of the crowd but Lisa was his friend (He was trying to make friends again), so he sat with everyone else on the seat that was behind every other, even though he felt awful.

He was getting used to, though, it was becoming common from him to feel really tired lately and not be able to sleep; when he finally did, nightmares awoke him covered in sweat. There was some kind of irony in the fact that he could only find some kind of peace in the Devil's arms. Lucifer only needed to brush his fingertips on his forehead for him to fall into a dreamless sleep.

Because of the headache, he couldn't concentrate in the words really well, so he merely conformed in just hearing the background noise of the movie. He didn't even dare to try to eat some pop corn, afraid of throwing up. He still didn't know how anyone hadn't caught him yet in one of his frequent trips to the bathroom. But even with pain he still found the strength to turn his head slightly when he heard the familiar flutter of wings.

"Hello, Sam." Lucifer smiled as he made a chair appear next to his and sat, positioning his arm loosely behind Sam's shoulders. He frowned at it for a second before he rolled with it and decided to use Lucifer's cold skin at his advantage. "Are we watching something good?"

"Well, Lisa told me it was really funny."

Sam would usually put his act and interact with others even with the headache, but he liked more to see them all like this from afar, hearing the laughs of the people in front of him as they mocked about some cheesy lines; and besides, there wasn't any nurse present. Missouri was in charge that night and she had a sixth sense that made her know when someone was doing something suspicious, so it wasn't necessary for her to be with them every single moment.

Sam unconsciously started to lean more into his Lucifer's shoulder, closing his eyes and wanting to escape from the heat that even in then cool night seemed to be in the room.

He felt how a hand started to brush his forehead at the same time a soft weight rested on him, the contrast making him shiver against his will at the first contact. "You're burning, Sam," Lucifer said when Sam moved away.

Sam sighed and turned towards Lucifer's face, leaning closer into him, not wanting him to think that the touch was uncomfortable. "Was that your wing?"

"Yes," he whispered back, lips close to his hairline. "Does it bother you?"

"It's okay, I kind of like it." Sam closed his eyes against Lucifer's shoulder as he let the other watch the movie; every once in a while feeling fluttering touches ghosting absently the free skin they could find.

Sam had noticed in the time he had known Lucifer that he was a being of tact, using always small touches to obtain his attention or to simply communicate something. He remembered having read somewhere about how tact could be used as a method of manipulation. He didn't know if Lucifer did it with that end in mind or if after having spent so much time seclude from everyone in the Cage he now craved it. Something told him that it was a combination of both.

Lucifer's first touches had a purpose on them, but he couldn't remember when that changed. He was now always considerate and gentle around him even if it wasn't in his nature to be like that, just doing it for Sam's comfort, knowing how uncomfortable he could get because of them. Though sometimes he even looked surprise when he did something too gentle.

He had tried to deny it at first, but it was becoming more evident with every day it passed that their relationship was growing. Sam didn't mind, thing that may be a problem, but he liked Lucifer, someone whom he had become friends with. He still didn't know if what he felt was love or if he was just trying to please Lucifer by giving him whatever he wanted so he wouldn't leave him, which now seemed to be Sam. And that only made him feel guiltier.

The only serious relationship he had was with Jess and it also started from a friendship. Sam had always admired her; she was kind and gentle since the beginning, with a strong and charming personality. She knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to achieve her goals. She was so secure of herself and had been there when he needed support, adding light into his life. Sam loved her. But the circumstances were now different because Sam wasn't fine; he knew that Lucifer was someone extremely powerful with limited patience who wouldn't wait until he was okay, that if he ever did.

Lucifer startled him when he stroked the back of his head. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he croaked, realizing that he was starting to sweat. He cleared his dry throat to repeat the answer. "Yes."

"I don't believe you, you know." Sam didn't bother to argue. "Perhaps you need some sleep? You look weary, Sam."

Sam hadn't mentioned to him how he couldn't sleep really well without him at his side to put him down; Lucifer was busier than before, keeping the demons in line as he tried to figure who was the one leading others against him; Sam didn't want to troubled him more. He looked around with blurry eyes and saw the concentrated faces of the others as they kept watching the movie. He wanted to stay and be around more time but he did feel tired and wanted to take advantage of Lucifer's presence that night.

He stood up. "Sorry, guys, but I'll go to bed early."

Shushing sounds and pop corn was thrown at his direction because he interrupted as one of the characters was declaring their undying love. Sam laughed silently and held a hand in Lucifer's direction to stop him in case he decided to do something about this attack. But the chair he created from thin air was gone, as his owner. He panicked for a moment but stopped when Lisa walked towards him, a smirk on her lips.

"Told you that they were going to love it."

"Yeah, you did." Sam smiled, pushing a little pop corn from his shoulder. She didn't seem to notice his nervousness; her attention was still on the TV.

"Everyone says that they hate sappy movies but once they're down to it..." She shrugged.

"I think that now I owe you one pudding?"

"Tomorrow I'll haunt you until that pudding is in my hands." She then winked and returned towards her seat, the couch made a sound, which gained her some pop corn throwing too.

Once alone he tried to ignore his heart's beat as he looked around but found nothing. He decided to walk at a faster pace towards his room, expecting to see him there. He swallowed once he was outside his door, noticing how his hand trembled slightly before he decided to open; sighing in relief when he saw Lucifer on top of the bed, wearing clothes similar to the one he had.

Sam closed the door and scoffed when Lucifer pated the spot beside him playfully. Without any warning, Sam climbed the bed and surprised himself when he separated Lucifer's legs so he could lie on top of him, his head on Lucifer's chest.

He swallowed when he realized of what he had done.

"Are we feeling a little bold today, aren't we, Sam?" He could hear Lucifer's smile in his voice, a hint of concern in it, too. Luckily, he didn't do any more comments about his weird behavior, which Sam appreciated. "Is something wrong?"

Sam wanted to told him how utterly lost he had felt the last few days, how the times where his anxiety grew were becoming often; but he didn't want Lucifer to think that he was losing it, like Sam already thought. Lucifer noticed how uncomfortable he got by the question so he tried to distract him by sliding his hand on a spot of free skin his shirt didn't cover, making Sam jump at the coldness of Lucifer's hand.

"You told me that today it was your turn to talk with your doctor, how that went?"

Sam sighed in relief when the other hand moved towards the back of his head. "Well, he finally asked me subtly if I was hallucinating."

"And you didn't tell him about me, I assume." Lucifer hummed. "I feel a little left out, you know."

Sam scoffed a laugh as he stood up slightly to settle into a more comfortable position, trying to ignore how his head hurt whenever he moved. Lucifer's eyes were filled with amusement as he saw him trying to not lean with all his weight. He placed a hand on Sam's lower back before he pulled him in. Sam yelped and his elbow saved him from falling completely into him but made him closer to his jaw.

"Hey!"

Lucifer kissed his cheek, easing the pain on his head. "Don't be afraid of placing all your weight on me, Sam."

Sam blinked as his mind went clearer, less throbbing, and distracting. I made him realize of the position they were in; the warmth of Lucifer's legs spread at his sides, the way his chest moved from his chuckles, the bulk of his crotch against his stomach. Sam swallowed and tried to move differently, it only brought his own closer. Lucifer's quiet laugh near his ear, made it worse.

Feeling his face and neck burning hot, Sam blurted, "I can't have sex."

Fingers taped on his side and Lucifer's head moved at the side to chuckle. "Oh, I like were your mind is going," he said, his head turning towards him, brushing the side of Sam's neck with his lips. Lucifer hummed and Sam swallowed when fingers trailed down his spine, lips moving close to his own. Sam's hand went towards Lucifer's hair, but before he could lean forward, Lucifer retreated with a smile. "I was referring that your weight doesn't bother me, though. I've lifted heavier things."

Sam's head fell on Lucifer' neck.

"Oh, fuck, I hate you." Sam's voice came muffled and even if it didn't bother Lucifer, it was still a little odd to put all his weight on him considering that Sam was a couple of inches taller, but the cool skin felt really nice.

"Sam your temperature keeps rising," he said when Sam pressed his sweaty hand on the back of Lucifer's neck. "How are you feeling?"

"I think I've the flu." His throat felt dry and sore; his body, heavy all day. It wouldn't surprise him. "It'll be over tomorrow, you don't need to heal me now."

"You don't wish me to heal you?" There was worry in his tone.

"Well, your skin is really cool and I'm─" Sam cleared his tone. "It feels a little nice."

A yelp escaped from his lips when Lucifer's hand moved under his shirt, going from his lower back to his shoulder blades. "So you prefer to suffer like this than to let me ease the pain in your head? That can't be healthy, you know."

He took a deep breath. "Can we continue what we were talking about?"

"If you want." Lucifer chuckled. "Though I'm really curious, if you've let me stay with you to watch a movie while all the other patients were around us, does that mean that your dear doctor doesn't think that you're hallucinating then?"

Sam turned his head so Lucifer's shirt wouldn't bother his breathing. "Well, I think he still suspects but he probably bought what I told him about practicing some conversations so I could get used to talk with others."

"That's not a lie, you do that, and I think it's far more peculiar than having hallucinations."

Sam frowned at the wall. "Yeah, my doctor now thinks I should make friends outside the hospital; maybe reunite with some of my Stanford's ex-classmates."

"Oh, yes. I haven't seen any of them in all the time I've visited you," Lucifer commented. "Not even when I appeared in the old house."

"I, well, I don't wish to see them." He flinched at how coward he had sounded to his ears. "They don't know I'm here."

"Why?" Lucifer asked, playing with Sam's hair with his free hand.

For some reason, Sam remembered the calls he and Dean used to have his first weeks in college. The usual topic was how both of them considered weird to spend so much time in one place: Sam in college and Dean working. They were already used to move around because of their Dad, so it was understandable. He had tried to fit but never felt really comfortable in Stanford until he had met Jess and it became easier to be around others; but almost two years had already passed since he left and he no longer saw the point in returning when he had finally managed to leave that life behind.

"I think I wouldn't know what to say if they asked me what happened or how am I," he answered honestly. "They're a reminder of what I lost and I think it would hurt to see them. I miss going to classes, though." Sam's face returned to Lucifer's shirt to confess something he had never told anyone, "I want to keep studying."

Lucifer hummed against his hair. "Do you plan in return?"

"Not there," Sam answered a little too quickly, feeling the anxiety creeping into him. "But yes, I'd like to."

Lucifer stroked his back reassuringly, helping him to relax his erratic heartbeat. "But you still need a friend to show your doctor that you're progressing, yes?"

"He didn't say that." Sam frowned. "He only thought that it would be good for me to make more friends. I get your point but I don't have any friends besides some of the patients and a couple of neighbors."

The way Lucifer chuckled for some reason made Sam afraid.

* * *

"Since when have you met Sam, Mr...?" the doctor trailed off as he looked through his papers.

"Luke Morningstar." Lucifer grinned, reclining into the chair a little more. "I've already filled all the papers that were requested, or there is something more, Dr. Simigh?"

"This is just a formality." He placed his interlaced fingers on the desk. "Though you do understand that what Sam doesn't need right now is more stress, right?"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "What are you insinuating, doctor?"

"Sam has never mentioned you, my apologies if I'm being a little rude. But you must understand that I've to protect my patient."

"I have been Sam's friend for a very long time; I've been worried about him since he got out of Stanford."

"And I guess that now that you've finished your studies, you're able to finally find the time to see him," he asked, looking through the papers he had filled with just a movement of a hand.

"Exactly. Now the law firm I'm working on is really close from here and I wanted to see my old friend." Lucifer smiled sweetly, and if the doctor ignored some other formalities then, well, his lack of patience may be the one to blame.

He was led into a white room filled with tables and chairs; two guards stood in opposite corners were a couple more of patients were with visits. He waited on his seat, a hand under his chin as he kept looking at the other door that led into the patient's wards. Excitement made his vessel's heart leap when he sensed Sam's soul near, full of confusion and fatigue. A nurse opened the doors and it didn't take Sam any time to notice him. His face was priceless when Lucifer waved a hand.

"Hello, Sam."

Sam gave him a tight smile and turned towards the nurse. "Thanks, Roger." The nurse nodded and left, not without throwing Lucifer a curious glance before. By the time they were out of earshot, Sam was already leaning to whisper somewhat harshly, "What in the hell are you doing here?"

"Nice choice of words." He moved his fingers on top of Sam's hand, which were under the table, and started to playfully tap at them to calm him. It hadn't escape from his notice how red Sam's cheeks were, nor the way his eyes were slightly unfocused and watery.

"I'm serious." Sam gave a quick glance around before he bit his lower lip and looked down to their hands. "Why are you here?"

"Well, you did mention that your doctor wanted you to make more friends." He gestured at himself. "Well, here I am."

"That was two days ago." Sam rubbed his face with his free hand. "Yes, I know, but Luc─" He looked up at him. "What name did you chose to, um…"

"I'm Luke Morningstar now."

Sam's lips twitched. "Morningstar?"

"It's the meaning in English of my real name."

"Oh, I didn't know that." He looked ashamed. "But, still. Luke, you need a real identity, if they realize that your persona isn't real, then…"

Lucifer placed a hand on his chest in mock hurt. "Sam, have you forgotten who I am?" He leaned close, a smile on his lips. "I've reality at my fingertips to play with."

Sam swallowed and looked at his left, sitting upright when a nurse turned towards them. "So you created a new identity?"

"Yes, here you've your old friend from college, who is now working in a law firm close from here."

"Well then, thank you," Sam said with a tired smile, his breath becoming a little more elaborated. "I know that it wasn't necessary for you to do it."

Lucifer frowned as he felt an odd mix of emotions fighting between each other inside Sam's soul. He touched his hand again, stopping him from getting dizzy. "Sam, are you okay?"

"Um?" He looked up, rubbed his temples gently. "I just have a headache and, well…" He shrugged. There was a certain edge on his soul that Lucifer hadn't felt two days ago. Sam started to cough, his hand kept rubbing his forehead persistently. Lucifer moved his hand towards him, but halted when a sob escaped Sam. "Could you heal me, please?" he pleaded in a broken tone. "I can't. I just─ please."

Lucifer touched Sam's cheek and poured his grace inside him to cure him, trying to cleanse whatever it was that affected him. He didn't notice anything too abnormal in him, which worried him even more. Or perhaps Lucifer was overreacting, humans bodies were really weak after all.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked when Sam breathed in relief, slowly blinking the tears away. He nodded against his hand, leaning into him when Lucifer pressed his palm on Sam's back. Sam sighed and curled as the tension drained from him. Then he started shivering; Lucifer was worried that it was because of his skin. He warmed it slightly but Sam pressed a hand on his tight to stop him.

"It's not you," Sam whispered, "I've been trembling since this morning."

Lucifer didn't bother to throw a glance at the guards when they came closer; he slid his wing on top of Sam instead and, with a thought, stopped them from moving, commanding them to ignore them. He rubbed Sam's back as he tried to even out his respiration, his hand holding the shirt Lucifer had chosen to wear so tightly, nails digging into his skin. If he were human he would certainly be already in pain.

"I've told you before that my brother, Michael, hears everyone's prayers now that God is no longer in Heaven, remember?" Lucifer kissed the top of Sam's head, stopping the shivering instantly.

Sam let a shaky breath. "Yeah, you mentioned it."

"Well, all angels are able to hear prayers; when it's directed to one in specific, they're louder."

"Are you trying to say that…?"

"I'm still an angel even if I've fallen, Sam. I can hear prayers too."

Sam scoffed, his soul lightening slightly. "Is this the angel version of exchanging numbers?"

"I think you're referring to cells phones." He smiled. "I just want you to know that if you ever need me, you can just pray me. I'll always come."

Sam stayed quiet for a few seconds, then he clutched his shirt a little tighter.

"Always is a big word, Lucifer."

"I've lived since the beginning of time. I think I know what always means."

Sam sat a little upright, enough for him to see his face. "Are you sure? Because I remember you say once that you didn't like moping people."

"Well, you seem to be the exception to the rule. I still like you better when you're not moping, though."

"So... you don't mind?"

"As long as you mop only when I'm around."

Sam choked a laugh and Lucifer moved a finger to clean the tear's strains that rolled down his cheeks. Sam used that to lean down to kiss him briefly, murmuring a thanks against his lips. Lucifer smiled and waved a hand to erase the memory of everyone around them, not wanting to cause problems to Sam. He had told that he hadn't seen Sam in a long time; it'd only raise more questions if others tell Sam's doctor that they had saw him kissing him.

* * *

Sam was washing his face in the sink; his reflection showed him how pale he got after finishing throwing up in the bathroom. Ignoring how his head hurt and his weak legs, Sam retreated towards his bed; he just want to lie there until he wouldn't feel so dizzy anymore. Lucifer had visited him yesterday in the night to help him sleep so he was pretty sure he wouldn't return yet. He sighed. He couldn't remember when his thoughts had changed from the happiness he used to feel just by thinking that Lucifer would return to dread; worried that he continued seeing Sam in a worse state each time.

He clenched his fists. He hated that feeling. He hated growing too close to someone until he started to get worried about when they would leave. Sam knew, rationally, that he didn't have to be worried because Lucifer knew him very well and was just concerned, but at the same time, his brain couldn't stop thinking what would happen if he did something that was weirder from his usual self. He was afraid to lose everyone around him.

Involuntarily he pressed his nails against the skin on his ribs, stopping when a knock on the door made him jump, startled. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair before opening the door. Maintaining his smile small, worried that the bags under his eyes would be more noticeable if his smile was too broad.

"Good morning, Sam."

Sam threw a quick glance at the hall before he answered. "Hi, Meg."

She smiled as she handed him a book he hadn't noticed before she had under her arm. "Thank you, it was really good." Sam received the object, confused, and looked down at it; he didn't remember having seen it before.

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand."

"Don't you remember that I asked you to recommend me a book and you gave me this one?" Sam blinked, trying to remem- Oh, right. He looked down at the book again.

"Yes, I remember, but Meg." He moved the book from one hand to another. "This isn't my book."

She didn't look surprised when she sighed. "I'm sorry, one of the nurses also gave me one book; I think I grabbed the wrong one."

Sam smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, you can return it another day."

"But the book is in my locker." She gestured the side of the hall where the staff's bathroom was. "I'll go and return it to you immediately, but my shift is going to start soon and..."

"As I said before, you don't need to worry."

Her lips twitched slightly in her usual smile. "But I'll feel bad, Sam. If you could accompany me, then I would give it to you."

Sam tilted his head; something he had picked from Lucifer. "Are you sure is okay for me to─"

She waved a hand. "Yeah, sure. Besides, I need to go there to grab something too."

Sam shrugged and followed her as she started to walk. He had never seen the interior of the room where all the nurses and doctors use to leave their things and showered, so he was truly curious to see how different it was from the one that was for patients. At first he thought that he would only get a glimpse of the room when Meg opened the door, but for his surprise she motioned him to enter.

She winked. "I know that you're curious."

Sam chuckled but went inside and looked around the room; it was bigger than the he had thought. The lockers where in the far side, so they wouldn't get wet. Magdolna went there and opened her locker, but before she could pull the door, they both heard the voice of the head of the nurses walking closer, giving instructions to some kind of cell.

They both looked at each other with widened eyes. "I'll distract her; you change the books and stay here until I return and tell you it's good, okay?" she said quickly in hushed tones, Sam nodded and grabbed the book from her hand.

She ran towards the nurse and Sam could barely hear the words they exchanged. He opened her locker's door carefully, afraid that it would make a sound. He saw his book on top of her stuff and took it out too quickly, making some of Meg's stuff fall. He glanced around, hoping that no one had heard him before he knelt and grabbed all the things from the floor. His hand stopped when he saw her razor, though.

He took a deep breath as his fingers brushed the edge, closing his eyes as he thought in the possibilities. He tore his hand away and clenched his fist, not wanting to see them shaking; he took a breath and opened his eyes, blinking a few times to stop them from watering. He remembered the blood, the calm.

Magdolna would notice if he took her razor, he thought, repeating the sentence over and over in his head while he grabbed the razor and returned it from where it had fallen among the other things. He heard a sound and Sam's head jerked towards it. He decided that he would hide while he waited until Magdolna came. Looking at his surroundings, Sam noticed a good spot in a corner next to the lockers with a trash in front that seemed to have enough space for him.

He moved the little trash full of bottles, papers, and other things, to hide. But when he stood in the spot and returned the trash in its place he blinked, noticing another razor that it was similar to the one he had seen in Magdolna's locker, the only difference was that this looked less new, the edge not longer so sharp. He swallowed and heard another sound. It was something from the spur of the moment that he decided to grab the razor and place it between the pages of the book. He accidentally cut the tip of his finger but it didn't bleed, making it easier to hide it when Meg came for him.

* * *

Lucifer had checked already twice the house of Robert Singer and Ellen Harvelle before he decided to retreat; there weren't any demons in all Sioux Falls. He then gave new orders at the ones he saw lingering close just in case, not wanting to made it know that he was protecting the place. He even placed a thin layer of grace on top of the recurrent places Sam went so he'd know when a demon went closer. He already checked the hospital whenever he visited Sam.

He was sure that he had smell sulfur on Sam, it may be a coincidence, but he got angry just by thinking that there could be one trying to lay a finger on Sam.

It was obvious that Hell was becoming more unstable if you knew where to look at, and Lucifer had to spend more time down there because of that─ keeping the demons in line as he killed and questioned the ones that went against him. But even with all the work he had to get done in Hell, he still visited Sam, not caring that he'd have to compensate it later. Few hours on earth were days in Hell; it gave time for demons to regroup. The idea of changing the current of time in Hell had started to appeal him, if he hadn't done it was because of the many consequences that it'd carry such action.

Nevertheless, Lucifer wanted to be a little more time with Sam. As he had told him before, he enjoyed his presence, the feeling of his soul. And as the feeling kept growing, there was certain worry in him that did the same too, worry that others could use Sam against him.

Lucifer felt that the hospital was a little shaken for some reason, so he decided to appear in the epicenter of it after delegating some of his work. He was relieved when he noticed that Sam wasn't involved in anything that had made the doctors so troubled. He looked over the shoulder of a nurse and read a paper about some dead body they were transporting to the morgue. He decided then to appear in Sam's room, frowning when he saw him looking at a book on his lap without actually reading it.

"Are you okay?"

Sam jumped at his words.

"What─? Oh, hi." Lucifer leaned down to kiss Sam's forehead, humming when Sam tried to smile. He'd have told him how he didn't need to try, but he didn't as Sam's soul lightened slightly.

"Do you know what's happening out there?"

"Yeah," he answered quietly, eyes going down to his lap. "They found Ruby outside the hospital; I heard that she died while they moved her to surgery."

Lucifer gently tipped Sam's chin upwards to be able to look him better. "Who is Ruby?"

"She was a patient. I didn't notice that she had left as I always tried to ignore her."

He traced his lips with his thumb when they quirked downwards. "If you ignored her, then why are you sad, Sam?"

Sam licked his lips. "She had also anxiety like I have, but she dealt with it by having sex with others. And, well, we used to be 'friends' the second time I came here. That was before she was released, of course."

"And what happened then?"

"I don't know... When I returned she was also here but it wasn't the same. I felt even more uncomfortable around others and she seemed to do anything to make it worse." He shrugged helplessly. "So I tried to avoid her. Maybe if I had done something else─ if I had tried to talk with her instead of…"

"Sam." He touched his hand as he felt his soul turning dense. "It's not your fault."

Sam didn't seem to believe him, the pain in his eyes only aggravated and Lucifer didn't know what to do. He pulled Sam towards him, onto his lap, when Sam didn't protest but let himself be moved, Lucifer hugged him and left a kiss on his jaw. "It's not your fault," he repeated, stroking Sam's back and soul gently. He huffed and pressed his nose into the crock of Lucifer's neck.

* * *

The nauseous smell of food made Sam give his food to someone else, again, making sure that no nurse saw him while he passed it under the table, swallowing some without chewing when he noticed they threw suspicious looks at him. He still felt the symptoms of the flu on him even when Lucifer had eased it just the day before. He'd have asked his doctor for medicine but he hadn't thought it would last that much, he promised himself to tell him about it the next day in their session.

He returned to his room feeling restless, which was weird considering that all day he had felt really tired, though his headache may be one of the reasons he couldn't get any sleep even if he lied on the bed and closed his eyes. He still tried though.

* * *

Lucifer was curious about this Ruby woman Sam had mentioned, annoyed at the pain she had caused him. He hoped to find the soul still lurking around the body so he could play with it as he walked into the morgue. If it wasn't there, he could always use the body as a medium to call to soul. He had already given Michael many souls; he didn't think he would mind if he took one. That, if she was on Heaven.

He made the doctor inside want to go to eat so he could open the compartment she was in. The small door didn't make any sound a he slid it open, showing him a dead body under a sheet. He tilted his head when he felt something really familiar before he even got the chance to pull the blanket off. Lucifer felt a spark of anger flaring up in him as he introduced his grace brusquely into the body, making it jump. He found a taint inside; there was no trace of the soul.

All Hell heard him as he commanded demons to found the one that had used the girl's body, offering a prize to whoever who brought the demon to him. No one dared to question him; they just followed his orders, running from one place to other, afraid of his wrath. It didn't help that he kept reducing to ashes some of Hell's structures either. Michael even called him once to ask him what the problem was. They had made an agreement that included him not to start the Apocalypse, it was understandable that his brother would be wary of his sudden anger, but Lucifer chose to ignore him; he wasn't destroying earth, after all.

It took him almost two weeks down in Hell for him to calm down, and that only happened after a random demon finally showed the one that had possessed Ruby.

"Oh, my daughter. You thought that Alastair would be your worst nightmare in Hell," he said, leaning into the rack with a dark glare. "But I can make him beg for mercy easily whenever I want."

It had been a really long while since he got the chance to really work with someone as through as he did with her, making the time run slower in Hell, taking his time to enjoy every scream that escaped her. He questioned her about why she had done it too, wanting to know if she had been the one lurking around Sam.

* * *

Lucifer decided to appear behind Sam while he was taking a break from running. He was using a pair of headphones that made him unable to hear the sound of his wings. But when his grace brushed against his soul, Sam turned, smiling faintly when their eyes locked.

"Hey." Sam walked forward, his soul lighter than usual. Lucifer leaned to brush their lips, but to his pleasant surprise, Sam deepened slightly their kiss.

A pleased hum escaped him before backing completely away. "You look happier."

"Do I?"

Sam brow wrinkled, but there was a blush covering his cheeks when he glanced at the side and took his headphones away, running a hand through his sweaty hair. Lucifer hadn't noticed before, but once he gave a carefully look at Sam's soul you could still see the usual weariness in it. It surprised him that he hadn't pay attention before; he merely saw that it was lighter and assumed it meant happiness.

"You looked different for a second," he whispered, feeling puzzled.

"Well, the only different thing is that I ran today, Ellen does leave me do that after I take my pills." Sam frowned. "Though I think it's already time to get more, I think the ones Ellen has are ready to expire."

Sam shook his head "And what about you? Haven't seen you in three days."

"Are you counting the days, Sam?" Lucifer smirked. Any other day, Sam would blush adorably and look down with a sheepish smile, but he seemed to notice that something was wrong. His frown was still there.

Sam's hand closed around his arm, his grip firm and gentle.

"Is everything alright?"

Lucifer pursed his lips, unsure of how to continue. He hadn't told Sam about how he had found residue of demon possession inside Ruby's body. It wasn't because he thought he wouldn't be able to handle it and more like he didn't possess the time to do it. He'd probably end killing Sam if he had showed when he found about it; his rage has always been his downfall.

"Lucifer?"

"I'll be blunt: Ruby was... possessed before she died."

Sam's eyes widened. "What?"

"I was curious about her so I went to the morgue and found out residues that led me to believe that she was possessed."

"I don't under─Since when?"

Lucifer touched Sam and translated them both to the room Bobby had given him, making sure to soundproof it before. Sam didn't say anything, just rubbed his eyes because of the dizziness he always felt whenever Lucifer flew him. He sat next to him on the bed and tried to touch his hand but Sam moved his own away.

"Since when?" he repeated, voice determined but soul trembling.

"She was after the hunter named Rufus. Your friend apparently had exorcised her before and the first thing she did once on earth was to seek vengeance."

Sam laughed dryly, leaning his elbows on his tights so he could hold his head better. "I always thought it was too normal. He told me how hunters don't have a peaceful death and─" He sighed, his body shaking once. Lucifer placed his palm on his back, attempting to show some support as he moved part of his grace against him. He was stirring his wing on top of Sam but the tone of his voice stopped him death. "How do you know all of this?"

Lucifer wing retreated. "What do you mean, Sam?"

"You found out that she was possessed recently, right? Then how do you know all of this?"

"...I searched for the demon, of course."

"And what, that demon just told you the truth from the goodness of its heart?"

Lucifer calmly sat upright and placed his hands on his lap. "What do you want me to say?"

"What do I want you to─?" He stood up, looking everywhere but him. Pacing a couple of steps before leaning his weight on the chair in front of his bed. He took a few breaths before he talked slowly. "It was a simple question."

With chin held high, Lucifer smiled. "I tortured her. Thing I've done many times before, now more frequently, considering the demon's revolt." He tilted his head. "Have you forgotten who I am, Sam?"

Sam's lips formed a thin line as he looked at his left, tears silently watering his eyes. Was it guilt what he was feeling? Lucifer wanted nothing more but to walk forward and erase that expression on his face, to wrap his wings around his body and held him close.

He shouldn't have used a harsh tone.

"It was just a demon, Sam," Lucifer found himself saying, frowning down at himself when the words left his lips.

"A demon is just a human's soul twisted, wasn't that what you told me?"

Lucifer stood and started walking towards him. "Sam."

"Could you go?" even bother to look at him as he spoke, the grip on the chair tightening.

"I don't think it'd be a good idea for you to be alone right now, you're just trying to find someone to blame," Lucifer said gently, stopping walking at a safe distance, trying to not scare Sam away. He couldn't resist holding his right hand high to graze his fingers against Sam's arm. "But I'll go if you really want me to, Sam."

Sam swallowed, moving slightly away from his touch. He clenched his eyes shut. "Please, go."

Lucifer's hand was still in the air when he began closing his fist slowly, his eyes drifting towards Sam's hand before he flew away.

* * *

Sam was in the bathroom of his room when he grabbed the razor between his fingertips, not thinking, just holding it. Clenching his teeth as he breathed through his nose, trying to remember what his doctor had told him a few months back, when he still did it. Sighing, he tried to think in something positive, wanting to immerse in just one happy memory, so he could forget about everything else that plagued him. He thought about how great life could be, how good it was. How there were moments when he could laugh easily and feel so content and light.

Like how he enjoyed to read Jo and tell her stories, inventing new creatures just to heard her giggle; to play games and teach her new things. He liked to help Bobby in the garage because he enjoyed his company and could always picture Dean at his side shaking his head every time he tried to fix a car. Helping Ellen in her bar was fun because of the different types of people that came, all the stories they told, the knowledge they shared.

He knew this, but for some reason he couldn't recall the feelings behind the memories, they just kept slipping away from his hands. He tried to think in something, anything. Like how beautiful were the fireworks in the night. How learning new things always made him curious for more. He wished to see a sky full of stars one day and at least once drive the impala with the music on in all its maximum volume as Dean did when they were young. He wanted to visit Rufus's grave at least once, because without him, he wouldn't have opened again, nor he would have met Lucifer.

Lucifer.

Sam knew who Lucifer was; had a good idea of what he had done and did. He should be scared of him. He really should. The truth was that he simply didn't care, and it terrified him how much he didn't care, because he had grown to like him, maybe something more he didn't want to name. And it was stupid because it all started as a stupid deal, one where he hoped to get killed; go to Hell to receive the punishment he thought he deserved. Instead, they became good friends, thing he hadn't thought possible, but was true. As true as the fact that Sam was falling for him, falling for the possibly worst choice ever in partners in all human history.

He didn't want any of this, but didn't regret it either. He liked Lucifer's laugh and the things it made him feel, how gentle he could be. He loved to feel the light touches of his hands against Sam's skin, his nose against his neck, the way their legs tangled. How he held his hand, always brushing the tips of his fingers first. The feeling of his cool skin against his own. How he always listened to him attentively, as if Sam was saying something important.

He even liked the way he smiled mischievously, making Sam afraid and curious to know what he was thinking.

Sam sighed and glanced tiredly at the razor. He hadn't seen Lucifer since he told him to go, three days ago. He felt so sick. His doctor approved the pills for the flu but they didn't do anything but heal his sore throat. His headache was still there, the shivers, the nausea ─he vomited at least twice a day. How the nurses still hadn't found out, it was a wonder.

He wanted to rest, to sleep and forget everything.

A sob escaped him because, fuck, the nightmares. Sam was afraid to fall sleep because of them. He dreamed of Jess, Dean, their dad, Bobby and Ellen, everyone in his life telling him how pathetic he was.

His grip on the razor tightened.

Most people thought that the ones who self-harm love the pain. Why would they do it if it weren't the case, right? Sam always remembered digging his nails against his palm whenever he felt angry or impotent, even before the doctors diagnosed him with depression. It was just something he did to calm himself and something that became frequent after Jess and Dean died. He hadn't really pay attention at what implied before.

He couldn't exactly recall if he ever thought that that pain wasn't enough and needed something more, but he did remember thinking that if so many people cut themselves to feel better, it would mean that it was true, that it really worked. Maybe at some time, the pain didn't hurt.

So he did it.

He was angry at himself that time, at life. He couldn't stop the broken sobs that escaped him, nor control his breathing. He just wanted it to be over and when he saw his razor next to the tub, well, it was more out of curiosity, really.

He didn't remember how much it hurt, just that not too much. It slightly stung. The first try he hadn't even been able to make the cut bleed, he thought that he was doing something wrong so he repeated the action, trying to press the edge a little deeper, wanting to make only a small cut. He remembered thinking that it would hurt the same if he did it small or larger, so why do it more noticeable?

The second time it did bled. A red line covered the cut and a small drop poured from the border where he pressed the skin. If he wasn't mistaken, he had huffed that time. Because it hurt, even if slightly, it still hurt. There wasn't anything magical about it; it wasn't as some kind of drug that made you feel better or something. Everything was the same.

He sat on the toilet that time, trying to think if he had done something wrong, perhaps you needed some special movement to achieve the pleasure.

But then, he noticed.

His tears had stopped, his breathing was close to normal, he didn't feel so angry, perhaps a little annoyed, but other than that, he was fine. Apparently, at some time he had been so engrossed with the razor, trying to think in how deeper he should do the cut so no one would notice, that he had calmed. It scared him so much because even if it didn't give him pleasure or magic spell to feel better, it did work to focus him in a way other things didn't help. He promised that time to not ever do it again, but then a second time came, and a third. He didn't know when the scratches on his skin didn't help anymore, and he wanted something rougher, to make the lines bigger, deeper. Wanting desperately more─

Sam swallowed.

He knew what would happen if he started cutting himself; if he closed his eyes he could see Bobby and Ellen's disappointed faces, Jo's sad expression when she learnt that Sam was going to stay in a hospital still haunted him, it made him feel sick. He had never seen Lucifer disappointed and was afraid of knowing how it would look directed at him. Nevertheless, he felt angry by how his life depended a lot in others.

He had lied to his doctor, his friends, even a little girl for their benefit while he just kept suffering in silence. He hadn't even been able to finish all his misery from once and all because of others too. They took the decision for him given that they thought it was the best, claiming that their way of thinking was the ideal one; not considering how he would felt about it, how guilty. How every time he saw their faces he would see clearly how they kept blaming themselves for not being able to do something when it wasn't their fault he had given up.

Tears rolled from his eyes as he grabbed the razor firmly. He knew what would happen, he knew that it wouldn't accomplish anything, he knew. He knew. But he was so angry and so disappointed at himself. His head and stomach hurt like hell and he still wanted to throw up. He felt so tired and lonely. His life was just a rollercoaster of emotions Sam couldn't control anymore, dark thoughts always pondering in his mind.

Sam took his pants off and looked at the previous marks he had left before on his legs, ugly pink lines that would always be there, a reminder of how he couldn't stop. He traced one scar and scoffed. He couldn't picture anyone wanting to see, wanting to touch. How would someone love him if he didn't even love himself?

Swallowing, he tried to ignore the itch on his skin and how his fingers flexed, wanting to scratch the scars to see if he could open them with just his nails. He just wanted to feel in control for once, to be the one in charge of his life, of his body. And this helped. The lines he could make could be as perfect as he'd like, as he'd chose. Besides, he was already ugly, why don't add more?

Pressing the edge against his tight, Sam swallowed. He didn't make a cut, not yet; he simply wanted to press the thin metal on his tight strongly without actually breaking the razor. Just concentrating in the pain, in how his heart pounded faster on his ears as he started to make a perfect straight line. He wanted to move it, to make the cut bigger and messier, but refrained to do it. Smiling when he finally took the edge away and saw a trail of blood starting to pour; he grabbed some toilet paper with his left hand to stop it, moving it unnecessarily around, wanting to feel more pain, but avoiding to do a visible mark.

He blew a breath and moved his hand away, feeling how weird his teeth felt after having clenched them too tightly. Sam sighed; his head didn't hurt too much as the other pain took control. There was a hint of hysteria that wanted to escape him as his eyes watered and he started to sob. It was always the same. But he was weak and stupid; he couldn't refrain from grabbing a damn razor from the trash, he wanted to feel good for a few seconds. To feel control as all his rage was concentrated in one point.

Sam laughed harshly at how pathetic he was, how disgusting.

Who would want to be around with someone as messed up as me? he thought, pressing again the toilet paper roughly against his cut, wishing that it was the razor instead in his fingers. He wanted more, to punch, to press once again and other; wanted to grab the edge and cut more deeply, but this time slash the skin. More cuts on his tights, one above the other.

He wondered if he could form a perfect circle with that little thing. Instead, Sam decided to press his fingernails on his head with his left hand, crying, wanting to dig his nails into his sides, scratch his face and neck. He wanted to pull his hair out.

He didn't. He liked when Lucifer stroked his hair, after all.

"Why I always do this, Lucifer?" Sam whispered brokenly to no one, staring at the razor in his hand. He should throw it. He should. But he was a weak, pathetic human.

Hearing the familiar flutter of wings, Sam tensed, shutting his eyes tight when Lucifer started to kneel in front of him. He tried to concentrate in his respiration, not possessing the courage to look up, afraid to find a disappointed face. His mind was searching for some excuse to leave the room, to go outside and wait until Lucifer had left. When he realized that he didn't need an excuse to give and was ready to stand up, Lucifer touched his elbow.

He opened his eyes when the gentle touch slowly moved towards his hand, stroking the top of Sam's palm with his fingertips, grabbing the razor and making it disappear. Lucifer interlaced their fingers and pulled them close to kiss them, ignoring how sweaty his palms were. Sam flinched slightly but finally looked up, seeing the concern written clearly all over his face.

"Sam─"

"Don't." He stopped him, knowing that it wouldn't matter what Lucifer said, Sam would think that was out of pity. "Just don't, please."

Sam turned away when he felt a hand brushing his cheek. Lucifer talked in a language he couldn't understand as he started to embrace him with his wings. Sam wanted to push Lucifer away but he just clenched his teeth and closed his eyes, because he wanted to be held too, to feel the other's presence, afraid that he would go and leave him if Sam moved. He didn't want to lose him, though wouldn't surprise him if he did.

Lucifer cleaned the trail of tears on his cheeks with a napkin, letting a small breath of relief when Sam's lips curled and he leaned tiredly into him. Sam couldn't remember when his pants had been put in place but he noticed it when he started to hug Lucifer, almost desperately, as if he were a drown man trying to grab a float. Lucifer received all of this and even pressed him closer against him, waiting until Sam had calmed down and the sobs had subsided.

"When my brothers and I were young we used to create things," Lucifer whispered against his hair. "Michael took the feathers the younger angels shed to made stars more brilliant, naming them after the owner. Raphael loved to learn from Earth but still tried to remodel some mountains and rivers, giving them more life and beauty that not even humans could ever destroy."

"Gabriel and I though? We created life." Sam could hear Lucifer's smile. "Using our Father's work as a model we made our own animals and plants. Michael thought that Father was going to be angry if it was made known what we had done, but we still did it. It was fun. Blasphemy wasn't in our vocabulary yet."

Sam sighed as he pulled apart, the coolness of Lucifer's wings managing to calm him. He tried to concentrate in the spark of curiosity he felt instead of the tiredness.

"Did God found out?"

Lucifer smiled and Sam felt his wings lingering a little more before they retreated too. "Eventually, yes. What do you think Australia is for?"

Sam scoffed tiredly. "So Australia is like an angelical fridge?"

It startled him when Lucifer started playing with their hands again.

"I don't understand that reference."

He smiled as he kept watching Lucifer; his eyes tired from crying.

* * *

The next time he opened his eyes and looked around he realized that he was no longer in the bathroom, but on his bed, Lucifer next to him, stroking slowly the hair on his neck. The lights were off and he could see faintly the reflection of the moon coming through the small window. Sam didn't know when he had taken a nap but it didn't seem it had passed to long.

"I made the nurses ignore your room when they were announcing dinner, but this is the only the time I'd do it." Lucifer leaned on an elbow, his fingers lingering on his shoulder. "I can snap some food if you want to."

Sam sighed and turned to look up at the white, pale ceiling. Hearing the sound of the watch on the wall, he murmured, "I don't want to be here."

He felt Lucifer tensing. "Sam, I-" He started apologizing, but stopped when Sam shook his head.

"No, I didn't mean that." He glanced up at him and turned his body to the side, feeling the cut sting on his tights. "I just want to go out of this room."

"Well... there is a festival in Brazil that's going to start very soon." Lucifer hummed as he leaned close to brush his nose on Sam's cheek. "Would you like to go with me?"

Sam raised his eyebrows and feeling his throat tight for a second, he asked, "Are you asking me out?"

Lucifer grinned. "Yes, Sam. I'm asking you out."

Sam rubbed his face tiredly with a hand and took a deep breath through his nose, feeling his lips quirking up before he nodded. So what if he was the Devil? Sam still loved him.

"I think I'd like to."

* * *

Lucifer took them to some high place, at the edge of a building, where they could be alone but at the same time they would had a clear view of the festival that was going to start in a few minutes. He could feel Sam's soul vibrating with distress next to him; he wanted to ask and talk more with him but felt that Sam wouldn't appreciate that at moment. There was a hint of fear in his soul and Lucifer didn't like to know that Sam was feeling afraid of him.

"So, you like this type of music?" Sam asked looking down at the different dresses people wore.

"Well, it's a little primitive," Lucifer mentioned, hearing the music that was already playing. The souls under them shone in excitement as some started to dance. "But better from what I expected humans could make."

Instead of arguing as he anticipated, Sam's eyes lit up. "That's right; you're an angel of music."

Lucifer smiled, glad to see Sam's soul lighten. "Yes, I was one of the angels that sang praises to my father, and the best one of all, if I can say it myself."

"I read that you have one of the prettiest voices of all angels. I know it's not your real voice what I'm hearing now..." Sam's soul lit with embarrassment. "Not that the voice you've now isn't good or something."

"Do you like my voice, Sam?"

Sam cleared his throat and looked down at his lips briefly. "But it's not your real one, right?"

"Not, it isn't." Sam's face turned sheepish and Lucifer wanted to kiss him so badly. He knew what he wanted to ask even before he opened his mouth. "I'd love to speak to you with my true voice but I can't, Sam."

"Some angelic rule?"

"Sadly, no. I'd break that rule gladly if that were the case. Is just that humans can't handle our real voices, your eardrums would explode if I tried to talk."

"Yeah, that would be bad." Sam bit his lips, he wanted to add something more but a loud explosion made both of their heads turn. The sky lit up in radiant colors that made him remember of Michael's wings when they were in the Antarctica, but the sight before him wasn't as pleasing and delicate as an aurora; it was something rawer but still dazzling. He couldn't help but think that it would be a fitting comparison between an angel's grace and a human's soul. He glanced at his left and saw Sam looking at the sky with childish adoration as the music playing accompanied the explosions.

"So I guess these are the famous fireworks." Lucifer moved his wing to Sam's side, protecting him from the wind.

"What?"

"I flew close to this place a few days ago and saw that there were papers that mentioned fireworks above there."

Sam's eyebrows quirked in interest. "At what speed do you fly? Because it felt like a second when you flew me here."

"It was almost a second."

Sam snorted and frowned, trying to look where he had pointed. "Those papers are really small, I can barely notice them; you must have a great eye." He resigned when the people started to dance close to those papers, covering the sight of them. "Do you like fireworks then?"

"I've never had the chance to see them by myself. But I remember you telling me how much you liked them."

"Yeah, I like them." He looked up, eyes softening. "Dad and mom used to take Dean and me to watch them in the fourth; after mom died Dad didn't want to go, but that didn't stop Dean from managing to obtain the money so we could go to some road to light the few he bought." Sam sighed. "I haven't seen fireworks in years."

Lucifer waved a hand and made a couch float behind. He smiled when Sam sat next him. "It was okay for us to come here?"

"Yeah," Sam spoke softly as he turned to look at him. "Thanks for bringing me."

Sam's hand curled around his scalp and Lucifer moved when he pulled him in, smiling when he felt Sam's lips on his own. There were really few the times Sam had initiated their kissing, all of them having always having a meaning behind. He felt gratitude in the gesture, but also the love behind too, a sentiment so pure and wonderful. And it was directed solely to him. Lucifer couldn't help but crave for more when Sam's soul reached for him, to deepen their kiss and bath himself in Sam's soul, wrapping it within him. He reached with his grace to brush it, leaving some pieces of him there and Sam's soul lit even brighter.

Sam was almost sitting on his lap by then, legs spread at his sides as he kept pulling him closer.

Lucifer wanted grab him tightly, to keep kissing him until Sam forgot where he was. Marking him for all to see. Making him His.

However, it didn't seem fair considering what had happened a few hours ago. So he stopped, smoothing their kiss, reducing their intensity until he could retreat slightly. Leaving one more chaste kiss at the corner of his lips. Sam was out of breath, flushed and beautiful with his lips slightly red. He cleaned the corner of his lower lip with a thumb and Lucifer huffed a breath in amusement when he noticed Sam's soul still reaching for him slowly, not as desperately as when they kissed.

"Are you okay?"

Lucifer sighed dramatically. "Besides the conscience I seem to have whenever I'm with you? Yes."

"Growing a conscience?" Sam frowned at him for a second before he looked away. "Eh, I don't think you'd be able to coerce me into having sex on the roof of some building."

Lucifer blinked and couldn't avoid the laugh that escaped him, so rich that he could even feel his eyes watering. The way Sam's nervousness turned into a confused amusement made it even better.

"Oh, I love how you've said 'think', Sam." Lucifer stroked the back of Sam's his hair, reaching for him to brush his nose against his neck. "I also love were your mind is going."

Sam pushed his head away. "I can't have sex so stop it!"

Lucifer glanced down at Sam's crotch and hummed. "A shame." Lucifer pushed Sam down to the couch and lay on top of him, changing the gravity surrounding him so he wouldn't weight anything. Sam's confused and surprised face was worth it.

"It would have be a turn off if we kept going and we just remembered in the last moment that I, uh..."

Lucifer smirked. "That you are impotent?"

"It's only because of my pills!" he said between clenched teeth and blushed cheeks. Lucifer kissed him again because he looked adorable.

"Do you really think that I can't erase the medicament of your system with a thought?" Lucifer joked, his grace brushing Sam's body to feel the effect of the pills he took, frowning when he noticed something weird.

"Don't do that. I'd get worse if they're simply taken from me."

He blinked at Sam's serious tone.

"They're gone," Lucifer said. "I can barely feel them in your system."

"What do you mean with that?"

"I always could feel some trace of them." Sam sat upright when the yells of happiness under them became louder and panicked. "That's the reason of your headaches and fever. Your dopamine was lower too and the synapses─"

"Lucifer, what are you doing? The ground is trembling. If you're doing this then stop."

Lucifer didn't hear him. The sudden strength of the emotion blinded him. His teeth were clenched, his body felt small with his anger bubbling his grace into something dangerous. He was ready to burst and destroy. However, he stopped when he felt Sam grabbing his arm, his soul brushing his grace. The fear he sensed startled him, but the worry in Sam was the one that made Lucifer look down, finally noticing how the people were running as the floor trembled. Kids tumbled as they cried for their mothers. Their couch was floating so he hadn't realized that he had made the closest tectonic plates brush against each other, causing a tremor. He waved a hand and stopped it, still trying to calm the anger stirring within him.

Sam laughed nervously. "Well, I hadn't expected that."

Lucifer didn't laugh with him. The anger was still there.

"Sam, we need to go to the hospital. Immediately."

* * *

Sam told Lucifer to go to some place secluded from population to calm down, because even when he said that he was fine, it only took to glance at the sky and see the clouds above to notice that the weather wasn't normal and far from fine. There was a rainy overcast that seemed to follow Lucifer's mood around. Sam had told him that his doctor had probably changed his meds to one that didn't work on him and he hadn't heard when he had told him, distracted as he was because of his headaches. He seriously doubted that, but he'd have said anything at that moment to make Lucifer go away─ not because he wanted to, but he was worried for the people around him.

He had never seen Lucifer like that. The air that surrounded him was heavier, there were sparks of electricity whenever he touched his skin, and his cool blue eyes glinted as he kept looking at his body as if could see right through. Promising a slow death to whoever had done it. It scared him and amazed him at the same time, that he was the cause of that anger.

"So it was true." Sam turned around, startled, and saw Magdolna behind him in the hall.

"I know it's late, but I need to talk with the head nurse. I think they changed my meds and─" She rolled her eyes at his attempt of a smile.

"Okay, moose. Call Lucifer now." Sam blinked at her tone, noticing for the first time the knife on her hand. "I can't pray to him because I don't have a soul, so you need to do it."

"What?'" Sam tried to step away but she grabbed his arm, stopping him from moving. "Who are you?"

"Don't remember me? I sure remember you, Sammy boy. After all, I was the one who introduced you into your new boy toy life."

She smiled widely, her eyes turning black, and Sam felt a familiar chill run through his body as he looked at her eyes.

"God, you were that demon," he whispered, trying to move his arm away after recognizing that sadistic smile, even if it was in a different body.

"Glad to know that you aren't a lost cause." Sam punched her with all his strength, only managing to move her, but the grip on his arm was still the same. He moved his leg, ready to kick her but felt his body stiffening.

She smiled bloody teeth. "Call Lucifer _now_."

Sam blinked and couldn't believe how annoyed his next words came. "You know that he's going to kill you, right? He's not exactly in a good mood right now."

"Hard to not notice. Now I've to make sure nothing happens to you because it seems that you were more valuable than I had thought."

"I don't get it."

The expressions on her face had changed completely from what he was used to, but it was the same body he was used to talk to; so that may explain what it was so easier for him to talk back. That or being around Lucifer had already accustomed him to be around powerful beings.

"I've been fooled." She snarled, her smile sharpening. "But I'll get my revenge soon. I need first to clear things out with my lord before some other demon comes and kills you."

"Now, now. What is this?" Sam looked over his shoulder and saw a strange man behind them, his eyes glinted yellow as he looked at Magdolna. "It seems that you've brought him to me, my daughter."

"I've been dying to see you again, _Dad_. You always knew how important moose was for our Father, didn't you."

The demon started to walk forwards. "Guilty."

"And you think I'm going to give the boy toy to you?" She scoffed. "Azazel, even if you manage to take him from me, do you really think Lucifer isn't going to destroy you when he finds you? Because he will."

"Oh, I'm hoping that he founds me." Her face turned serious when the yellow-eyed demon pulled an old gun from his back. "And I'll use this against him."

"Call Lucifer," she whispered harshly at him and Sam was ready to do it, but he heard the sound of patient screaming far away and shut his mouth instantly. Lucifer barely could refrain himself from doing damage in the annoyed state he was now, if he called him and saw this he'd end destroying the entire place, probably the city.

"No," he whispered back, feeling the grip on his arm tightening.

"That's the spirit, Sam." The demon cheered before turning towards Magdolna, pointing the gun at her. "Now, Meg. I still need some distraction before I can get all the things ready for Lucifer; and you're going to be really helpful."

Sam swallowed as the yellow eyed started chanting some words and saw how black smoke poured from the body next him. Feeling the grip on his arm finally loose, he helped the body to not fall and grabbed the knife. He turned quickly and tried to stab the demon, but found himself pressed against a wall instead, unable to move.

He smiled as he pressed his hand on Sam's chest; he felt a burning sensation in him that started to spread from the place he had touched, making his mind go slowly black. "I'm Azazel, Sam. And I'll be your host tonight."


	5. Annoyed and angry

Lucifer pressed his lips together into a thin line, his fingers rubbed roughly against each other, grace's dust falling from the tips as it turned everything it touched into hot searing ice. Wanting nothing more than to return to the hospital to search intently in all the souls that were in there, and then to do the same in the whole city. To not stop until he had someone ─something─ to destroy; but that flicker of fear he had sensed deep inside Sam's soul, the one that had started sparkling since he turned to look out of the window and saw the storm forming above after he transported them back to his room.

_"You need to control yourself,"_ he had said. Lucifer's feathers bristled, remembering hearing the same words in another context. _"Go to a place where there are no humans and calm yourself."_

It had been an impulse, so far from his nature, that made him lean to kiss him, to soothe his scared light, hungry to feel his love again. Sam, unlike his soul, didn't recoil away from his touch, instead, he deepened the kiss as if he knew and wanted to reassure him, but it quickly morphed into a fight of wills, of who was right. No one wanted to recede, but then a lightning cracked outside and Sam won.

A palm moved between their bodies, pushing gently against his chest for him to move away. He looked up at him; there was a peck of doubt and want in his eyes but it was accompanied with steel determination as he whispered, _"Go, and calm yourself, Lucifer."_

Perhaps Lucifer could have convinced him of staying if he had held him tighter, breathed against his neck, left more pecks on his mouth ─he sighed─ but he did not want Sam to have to fight against his own morals, to have to choose between them and him. Besides, one of the things he had learnt to love, and admire, about Sam had been that, his selfness, his care, even if sometimes bothered him.

Lucifer sent a dust of grace towards a tree and saw how it demolished itself. He did not know why he had chosen that place, after leaving one more kiss to Sam's lips he only wanted to be alone, and in that moment a dessert on Africa secluded from society seemed like the perfect place; a fallen trunk looked like the ideal spot to sit.

He glanced up at the teary sky; his mood was already altering the weather, engulfing the previous silence it had had when he came. Big heavy drops fell from the sky nonstop, making it hard to see anything but his nose. He was lucky that the sound of such display deafened the anguished cries of animals and humans from afar, as they did the same, shouting at the sky as they blamed the anger of gods for punishing them. They were irritating.

He closed his eyes, his mind sharp as it calculated every way to destroy them. How easily it would be to poke the earth's center and see how everything erupted, or to press a feather against a plaque and then from above see how all trembled until it destroyed. He wanted to bath himself in the cries of those souls.

He wondered if that would be enough to calm him.

His Father once accused him of having too much anger, of not possessing control. That his voraciousness, jealousy, pride, ─his urge to destroy─ would only end with nothing but himself.

That time he had flared his wings at his Father, sneered at the accusations, ready to accept the bet, to prove him that he could and would obliterate every─ and that perhaps was not the best way to relax.

Lucifer opened his eyes. He could still feel the electric sensation of his power singing through his vessel with blinding pressure, as if it were Hell's fire spreading through his veins, burning cold as it built and built deep inside him. It made his skin feel too tight to retain his grace. It felt as if only one tug was needed for him to finally explode.

He blinked when he sensed a familiar energy approaching; the storm above him parted in two like the red sea as it came closer. Lucifer could have easily flown the intruder away, send thunders with tendrils of his grace to give a warning. He didn't though. Instead, he pressed his wings tight against his back, drew his fractured grace together, not wanting to give anything away, Lucifer waited, breathing through his nose when he recognized the energy seconds before it appeared a few steps away from him wearing a female vessel.

"Lucifer," Raphael greeted him. Like him, the drops that fell did not touch her; it merely formed a shield around her, making her black skin shine in an ethereal way.

She would have looked astounding, but her posture was too frigid and her eyes gleamed with indifference. Lucifer's throat went tight. He remembered her being curious, always was close to dying stars, watching as they implode; sometimes near recently created ones, enjoying their creation; or simply behind Michael, wanting to learn more from the eldest. She could literally spend years marveling at one rock.

Raphael had always being the most gentle of them. The one whose grace emanated understanding, compassion, trust. She was Father's Healer.

But now though?

He could barely see ─ _feel_ ─ his sister in the angel standing in front of him. There was some rigidity and dejection he had never felt in Raphael before. A heartlessness. Her wings no longer crystalline and calm, but flickering, as if they were made of thunders, collating between one and another in constant ferocity.

Lucifer, once again, faced the consequences of his acts, of his pride. Not only Gabriel, their youngest, had crumbled because of the war.

His grace prickled uneasily when he grinned. "Raphael, what do I owe this pleasure?"

She looked at him as if it were a burden to be on his presence. "Michael wants you to stop altering the ecosystem of this country."

He couldn't help but scoff.

"Oh, that's nice," he said, making a show of looking around as he edged closer. "And where is he? I'm sure that he hasn't just sent you to play messenger, right?"

Raphael scrunched slightly her nose at Lucifer's closeness. "You are not Michael's only concern, Lucifer," she snarled. "Michael cannot ignore his own responsibilities to come here to deal with your tantrums."

Lucifer's grace flared for a second. He moved his hand slowly towards her and smirked. "Hasn't anyone taught you to respect your elders, little sister?" His hand brushed her cheek, letting his grace linger a little closer to his fingertips, enough for Raphael to feel it.

She tried to look unfazed, but Lucifer saw how her wings twitched as she stepped into Lucifer's space. "You are not my brother," she spat.

He hummed nonchalantly while backed away. He would not confess it to anyone, perhaps to Sam, but that confession felt like a stab on his grace. "I take that you don't agree with Michael about my situation, then?"

She glared at him as she turned slightly away from him. "Michael just does not want to destroy Father's work yet," she said, and there was something curious lingering in her tone. Something familiar.

"Oh, I know what's happening here." He touched faintly her arm, making her look directly at him. "You wished that when I got out of the Cage," he purred, "I had destroyed everything, yes?"

Her eyes grew colder, guarded, as she spun around, an angel blade in her hand. The movement looked natural, practiced on her– She was the Healer; she wasn't supposed to learn that. She aimed to slice his face but he twisted back, grabbing it easily with his naked palm. He regained his balance and pushed her forward, moving the tip of the blade towards her chin. His grace poured from the grip, bright drops rolling from his hand.

"You used to be wise," he murmured against her ear.

The corner of her lips quirked up as she looked at him with pity. "Are we going to talk about what we used to be, Lucifer?"

His teeth flared in a sharp smile, his grip tightened on the blade, but a thunder cracked above them and he remembered Sam. He darted his eyes away from her for a second before he smiled, ready to make some remark and─

"Or perhaps you're not so stupid," Lucifer said after a beat. "Perhaps you want me to kill you so Michael will bring all Heaven down to me." The way Raphael's feathers flicked was the answer he needed. "Perhaps, unlike Michael, you want the Apocalypse to start." He leaned even more into her personal space, pushing the blade up until a trail of grace bled from her chin. "A little kamikaze, don't you think?"

"I will do whatever is needed to bring our Paradise." She flared her wings dangerously, but he pressed them down using his own. Lucifer smiled, remembering her puffing her wings in annoyance when he took her favorite asteroids away. She was a beautiful fledgling.

His eyebrows knit in realization. "Your pride is the only thing that impedes you from stabbing yourself, right?" He released her; the tips of his feathers lingered against her wing for a moment too long. "And what does Michael think of your little plan, um?"

Her wings fluttered once, clearly angry at being manhandled. He thought she was going to snarl at him but she glanced away and, for a moment, her eyes glimmered with something ancient ─ something weary and sad. Not looking at all like the little sister of his memories. "Michael does not know." She looked up at him, eyes hard and angry, but he also noticed some longing, a want to be understood. Lucifer remembered that sentiment. "We are tired, Lucifer," she confessed.

He glanced briefly at the side, not being able to hold her stare. "So you don't think that Father will return as Michael does?" His eyes skimmed her form. "Or is that you don't care about the repercussions your action will-"

"Father is dead," she said bitterly, surprising him the sudden interruption.

Lucifer hummed as he played with Raphael's blade. He supposed that it was easier to think that way. Easier than thinking that He simply did not care. He wanted to smile at the innocence of that statement.

He draw his eyes away though. The sky was clearing. "I suppose your plans were hammered when Michael came to talk to me."

"Please," she scoffed. "As id we wouldn't thought that you would try to back stab him whenever you could."

"Oh, I can feel the love here."

Confusion showed on her face momentarily before he waved his hand for her to continue; he had spent too many time around humans.

She scoffed. "Our plans were hammered when you started meddling with one of those mud monke-"

Lucifer moved fast and pressed a palm against her chest, up above her sternum, and sent her core deep insider her vessel. Raphael gasped as she grabbed his arm, trying to move it away.

It had been a trick they had used in the old days, when they, Michael and Lucifer, taught her how to control her energy properly. Before, she could spent days trying to free her grace, but now it would merely last a few seconds with her being powerless. But a few seconds were enough.

"Be careful of your words, Raphael." His voice was a soft, dangerous rumble. "I don't want to destroy you."

The air around them grew thicker as Raphael tilted her head, her eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Is really that pet so important?"

"He is." Lucifer pushed her down to the floor as he answered without thinking, surprising her.

Her face contorted in disgust. "Why?"

"Weren't you supposed to cherish them? To take care of them?" Lucifer huffed. "But now the only thing you do is to look at them as if they were beneath you."

"Are you scolding me for my lack─"

"I wasn't the one who knelt," he said hastily. "I wasn't the one who followed orders that didn't want to obey. Humans accuse me of lying." He laughed bitterly. "I was one of the few that remained true to themselves─who didn't lie."

"Then what are you doing here?" she snarled. "Why the Apocalypse has not started?"

Raphael pushed him away forcibly. "I have Free Will, didn't you know?" Lucifer used his stumble to back away and spread his arms out. "I can do whatever I want."

She frowned, scrutinizing his easy smile and posture.

"What has that human done to you?" She shook her head. "If he were dead-"

He unconsciously reached with his grace to feel the flicker of Sam's soul in the other side of the world. "If you ever try to do anything to him," his voice was deadly and cold. "I swear that─" He stopped and in one fluid, deadly movement, he had Raphael pinned against the floor, her own blade pressed forcibly against her chest. "Where is he?"

Raphael growled. Her wings beat once, throwing him off balance, but he unfolded his own to regain it.

Lucifer stomped his foot against the floor, making it tremble. "_Where is he?_" he repeated, anger seeping in his tone, his true voice a step away from leaking out.

Heavy storm clouds hung overhead; the sky was again hazy and dark as he himself felt. The trees shifted away from them, wind attempting to knock them over, as they kept glaring at each other.

The clouds cracked, Lucifer realized, a lot more than they should be. The cracks on the floor that he created with his stomp started pouring lava, the claps of thunder were louder and closer, a step away from touching the red liquid. Raphael's own anger was making the heat hid bellow push up. She noticed and sparing no moment, send the substance straight after his wings, but Lucifer moved at the side, but Raphael used that moment to throw herself towards him, sweeping a wing forward in an attempt to knock him away, trying to shove him against the hot lava.

If Lucifer wasn't so angry he would have scoffed as he flew past where she was. Even if his sister had faced battle before, her movements didn't posses the deadly precision and subtlety of Michael's.

Raphael roared as she electrified everything around her, burning it. Lucifer felt his own vessel's skin peeling as he shook his feathers, turning everything into ice. Sneering as he was close to his sister, he slammed a force into her back, between her shoulder blades, almost knocking her to the ground. She tried to fly away but the cold power he sent made her appendages move slower.

He grabbed her by the hair with his free hand. "Where is he?" he demanded, digging the blade into her right wing. She roared and the earth trembled with the sound. Trees fell but Lucifer didn't relent. "_Tell me!_"

He took the blade out and held it high again, ready to make another strike; a deadly one.

"_**Stop**_," a voice rang from the skies. Lucifer he felt a hand grabbing the blade on his hand and he flew into safety. He turned around, a couple of steps away, and saw Michael standing behind him, wings just slightly bigger than his own, spread wide, glowing in the darkness of the night. But the stars that always lingered on Michael's feathers were dim and unnoticeable. He was going to ask 'what's wrong' but stopped himself, choosing to bare his teeth instead. Michael unsheathed his Flaming sword. Red turning gold gleamed on his palm, vibrating as it engulfed all the light around them.

Lucifer wanted to shed the vessel he wore, to fight, remembering the last time he had seen that particular weapon, but he darted his eyes towards the destruction around them and a voice, a small voice that sounded suspiciously like his own, said, 'Sam is going to be so mad at me'. It was a fluttering thought, but it was enough to make him realize of the small differences between this encounter and the previous one. Enough to make him stop.

Michael's sword didn't hold the rage of all his brothers and sisters, it wasn't held by an archangel in armor with his true face flickering because of his rage, shredded grace from their siblings covering its plate. He wasn't in that war. Lucifer breathed─ He could think.

Michael walked towards him. The light of the Sword flickered. No, it was reality the one that flickered around the sword, confused in how to take it all, how to control that power. How to make this plane work around it. Pieces of earth started to float around it, wanting to be closer, pulled by the center of gravity the weapon had. Lucifer knew that it was the same of a dying star; he knew that if it wasn't in Michael's grip, it would take no time for the earth to start gravitating around it.

Speaking in his true voice, Michael glanced at the side. "_I gave you a simple order, Raphael: Stop Lucifer from altering the ecosystem of this place."_ The light on his palm made the shadows of disappointment on his face sharper. "_Look at what both of you had done_."

Lucifer wanted to snort, considering what his own Sword was starting to do more damage to the ecosystem of the whole world than their petty fight. Taking into account that Michael's sword was still on sight, Lucifer made his own cold lightning one appear from thin air, the one given to him in the same moment Father gave Michael his own.

His brother tore his eyes away from their sister to look at him.

"Where is Sam, Michael," Lucifer said with more control that he thought his voice would come.

A light frown creased between Michael's eyebrows, it smoothed when realization hit.

"I do not know," he answered and Lucifer launched at him, their swords pushed against each other. A hole formed beneath their feet as all Earth shook. "Don't you dare to lie to me, Michael." Lucifer felt his own vessel decaying, not able to contain all his fury. "No one but you knew that he existed. No one but you knew how much I cared."

Michael pressed more force into his grip, but there wasn't any anger in the action. "Don't get your impulses domain you, Lucifer," he said, looking him dead in the eye. "Don't throw away everything for one human." The way he said the word 'human' made him growl, his true voice crawling out like a graceful predator searching for a prey. It came deep and gravely, not having used it in a long long while. But it was still beautiful as it was when he sang his first praise to their Father.

Michael eyelids dropped, his all demeanor softened. Lucifer didn't think that he would have been able to catch the shift if he weren't as close as he was from him, but a blink passed and he again was the Michael he remembered standing in front of him.

"Are we really the only ones who know about your human?" he asked quietly, his voice barely above a murmur.

The true curiosity he found in his eyes made him back away and, when Michael didn't follow, he sheathed his sword. "The only ones who kept prodding— visiting timelines and being noisy in general, yes."

Michael followed his action and made his own sword disappear, every rock fell as reality breathed in relief.

"What about demons?" Raphael asked, sounding bored. He turned towards her voice; she stood close to the edge of the hole they had formed, her right wing slightly drooped at her side. "Does someone of that scum knows about your precious human?"

Lucifer wanted to scoff. What kind of fool does he thought he was?

But then he remembered.

One did know about Sam and his deal; the one that was supposed to have sealed the deal in the first place.

"Meg," he said through clenched teeth. She was one of his most faithful, but she was now the queen of crossroads and information in that branch was very important ─Lilith went against him and Crowley had escaped after that little problem with the hellhounds─.

He looked down and searched, wanting nothing more but to destroy all Hell in that moment when he realized that there wasn't any hint of her there. Not that that would surprise him though, considering that the recent demons he had encountered were able to hide from him.

"I'll help you," Michael spoke from afar. Lucifer didn't bother to look behind him as he answered. "I don't need your help."

His voice was soft when he asked, "Is your pride stronger than your love for the human then?"

"His name is Sam," he snarled, turning to glare at the calm patience his brother possessed. Lucifer was the first to cast his eyes away, silently accepting the offer.

"I'll take Raphael to Heaven for recovering first." Michael said glancing towards Raphael direction.

"I am no fledgling, Michael." Her voice was hard but still respectful. "You're the one who needs to go there, not me."

If he weren't so worried about Sam, Lucifer knew that he would have gave more consideration to his sister's words. But he was full of impatience because he didn't know if Sam was alive and not even the steady power from the earth that he could feel pulsing under his feet could calm him.

"I'll search Hell, take care of the rest of the world." He said before turning towards Michael as he extended his wings. "Look carefully into Sioux Falls."

"Are you going to help?" Michael asked Raphael.

Lucifer didn't have the opportunity to heard the answer. He was already flying.

* * *

"Remember that little favor you owed me?" A voice called him from behind and he couldn't help the smile that spread on his expression as he took a sip from his glass of scotch.

"My, my. What has made you get out of your little rock?" he asked, slowly turning towards the intruder. "I thought you would hide better, everything considered."

The man shrugged. "The first couple of years I did that, as you well know," he pointed, "but then I peered from my hole and found that there wasn't any destruction around, so I guessed it was safe to go out."

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Well, part of it may have been influenced in the fact that my brother has fallen in love of human." His intruder sat on his leather couch as if it was his own, a lollipop appearing in his hands.

"Didn't see that one coming, right?"

"It was indeed a surprise, a little ironic too." His intruder grinned.

He took a sip from his glass and settled on the seat in front of him. "So what do you want from me?"

The other hummed, popping out the candy from his mouth. "Well, little bird told me that certain important piece is in your hands and it would be nice of you if you let her out, something not too suspicious, of course."

"Already done." His intruder raised both of his eyebrows in clear surprise, before he could ask 'why' Crowley shrugged. "You know me. I am a romantic at heart."

"Huh, so it doesn't have to do with what little ol' Lucy would do if he hulks out?" His intruder scoffed. "And here I thought that you were with Azazel all along. Heard that his hellhounds ate your tailor and all."

"A little sacrifice for the imbecile of Azazel to trust me." He rolled his eyes. "He wasn't sure of me not even after I gave him the gun."

Amber eyes frowned at him, a sharp grin formed on his face. "You slimy bastard. Double agent, huh?" He bit his lollipop, breaking it in two. "A little too 007 for you."

"I do have the accent."

Crowley pointed with his glass and his intruder chuckled.

"So I get that after this you'll get a huge promotion from my brother for your services." He grew uncharacteristically quiet as he leaned forward, his voice soft, contemplative. "I should kill you, you know. You're way too smart for your own good."

Crowley rested his glass on top of the small table next to his sit. "Then who will gossip you everything, uhm?"

The deadly smile he received from the other made something skitter down his back. He hid it fine though. "Sometimes I don't know if that's worth it."

He cleared his throat and stood up to walk towards his desk; he grabbed another glass and filled it with wine. "What if I owe you another favor then? You know I keep my promises." He turned; his smile was all business when he pointed the glass on his direction. "I just want a safe house to stay for a couple days."

Crowley almost sighed in relief when his intruder accepted the glass.


	6. Struggling

There was a circle of fire surrounding Lucifer. He did not move as it flickered around him; the light reflecting on his eyes shadowed his features in a way that made scarier the wounds on his face. His expression was sour, full of an unruly anger that belonged solely to a holy being, to something Else. Everything around him looked as if they wanted to come closer, marveled by the power that filled the air, wanting to taste it better, but, at the same time, it was as if they wanted to escape in fear, even the flames seemed to move away from him, wanting to put the most distance between them. It felt as if earth was holding his breath, waiting for Lucifer's next move in awe and fright.

Sam let a shaky gulp of air; it was terrifying. He had never seen Lucifer like this, so inhuman and surreal. The look of a predator as it saw the petty animal that it had stopped in front of him, looking ready to kill it, to destroy it for the lack of respect it had showed him by standing in his path. A raptor preparing to strike. It made the hair of his arms rise, his mouth dry.

He should be scared, Sam thought, he should be afraid. And he was. But a strongest, louder, part of him was worried at the injuries that looked painful in Lucifer's skin, at the fire that somehow seemed to constrict his form, at the lonely desperation he could see deep inside his gaze. He wanted to run towards him and caress his wounds, to murmur 'What had happened?' That part overpowered the smaller one, the one that screamed in horror, that wanted to run ─ but he had always ignored it so why would he start listening to it now?

Lucifer's eyes turned towards him as if it sensed his fear; Sam tried to move forward, towards the fire that circled him, when they softened at the sides as they locked eyes, but he couldn't. He couldn't even move his head, someone, something was grabbing him. He struggled, realizing with dread that there was a chest pressed against his back flushed against his body, grabbing him by the neck, a hand gripping him firmly by his left arm. He tried to see behind him, wanting to know who was the one that gripped his head tight, but it only caused the hold to tighten around his face until the feeling of his brain wanting to pour from his ears was all he could feel. He groaned.

"Stop," Lucifer growled and the windows trembled slightly. Sam clenched his eyes shut, screaming when his ears rang painfully, wanting nothing more but to cover them between his hands.

When he finally opened his eyes ─ his audition still deafened ─ he saw from his peripheral vision someone looming on his right. He tried to jerk his head around to see it better, being close as they were, but he couldn't see his face, instead, he noticed the old gun it held as it moved, and, for some reason, his eyes widened in fear. His body seemed scared of the small weapon, scared of the damage it could cause. He didn't know why or how, but he knew it was dangerous.

Sam tried to move his right hand, the one that wasn't in the other's grip, towards the gun, wanting to throw it away, but pain shot through his arm. He looked down at it, startled. By the time he looked up it was too late. The barrel was already against his temple.

Time passed quickly after that, but at the same time, it went slower. The sound of Lucifer's shout, his ears exploding, bright light that blinded him painfully; he tried ─wanted─ to close his eyes but then realized in a painful realization that it came from inside him. Fire spread through his veins, trickling heat welled in his bones. It hurt, it hurt too much. He couldn't take it. It came too quickly, too─

And then it was gone.

Sam opened slowly his eyes, a headache already forming against his temple. His breath was slightly shallow as he blinked in an attempt to clear the tears that were still wet against his cheeks. A cruel reminder of his dream.

He wanted to rub his throbbing head with a hand, make soft caresses at his temple (Dean used to do it when he was young whenever he was sick) but noticed the leather straps on his wrists that stopped him. He tried to stand up, but he ended groaning when his head spun too fast. Sam placed his head again against the hard surface, noticing for the first time the soft breeze that blew against his arms. Fright tried to settle in his stomach as chills ran involuntarily through his body, but he tried to calm himself, to think in all the possibilities before panicking.

He raised an eyebrow while his lips twitched unconsciously when an idea occurred him; Lucifer had a wicked sense of humor, it shouldn't surprised him to wake tied (and how fucked up was that?). Lately, the times had increased with him awaking to find Lucifer's cool skin pressed against him, nose nuzzling gently his neck, leg straddling possessively his waist, hand under his shirt caressing his side. It became normal. And the headache didn't surprise him either, he was already used to wake feeling feverish and tired. But his naked arms? He usually wore long sleeves, the only time he used a t-shirt being when he slept. Feeling the cool wind against his arm was a little unsettling. It seemed that someone had torn his sleeves away, leaving him like that before strapping him. Lucifer wouldn't do that. He usually took in account his discomfort, never pressing his boundaries. It was true that he wasn't so terrified of the idea of Lucifer tying him on a bed for fun as he thought he should be, but still.

He knew that if he explained Lucifer about his pain and embarrassment he would stop playing, perhaps would even apologize and give him soft kisses on his face while he healed his pain.

"Lucifer?" Sam croaked. The word echoed strangely around the room. Sam's vision was blurry, still sleepy, as he frowned around. Everything was dark, the soft light that came from somewhere making it slightly more visible, but only marking the shapes of the things that surrounded him. Sam was sure that he wasn't in any place he knew. There was something odd, deadly, in the silence. He cleared his throat and spoke more clearly, "Lucifer?"

"You have awoken?"

Sam turned his head quickly towards the sound of the voice and yeah, bad idea.

"My apologies," he said, sounding everything but sorry. "This was the best room we could find for our Lord's escort." Sam felt a hand grabbing forcefully his jaw, pulling him towards the voice, inclining his head to the side so lips would whisper onto his ear. "Hope you like our hospitality, Sam."

He opened his hand and let his head fall free. Sam grunted when his head thunked back against the surface. He tried to move but his ankles, like his wrists, were secured to the opposite ends of the bed.

The man hummed, walking around the bed as he saw Sam fighting with the chains before he decided to stand up the best he could so at least he would see better his face. "Who are you? What do you want from me?" Sam asked breathlessly, his head falling again. He was so tired.

"Ow, Sammy. We've just met and you already want to know all about me?" The condescending tone in his voice made him scrunch his nose. "That's a little too bold."

"Well, you're the one that has strapped me," Sam answered, surprised at how sarcastic he had sounded.

"A little feisty, huh?" he chuckled. The sound made something nasty swell in Sam's stomach. "I wonder why, though. You're just an insignificant human, after all."

There was a sound of ruffled papers and then, the bed started shaking slightly before it moved in a vertical position the next second, Sam going along with it. He gasped, his heart pounding hard against his rib cage. There was a snap of fingers and a bulb flickered up above them. He blinked, his eyes trying to get used to the sudden light and saw the room he was in. There were small tables around the bed, some weapons on top.

He turned his when the man walked closer, two other men standing behind him as bodyguards.

"Azazel," he said in a breath when he could see him better, using the name he heard Meg call him. His memory was a little fuzzy but he gradually was able to recall everything.

"So you remember me now?" A smile spread through his cheeks while his dead cold eyes rummaged the through a file on his hands.

Sam's mind worked slower because of the pain, but he could still connect dots just fine. He gave special thought to the conversation Azazel and Meg had before he went unconscious. "You want to use me as bait," he said.

"You're smart for a petty human." Azazel's looked up at him, smile broadening. "I wonder if that's why Lucifer is so enchanted with you?"

"Why are you doing this? He's going to kill you, you know."

"No if I have you, Sammy."

Sam greeted his teeth at the nickname. "You said it yourself," he said tightly. "I'm just a insignificant human."

"Of course you are." He turned the file so Sam could see it. He frowned and squinted at it, his headache made harder to read but his eyes widened when he saw his name on it. It was his file. "A depressed petty human."

"How did you─" Azazel raised an eyebrow, even Sam wanted to roll his eyes at his stupidity. "Okay, I get it. But why would you want to have it?"

"That hurts, you know? I just wanted to know you better, Sammy─"

"Don't call me like that."

"─Like," He continued, ignoring him, "I didn't know that your birthday was on May, or that you liked to read on clear spaces, or that your father died because of your fault."

"That…" Azazel leaned on the bed next to him and waved a hand.

"Oh, don't try to make excuses. I get it. I truly do." He pressed a hand against his chest, looking at him with what looked real concern on his features. It made him sick. "He was a drunk. He expended more money than he was worth. Made your brother work." He patted his arm soothingly, his lips moving close to his ear. "I would have done the same."

Sam swallowed. He had never told anyone about his dad, not even Jess, only Dean and his doctor knew ─Dr. Simigh signed a confidentiality agreement─ about how before his father crashed the car. The owner of the bar had called him, telling him to send Dean to drive him because John was too drunk, but his brother was tired that night and he knew that even if he went he would stay there a long time trying to convince their dad to go back. He was young and he thought that if perhaps something happened to John, perhaps some bar fight, he would stop drinking. He was stupid.

"You didn't say anything because you wanted something to happen to him," Azazel said as if reading his thoughts, lips hovering near his ear. "You wanted him to learn a lesson."

Sam clenched his teeth and tried to look at the other side, wanting to move away from those lips, but the demon grabbed his chin, and steadied him in place. "And even after he died, you didn't feel remorse, did you?"

Sam's throat went tight as he tried to swallow.

"Have you noticed," he said softly, "how everyone around you keeps dying? Your mom was the first, and then your Dad. The girlfriend and your brother were last." He smiled, as if Sam's features were a mere show he was watching. "Perhaps that problem wasn't them, it was you."

Sam swallowed. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, expecting plans and maquinations, something evil, not the pleased expression he had as he backed away. "Because it's fun," he said.

"Wha—"

"It'll be something poetic, you see. First I'll kill Lucifer, then Robert and Ellen, that little daughter of them too, so everyone you cared would be indeed dead. Just for kicks."

Sam's whole body went towards him, not caring of how his brain ached when he used all the force he had as he tried to break the bonds that tied him. "If you ever do anything to them, I swear-"

Azazel snorted at Sam's attempts. "Don't worry, Sammy boy. You and Lucifer will be dead long before I start with that crappy family."

It was now Sam's turn to snort. "You can't kill Lucifer."

"Yes, yes." He rolled his eyes. "Only an archangel can kill another. But you knew about this?" Azazel pulled a gun from his waistband, the same gun from his dream. "I present you the Colt, Sammy. The only weapon that can kill everything in Creation." He turned and shot one of the men that stood behind him.

Sam watched in horror as his eyes turned black as light shone from where the bullet had touched his skin, it spread around his entire body before he went slack to the floor. Azazel smiled at him. "It can kill your true essence. I just obliterated the demon's true form as well as the soul of the human inside the body."

Sam felt a gulp forming in his throat, his eyes locked momentarily with the other demon. He was scared too, but he hid it well as he glanced up, gulping before he looked straight at the wall, both hands behind his back.

He turned his head towards Azazel.

"Lucifer won't come for me," he said with determination. Maybe if he prayed to him and told him about the gun─ if he told him about Azazel.

"Of course he will. For some reason, he loves you." Sam blinked. "Why would he heal you if it wasn't the case?" Azazel shrugged nonchalantly. "I kept changing your pills. It would only take a few days for you to kill yourself, but for some reason you didn't. And that made me wonder why?" He tapped the barrel of the gun against his chin as in deep thought before his lips twitched upwards. "I realized that whenever the withdrawal started to work in you, Lucifer healed you. You didn't go towards the path I created for you, your will became stronger instead." His grin broadened, white terrifying teeth gleamed in the soft light. "If you had killed yourself the deal would be over, and he would be free, but he didn't. If he was merely fond of you then he wouldn't have done anything so you would be in Hell forever with him." Azazel said the last part while he took a cellphone out of his pocket.

"He doesn't want me to go to Hell," Sam breathed in realization.

"Exactly," he said, his fingers tapping something on his phone. Sam was still a little stunned by the time Azazel turned the phone to show him the screen.

"The news?" Sam asked, but immediately after watching it for a second, he got it. Some reporter was talking about the sudden change in the weather, how the temperature had dropped in some places while it increased in others. Sam looked in horror when they showed, from a helicopter perspective, the picture of a big, really big hole that formed on Africa, looking as if an explosion had occurred in the middle. Almost all the trees surrounding it were gone, obliterated. Some were covered in frost, others simply burnt. No one knew what was happening.

"God…"

"Has nothing to do with this," the demon said, a strange smile forming on his lips.

Very slowly, he tore his gaze away from the screen to look at him. "Is really Lucifer the one...?"

"Of course. He's not a human, Sam. He's an archangel." Azazel leaned close, his smile gained a grim hint. "He's one of the most powerful beings in Creation, one of the oldest. He was there when everything was created. Saw from the best chair how the famous Big Bang occurred… So it makes me wonder," he said, moving closer until they were a few breaths away. Sam turned his head to the side again, trying to get as far as possibly from those eyes. "What do you have that makes you especial?"

"I don't have anything," Sam spat when the gun moved near him.

"Oh, I know. You don't have anything that makes you better than the others of your kind." He swallowed when he moved the gun from his cheek to his jaw, trailing the tendon of his neck, and stopping when it reached his pulse, pressing forcibly until a whimper fought its way through his lips. "I have to admit that you are indeed pretty," he spoke pointing each word.

Sam tried to move but his body didn't answer his demands. It was like being in that crossroads all over again. His breath came raggedly, his throat constricted when the gun kept moving downwards, Azazel following each movement with his eyes. Goose bumps formed on his naked arms and his belly twitched when it slid lower, reaching his crotch.

"You can't get excited for too long because of your pills," he said, and Sam hissed in pain when he pressed the gun forcibly against his dick.

Azazel looked up at him again, smiling widely as he looked at his lips. "But perhaps you're good with your mouth?"

His stomach twirled when he brushed his hair, fingers trailing down their length until they closed in a vice grip. Sam tried to pull back, but it was a lost fight. The demon don't even blinked at his efforts. Sam pursed his lips and closed his eyes when he felt Azazel's lips on his, trying to not give the access to his mouth when he bit him hard enough to make him bleed, to resist the bites. He failed.

His body trembled as the demon made his way inside his mouth, so Sam bit him, hard, but the demon chuckled when his tongue was trapped between his teeth, his blood pouring into Sam's mouth. Terror, desperation, and impotence settled deep inside him as he tried to do everything he could to get away but the rest of his body didn't move as he felt the tongue inside him. A hand gripped him tightly from his hair, tugging his head up to access better and Sam wanted to throw up, wanted to be able to grab the gun and shot himself.

"Sir?" A voice called behind them, tearing Azazel's attention away from him.

Sam was trying to catch his breath by the time Azazel finally let him go and turned towards the man that was behind them. An invisible force grabbed the man from the throat, holding up in the air. His eyes turned black as he tried to gasp for air. "Don't you see that I'm busy?" he growled.

"Meg has disappeared, sir." The demon gasped, Sam noticed for the first time the headset that had fallen when Azazel looked down into the floor.

He let him go. "Speak."

"She escaped," he said nervously when his feet finally touched the ground.

"How did she escape?" Azazel frowned.

"Crowley doesn't know, sir."

"And where is he? Why he wasn't the one informing me about this?!"

The demon hunched his shoulders. "He just disappeared and we don't know where he is."

"That bastard," Azazel growled through clenched teeth, but that expression didn't last as it quickly morphed into a smile. "Well, then it just means that the show is going to start a little early." He turned completely around and walked forward, towards the door that now the demon was opening for him. "I'll see you in a few, Sammy, Gotta get all ready for our Lord, right?"

Sam wanted to sigh in relief as he saw him walk away, but his shoulders tensed when the demon stopped and looked over his shoulder, a wicked grin plastered on his face. "Don't bother praying," he said motioning the sigils that Sam had not seen before. "No one will be able to hear you while you're inside here."

He laughed, snapped his fingers and turned off the lights before he left. Sam let out a weak laugh when his body could move again. His head dropped under the weight of his relief, his whole body trembled as a sob escaped him; silent tears fell from his eyes as he spat, wanting nothing more but erase the taste of sulfur and blood of his bruised mouth. But his mouth was too dry, he couldn't.

"Lucifer?" Sam asked at the air. He knew that he had already called him after waking and that Azazel had told him it wouldn't work, but he had to try. "Lucifer, please relax."

No one come. There was no flutter of wings or anything. He hadn't realized of how much hope he had put in the words until his breath came raggedly, eyes going glassy as his lungs started to burn

He stilled and tried to inhale whatever air he could but his breath was too shallow. He clenched his hand. Sam knew he was at the edge of a panic attack, so he inhaled. Holding his breath for a few seconds before exhaling, and then he repeated. It hurt and was almost impossible the first times but he kept doing it, pressing his nails against his palm to ground him, sobs breaking his concentration from time to time.

Sam didn't bother in praying when he could think clearly again, instead, he thought in all the possibilities he had to escape. Lucifer was causing chaos on earth and it was his fault; he had to do something. He didn't think that he would be able to escape from that situation, but if he could at least leave the room, then maybe Lucifer would listen.

He looked around his mind frantically running through plans in his mind, trying to think in a way to escape. He eyed the leather chains on his wrist and, with desperation, he pushed his right arm forwards, trying to loosen the strap up. He repeated the action, not caring of how his wrist bruised and burnt.

He didn't know how long he kept doing that, but breathing was again something difficult to achieve, his sweat covered most of his body as he stopped when his wrist had a little more space. He blinked and tried to get his hand free, but it was still too small.

He pulled with more force, feeling his bones crying at the position they were forced into. Sam gritted his teeth, stopping the cry that wanted to squeeze his way out of his lips when he heard a weird sound as the bones of his fingers ceded.

His hand was free and already swelling around his thumb. He saw faintly one ring of black bruises with bloody scrapes was around his wrist where he had rubbed himself open and raw. Sam laughed wetly and before the relief settled inside him, he used the adrenaline that still shot through his body in his favor and tried to untie his left hand.

When there wasn't anything suspending him in an standing position, he fell. He put his left hand in front of his face, moving the right away from anything that could touch him, and grunted when pain ran through his body. Luckily, the straps weren't glued at the bed so they just bruised and did not break when he fell.

Sam tried to move in a position that would be easier to untie his ankles. The adrenaline was already leaving his body as he started to tremble. His left hand carried Sam's weight while he used the other to free him. His swelling thumb touched several times the bed while he untied the strap the bonds, making him hiss every time. Once free, he knelt, gasping with pain as he ignored the ache on his ankles as they protested to move. Placing one hand against the cold floor, he moved towards the dead body of the demon.

He wondered for a moment, what would Ellen and Bobby said if they knew what he was planning to do? How would Jo look at him?

He sighed. He needed a weapon, Sam repeated himself.

So he patted the demon's body until he felt the wet blood against his fingertips and the position of the wound was clear. He breathed deeply through his nose before he tried to reach the bullet. One finger, two fingers pushing deep inside the body, trying to reach a small bullet.

A shaky breath escaped him when he felt the smooth surface covered in blood. Clenching his teeth, he pulled it out with effort.

Trying to stop the bile that wanted to break out of his stomach, he stood up. His legs were weak, but he tried to stand up. The bullet itself wouldn't cause damage without the force to push it inside a body, but he had seen a wrench on top of one of the tables. Perhaps he could join both of them and make some kind of weapon.

His shoulder slumped against the rough wall when he was finally over, but he stilled in fear when the door made a soft thud that sounded too loud on his ears. He slowly moved towards where he had seen was the door, trying to hear what was happening on the other side.

There was silence.

He touched tentatively until he found the knob and opened it with carefulness, swallowing when it made a soft click. He pushed the door a little and breathed in relief when he saw on his left an empty hallway that lead towards the stairs. Pushing the door enough for his body to pass, he walked, using his uninjured hand to support him.

"Lucifer?" Sam whispered. He wasn't sure how to do this; it have been a long time since he had prayed and he never had done it like this. "First of all, calm yourself please and don't destroy anything." Sam chuckled brokenly at the absurdity of the situation, his heart hammering so fast that it was almost painful. He inhaled. "I don't know where I am but Azazel─ Azazel is the one behind all this, Meg tried to make me call you, but─" how did Sam said that he didn't call Lucifer because he was afraid of what he would do. "Just calm yourself. I─"

A door opened and Sam saw as a demon walked through. It took her a moment to notice him, but it was too late. Sam had already used his new weapon against her. He saw in panic how light fluttered inside her skull. He had never killed someone before, but it seemed that now he had the blood of a demon and a human on his hands. And part of his face too.

Oh, God.

He blinked when he heard the sound of steps approaching. Moving towards the woman's body, Sam tried to pull the bullet from her cheek. At least this time it wasn't to deep, he laughed weakly, almost hysterically.

"I don't have much time," he said, trying to silence his breathing as he started walking faster. Using the stairs was a little more difficult but Sam could do it. He needed to reach the light. "There is a gun, a powerful gun that Azazel has. It can kill everything and─"

A hand grabbed his elbow. He turned his head and saw in horror Azazel standing next to him.

"Sam!" he said. There was a smile on his lips as he pushed him forward, not letting him stump when his feet gave up at the pace. "What nice of you to come up, I was already going to retrieve you."

A broken cry escaped him as he placed a foot hard on the floor, using that moment of stability he tried to use all his body to push him away. "Let me go, you demon!" he said, but it didn't cause anything more than ruffle Azazel's clothes, enough for him to see the gun on his waistband.

The ground started to shake, slowly at first, but then increasing with ferocity as seconds passed. Sam used that moment to fight harder to get away from his grip, screaming and kicking; fighting with all he had. He escaped once when the air grew colder, using nothing more than teeth and punches. He ran even if his all body protested as he limped, but the place was full with demons and by the time he had reached to a door, several of them had already immobilized him.


	7. Searching and finding

A glimmering red light greeted him at the end of the hallway he had already been walking for two hours. He would have flown to the end but his wings were too injured. Grace poured from the wounds that had formed by crushing down structures made of brimstone, evaporating the souls that were close to becoming demons, in short, he had spent the entire time of his research destroying everything he found in his course with his appendages, not able to contain his fury every time he didn't find clues about Sam. The purple paths of bruises that danced over his body as his grace fought to come out was getting annoying and because of his lack of control, he couldn't heal himself.

He knew he didn't have much time left until his vessel exploded, annihilating anything that were close to him─ probably half of the USA and some of the weaker demons, and the worse was that he didn't care about the damage he could cause.

That was why he went to the last place he had left to search, the place he had promised himself not to return to.

Lucifer breathed even if he didn't need to do it when he finally reached the light, letting the foggy oxygen mixed with sulfur clear his head. The place where the rest of his Cage were was still the same he remembered, big and empty. The jail that had secluded him for so long wasn't there anymore, but the bits of his Father's power still lingered thick in the air, making him remember why he had promised never to return. But he didn't know where Sam was, or even if he was alive and the Cage was well hidden under all Hell; it was a good place to hide someone from him because it was no mystery to anyone how much Lucifer hated that place.

But even knowing that no demons could enter without ending crushed by the purity of the room, he had the knowledge that some of the demon's kin were smart enough to find an entrance. Besides, demons weren't the only ones in Hell, some of his brethren had fell with him too after all, and he didn't know with whom Meg was working with.

* * *

Hell shook again when a frustrated growl escaped him. The walls trembled in the silence that seemed to engulf the place since demons had run away to the other corner of Hell, and this because Lucifer didn't find Meg. Hours had passed without finding where Sam was and he just wanted to extend his wings and fly upstairs to search for him on earth, but Sam would be angry with him if he destroyed a country and he knew that in his state that would take no time to happen.

So without too many options, Lucifer clenched his fists and closed his eyes, trying to extend his senses until he was able to touch that link he hadn't used in years, the one that only archangels knew about and not even Michael would receive as he did with the others.

"Father," he spoke softly, barely above a whisper. He didn't need to be loud to be heard. He knew that his grace would guide his words beyond Hell's domain, from this plane to others until they found the right receptor. "If you want to keep punishing me, I'm fine with it. More than fine, actually. Bring everything you have on me, I don't care. But," he breathed, "if you're using Sam to teach me a lesson─" he paused, suddenly tired of having felt so many emotions in a couple of hours. Lucifer unclenched his fists as he let himself fall against the wall, allowing it to take the weight of his once bright being.

Since the War started, he had never let anyone look at him as anything but fierce and in control; the resolution that he was right defined all his being because he didn't have any other option. If he hadn't rebelled, if he hadn't acted like that, then no one would have taken his words in account. The angels would still brush him away as nothing but a fool for claiming that their Father was wrong. That was why talking with his Father was something big for him.

"He hasn't done anything that deserves your attention," he continued. "He's just a normal human, one of your so beloved creations. Just a wounded, inconsequential soul that has no affairs in our battle," he breathed, "and I love him, Father."

The other end of the link remained silent.

"I know you can listen to me, you deadbeat prick," Lucifer sneered. "Don't think I hadn't noticed how it took me so long to realize that Sam had been captured, if you have something to do with─" Stopping himself from continuing, he huffed and stood upright once more; shaking his head, he wondered what he was expecting. It was understandable that Michael had tried to talk with their Father. If He hadn't answered his brother's prayers, why would He answer his? He wasn't special anymore, not to his Father at least.

"Lucifer," a voice called him from behind, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Wondering how much had his sister heard, Lucifer looked over his shoulder to greet Raphael. It unnerved him to see her standing above the broken remnants of his Cage, reminding him of the time Michael had come, situating himself on the same spot, to settle their agreement.

"Why are you here?" Lucifer grinned sharply. "You have never come when I was inside that jail, now that I'm free you do?"

"The demons we have found on earth don't know anything," she said ignoring his words. The boredom that lit her features was worse than Michael's patience.

"Well, in Hell she isn't, and I don't think that she is in Heaven, right?" Lucifer said condescendingly."There is only one place left, Raphael."

He tried to encourage her to fight, wanting nothing more but an excuse to battle and settle in something he knew. He wanted to be in control of himself, of somebody, for a moment. To unleash his grace on a fixed point. He wanted to relax, hating to not be in control. He still shuddered remembering those times when everything he could feel was the all-consuming rage that sang through his grace.

When Raphael didn't bite, Lucifer added, "And where is Michael?"

A flicker of emotion finally appeared through her features. "In Heaven," she answered.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "First he makes you play messenger and now you do his favors for him? Not a very good big brother, right?"

"Michael is unwell." Raphael flew until she was a few steps away from him, irritation clear on her face. "He is no Father," she said tightly. "What did you think would happen when you gave him that number of souls for him to bear?" Raphael sneered. "I don't care if you go to earth and destroy everything, but I will appreciate if you refrained yourself from doing so. At least, for Michael's sake."

Lucifer frowned at seeing so many emotions fluttering in her sister's grace. He opened his mouth to say something but felt the familiar tug of someone requesting his presence. He looked at the side trying to concentrate better in the sensation, wanting to know who it was, annoyed at whoever was doing something so insolent, but he felt a great amount of respect in the call, a hint of fear and pain in there too.

"Lucifer?" Raphael called him; it seemed that his sister had picked the summoning too. But she wasn't as familiar as he was to them so he shushed her with a hand and shut his eyes tight, following the call with his amplified senses. It came from some part on the outsides of Detroit. It was Meg.

Lucifer opened and scoffed. "I found her." He glanced at his sister and smirked. "See? She was on earth," he said, but there was no joyfulness in his tone.

Raphael's wings puffed in annoyance before she flew towards the place, Lucifer huffed as he followed her close. He grabbed her by the arm in the middle of the flight, making them land outside the house where the request came from.

"What are you doing?" she asked, pulling her arm free.

"I know that you think everything is beneath you, but some species are smart." He shook his head. "And I am the one accused of being prideful?"

He turned his eyes towards the house, feeling the atmosphere had grown thicker as he didn't feel anyone inside it, even if the summon was still plain in the air. The earth started trembling as his impatience rose; but as quickly as it began, it stopped. Lucifer glanced at his right and saw Raphael with the usual fed up expression on her face. Her energy also lingered in the air, but she made sure that her grace emanated the right energy to contrast his, making everything calm around them.

"You should control yourself," she said, sounding slightly smug.

For some reason, Lucifer remembered one of those movies he loved to watch with Sam. 'Why is he behaving that way', he had asked, trying to not show his curiosity at the human behavior that the film displayed. Sam, of course, noticed, if his smile was something to go by. 'Oh, he's just going through his teenage facet,' he had answered.

He thought about mentioning this to Raphael, but it'll probably fly over her head. Besides, the tug was there again, confirming him that, yes, this was the place. Lucifer's impatience won and in the next second, he appeared inside the empty house.

A bowl full of the necessary items for a request was on the small table, accompanied with more herbs and liquids than he bothered to check. There was only a woman standing in the middle of the living room, using her arms to lean her weight on the chair next to her. Lucifer squinted at her; she looked familiar, he had seen glimpses of her before, never too long, but his memory was infallible so it was enough. One of the nurses, he decided.

She put the chair away and started to kneel respectfully in front of him. "My, Lord. I─" she tried to say, but Lucifer's hand in her stomach didn't let her continue. She struggled at first in his hold, almost involuntarily before she stopped, looking at him with determined eyes.

"How dare you speak to me without permission," Lucifer growled as he tightened his grip in some non-vital organ. "The things I'm going to do to you, child."

"Don't be a fool, Lucifer," Raphael spoke, her wing pushing against his own impatiently. "Why would she request your presence if she didn't have anything to say? Didn't you just tell me that demons were smart?" His teeth bared in a vicious smile. "Hear what she has to say, then you can kill her."

He opened his hand before pulling his arm out of the body, surprised when it fell limply. She convulsed, shocked at seeing her own viscera fell out of her body. Her arm reached to grab it immediately, but her hand paused mid air; her eyes wandered at his direction as she let a breath out, and smiled, then she was pulling the slippery mess on the floor inside her body calmly. That was when Lucifer noticed how decayed her body was, the bags under her eyes and the way her hands slightly trembled. Her true form wasn't any better either. He wasn't able to sense her, and that meant that like the other demons he had encountered with the same skill, she was tied to her vessel. Even if she didn't bleed from her injuries, she didn't heal either.

"Speak," he demanded.

She looked up at him until they locked eyes, a defiant stare on her face. "Azazel tricked me," she said harshly before starting to cough blood again, her intestines falling out of her grasp.

"Tricked you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"We thought─ I thought that Sam had somehow bounded you to him." She breathed heavily, a smirk formed on her lips. "That you couldn't leave his side until the deal ended."

Lucifer couldn't help the scoff that escaped him. "You think a mere human could have done that?"

"Well," Raphael spoke. "You did bind Death. And you were a mere archangel." Lucifer glared at her sister; she merely rolled her wings in a gesture that reassembled the shrug humans did.

Meg's smile broadened when she looked at Raphael, nodding at her direction she purred, "Exactly, my Lord. Humans can be vicious when they want power."

Lucifer didn't contradict her; he knew very well what humans were capable of, instead, he said, "Sam is not like that."

"Yeah, I realized that you truly cared for the boy." She glanced at his right, hatred filling her eyes. "Though perhaps a little too late."

"And Azazel is the one who has Sam?" He remembered Azazel. He was one of the angels that fell alongside him, but unlike Lucifer, he didn't posses the purity and power to not let Hell's energy overtake him. He was one of the first demons.

A sharp smile formed on her face. "Not only that, my lord, he was leading the other demons to rebel against you."

He leaned close, extended his arm until his fingers lingered on her face, slowly sliding towards her head. "You were the one who changed his pills?"

"Yes," she answered promptly, not reacting at his touch.

"Sam could have never entered into the hospital with a razor." His fingers pressed against her hair, tugging her head up, he asked, "That was you?"

She licked her lips; her eyes wavered even if her smile didn't. "Some people need more incentive than others."

"And Ruby?"

"Azazel's idea."

He hummed, his eyes glinting with power. "Why should I believe you?"

Instead of answer, smart on her to not beg, she said slowly. "I've everything to lose and nothing to gain from this. I just want to be useful, Father."

"And do you have something to offer then?"

She huffed. "Who, but one of his daughters, would know about all his hideouts."

Lucifer frowned, as he had felt Sam's love - precious, precious thing-, he could also sense Meg's loyalty towards him; something rarely found in this pure state in a demon. Her awe and blind love reminded him of the young ages when he sang praises to his Father, the most beautiful songs anyone would create were solely directed to please Him, hoping to see his smile next.

She still had made Sam suffer though, and he wanted to kill anything that had wronged his human. But he then remembered Sam being angry at God for His actions towards angels... wouldn't Sam be angry with him if he did the same? Wouldn't he be disappointed if he treated the ones who were loyal to him with the same judgment? Perhaps, this was the time when he showed that he was better than his Father.

"Fine," he finally said as he ran gently a thumb over her cheek, seeing her leaning into his touch with an adoring smile. "I'll give you one opportunity, my child."

He felt clearly Raphael eyes boring in his skull when Meg started listing the names of all places she knew about; too many for his liking. But he stopped her by pressing a thumb against her lips, ordering her to fall silent, when he heard Sam's voice filling his head.

"Lucifer?" Sam's nervous voice filled his entire being. And Lucifer breathed, his wings dropping slightly because Sam was alive. "First of all, calm yourself please and don't destroy anything," he continued and Lucifer wanted nothing more but to destroy something because Sam shouldn't be worrying about anything but himself. "I don't know where I am but Azazel─ Azazel is the one behind all this, Meg tried to make me call you, but─" He paused, and Lucifer used that second to walk away from Raphael and Meg so he could try to obtain Sam's whereabouts. "Just calm yourself. I─"

Lucifer opened his eyes when Sam stopped abruptly; he glanced towards Meg, his posture tense as electricity overflowed the air, not even Raphael was able to do a thing to calm him. "Which places does Azazel have in Detroit?", he demanded, having sensed him barely in some place close, but nothing concrete.

Meg slowly blinked before she told him the name of two places.

He turned, ready to go when Raphael moved in front of him. "Calm yourself, Lucifer," she said, repeating Sam's words. It managed to obtain his attention. "You know I can't go, so don't destroy anything."

He grabbed her by the collar of her blouse. "Don't forget that I am older than you, Raphael. Stronger too," he snarled.

She squinted at him. "Are you also wiser?"

"Not that I want to destroy this lovely family farewell," Meg said when the silence prolonged. She then stood, easy smile plastered on her face. "But I'll go." She winked at Raphael. "Don't worry; I'll take care of my Father."

Raphael scrutinized her from head to toes, her eyes lingering at the hand on top of her open stomach. "You can barely walk."

"Oh, you'd be surprised of the things I can do," she purred.

Stepping away from Raphael, Lucifer extended his wings, annoyed at how they kept rambling while Sam had been in Azazel's hold for already too long. The air that surrounded him was so thick that Meg's step faltered as she approached close to him, making her grab Raphael by the arm for support. Her sister didn't move, nor did say anything.

He breathed, stopping himself from smiting them just on principle. "You won't go." Lucifer ordered her, his tone final. She looked ready to protest but a glare from him was enough to stop her.

Her eyes were stubborn but her smile was subdued when she bowed her head. "Everything you order, Father."

Lucifer turned towards Raphael. "Heal her," he said. As an afterthought and he blamed Sam's influence for this, he added, "Please," before he flew towards the first place.

* * *

Raphael saw how the demon let his body fall on a chair when his brother left. There was no grace in her movements as she moved her injured leg aside with the hand that didn't press her entrails in place. She then turned her head slightly to look towards her, waving a hand and smiling pleasantly as if the drops of sweat on her forehead and the light frown between her eyebrows didn't exist.

"The demon was in possession of Lucifer's human?" Raphael chose to ignore the demons antics to concentrate better on Michael's voice. "Are you feeling better?" she asked instead of answering at hearing the tired tone in his brother's voice.

There was a hint of amusement lingering in their link. "I think I was the first to ask, sister."

Raphael didn't let the light tone of the reprimand to affect her. "She has provided us with the knowledge needed to continue the investigation. Lucifer already went on his way."

She frowned when silence answered her from the other end after Raphael gave Michael both directions.

"I guess that someone hung up on you?" The demon spoke, Raphael noticed that she was looking cautiously at the items on the table.

Raphael didn't bother answering that. "The request you sent to Lucifer was powerful enough to make every other powerful being notice it," she said instead.

"Ow. Are you worried about me?" She snorted as she grabbed some herbs and a cup.

"I was merely stating a fact."

"And that's why angels are so boring. Why are you standing here, anyway?" Meg asked, not bothering to hide how she kept mixing the ingredients.

"It's none of your business." Michael asked her before to assist Lucifer, but Raphael knew that her brother would interfere if Lucifer did something that would put Earth in danger. Better if she was already there to go first.

Meg rolled her eyes and huffed. "You angels never change. Always following blindly to a deadbeat god," she said as she took a gulp from her cup.

Raphael hovered close, just as she placed her beverage on the table. "What would you know about it, demon. Don't confuse your compliance with my loyalty."

"Perhaps," Meg conceded, "but I've figured one thing about this world – just one," she said, lifting a finger to put more emphasis to her words. "You find a cause, and you serve it. Give yourself over, and it orders your life." She shrugged. "Obviously, these things shift over times. We learn, we grow."

Against her own will, Raphael found herself asking, "And what cause are you serving now?"

She smiled; it was something less sharp than her previous smiles, but not less sincere. "For me currently is to kill Azazel and serve my Father, my creator." She looked down at the cup between her fingers, before looking up at Raphael, determination in her posture. "But I know I'll need help to do it."

Raphael tilted her head and looked at her considerably, at her eyes and foggy form. She did not ask for anything, but it was implied. The potion she had prepared wouldn't heal her completely, at much, the only thing it would is give her a boost of energy, so without saying anything, she walked closer. Enough for her to be within reach, and placing a hand on her elbow, she let her grace brush her enough to heal the body she wore, but not to damage her true form with Raphael's purity.

The demon arched an eyebrow while her lips curved in a satisfied smile. It was intelligent of her to not comment her actions.

* * *

"You know that because of our agreement, I can't interfere in Hell affairs. Assisting you in the quest for a human is different from stopping a coup d'etat."

Lucifer didn't bother looking over his shoulder. "I'm not asking for your help, Michael," he said, and if the atmosphere didn't suffer as previous instances, it was only because he has pushed his grace deep inside him. He didn't want to make his presence known, but it was hard to cloak himself in his current state; it only made the vessel he wore thinner and at the edge of extinguishing itself.

"You're acting like a fledgling who still doesn't know how to control his grace, brother," Michael commented before placing one wing on top of his, dirtying it brushing briefly some of the ruffled feathers that still bled. Lucifer's wings settled involuntarily tight against his back, but he didn't say anything. He knew that without the calm flowing from Michael's grace he would not make it, or at least, his vessel wouldn't. The thrumming of his grace was already too unbearable.

"This place has more warding than the previous one."

"Indeed," he acknowledged. "Only someone who wants to hide something would have this many wards."

"Can you sense your human?"

"His name is Sam, Michael." When he felt Michael watching him cautiously but didn't add anything, Lucifer tilted his head until he was able to see the thoughtful expression he wore. "What?"

"Does this mean that you no longer hate humans?"

Lucifer didn't answer for a moment. It was true that he saw humans as simply examples to prove his point of how terrible human nature could be, but he didn't hate them. Not really. No more than a human would hate an ant. "The wards don't let me feel what is happening inside those walls."

Michael didn't press further but he did turn to see the building in front of them. "The only way to enter would be for the front door and nothing assures you that there won't be some ward to weaken you."

"They don't have anything that could kill me, not even Azazel has the knowledge."

"You should stop being reckless," Michael's disapproval made him want to roll his eyes.

"Who are you to reprehend me about being reckless when you're doing the same?" He grinned, "A little bird told me about your problem with the souls I gave you. Shouldn't you be more powerful now that you've that many souls at your disposal?"

Lucifer squinted at the form next to him, wanting to see something in his vessel that indicated how bad Michael was handling, but his brother remained stoic as ever. His grace closed off from everyone that wanted to look. Lucifer was ready to forget subtleties and shove his grace into his brother to get the information he wanted to know, but he heard Sam's voice ringing weary again through his entire being.

"I don't have much time." Lucifer clenched his eyes shut to stop his grace from fleeing at the pain he felt in Sam's words. "There is a gun," he continued and Lucifer could almost hear the heavy breathing in his prayer, "a powerful gun that Azazel has. It can kill everything and─" Silence.

It ended abruptly. The last thing he could recall from the prayer before it silenced were emotions of surprise, horror and a hint of resignation. Michael tried to call his name but he was already appearing in front of the big door. Everything shook as he strolled over, pushing the entrance with a hand; he saw how it burst on one of the walls, inside. Lucifer stepped in and felt instantly how the room drained his power, making it difficult, almost impossible, to grasp the energy in his core, but he knew that if he wanted, he could destroy the wards, but he didn't know where they were, he would need to destroy the entire building –He couldn't risk it. Not with Sam inside.

The first horde of demons was already there to greet him, standing cautiously at a safe distance, their bodies prepared to attack. Lucifer smiled, "This is your last opportunity to return to me," he said, his voice surprisingly calm and quiet.

Some shifted on their feet, doubt clear in their eyes.

"We can kill him, brothers. Don't let Lucifer look down on you again." A voice came from above and Lucifer tilted his head enough to see a speaker in the room's corner. He glanced towards the demons and saw determination settle in their expressions. Lucifer's smile sharpened at the thought of blowing some steam. It didn't surprise him to see the demons flock to a leader that they felt would keep them alive. Most demons were stupid, after all.

And now that he wasn't tempering his rage –his grace was 'gone'– then no harm would come if decided to let his anger to roam free through him like a flood. The energy that remained within him gave him more strength than any demon would possess, so he grabbed one demon by the arm, turning the limb until he was able to push him towards the ground with his foot on the demon's back with enough force to break his ribs.

It all started like that, with his grace humming dormant within his own chest, unable to get out, but still thrumming down to his bloodstained fingertips as he fought with anyone that stomped in his way until he had most of the demons writhing on the floor. Lucifer's smile broadened as he lost himself in the battle. It was messier than most of the fights he had fought, but still familiar, calming.

But then he heard a scream. Not the normal scream of someone asking for help, but one resembling at the ones you hear on Hell, filled with agony and pain. It was Sam's voice.


	8. Out

After trying to escape ─and horribly failing at it─, the demons had dragged his battered body into a small dark room. Sam made sure to not speak the entire trip to the room, tried to maintain the fact that he had a magic bullet under his tongue a secret. It had been difficult to achieve when he entered that new room, almost coughing as the strong smell of sulfur stung in his nose. He was lucky that even if his nose wasn't broken, it had bled enough to make it harder to smell.

After stepping inside, they showed him into one specific spot ─a random demon always holding him in place─, one where it was easier to watch the six screens that hung on one of the walls, every one of them showing different angles of the same room.

It looks like the principal room, he thought, mostly because it was huge and spacious, there were only two doors, one small and normal, the other large, looking as if it could lend towards the outside, a small window far from it showed some of the outside. Hundreds of rainclouds gathered, flashes of lighting accompanied with thunder streaks at the distance across the sky, and even with that water, Sam couldn't help but wonder how it would be to walk outside, to let the rain touch his bloodied skin.

He was so immersed in thinking in some way to escape ─he blamed the concussion he was sure he had─ that he hadn't noticed when the doors opened with a pound. It wasn't until he heard the sound of the doors crashing against the walls that Sam glanced up towards one of the screens. The one in the left was the one that gave him a great view of Lucifer walking in the room that had been empty a few seconds ago. His movements were, as usual, graceful, dominant, a bit deadly, and just so damn familiar that Sam couldn't help but smile at the sight.

At first, he had been worried, because even if he couldn't see his face yet, it was obvious that something had happened the moment Lucifer stepped in. There was a slight flinch in his gestures, he then looked down at one hand, flexed his fingers before looking up to speak. His voice was soft, calm and determined, but, at the same time, there was a lethal edge in it, something inhuman. As if under that composed demeanor, there was something bigger and ready to explode. It made chills run through his entire body.

And if he, who he guessed was the one Lucifer came over to rescue, was the one afraid of him, he wondered how the demons that began to appear in the room could still manage to not flee away from the angel. Instead of that, they kept coming and coming and Lucifer's reaction to that was a smile full of nightmarish torment and righteous anger. His fingers dig into the flesh of the bodies that tried to attack him, pushing past the skin and muscles as if it was nothing. As if the blood that now dirt his suit and face was mere rain. It made a lump form in his throat.

Time seemed to slow down as Sam watched the onslaught of demons happen in frozen horror. Some of them had been slaughtered, limbs pulled out of their bodies, but what horrified him most wasn't the crimson color that now covered the walls and the floor, but the fact that the bodies still moved. Some had blood coming out of their mouth, half of their bodies crushed, breathing should be impossible to manage with the kind of injuries most had, but even so, they still moved.

He hadn't know that Azazel's army had been so large, until he saw the pile of bodies heaped unceremoniously on the ground around Lucifer, looking endless and just horrible. Not meant for anyone to watch. But, for some reason, he couldn't stop staring. He wanted to close his eyes, to erase the memory from his brain, but it was as if the scene before him didn't let him, wanting to hunt him forever in dreadful torment because it was somehow his fault that it was happening in the first place. That these innocent humans, whose bodies had been stolen from them, were suffering this.

Sam remembered Rufus explaining him how demons possessed living humans, trapped them inside their own minds, tortured them every time they were bored. And on top of that, they were suffering now this.

"Angels are magnificent creatures, don't you think? Perfect weapons made for battle. Archangels even more. They are Heaven's greatest and most terrifying weapons, you know." Azazel spoke softly beside him, a hand wrapped over his shoulder for emphasis. "That's your night in shinning armor, Sam. Don't you think it's wonderful how he destroys everything for you?"

Sam hadn't known what had been the point when Azazel brought him to this room at first, but now he could see clearly the demon's intentions at showing him this. He thought that if he hadn't had that dream, he would have acted differently, more horrified to the sight before him. He didn't exactly knew what was that dream, but he wasn't going to question it now, perhaps once he escaped ─if he escaped─, but until that moment, he would be stubborn like his brother, clenching his jaw and not giving the demon the satisfaction to see him scared, not anymore.

"Go to hell," Sam's voice croaked and that, apparently, wasn't the answer Azazel expected from him, if his slightly surprised face was something to go by, but after a second he seemed to decide that he found his resolve cute. "Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt," he replied with a light stroke at his hair.

Sam's eye twitched at the touch but, other than that, he didn't show anything else. Instead, he decided to ignore him so he could step closer to one of the screens, staggering his feet on shaking legs, as far as the other demon-bodyguard holding him would let him. It wasn't that much. And even if the grip on his arm tightened until it hurt, he still did it because, in his dream, there was a circle of fire surrounding Lucifer and he had looked as if he couldn't step out of it. He didn't know what it was but if he could find a way of how to stop it from happening then, he would be able to help Lucifer somehow. Would help him to look less threatening and inhuman, more as the one he remembered.

Well," Azazel spoke behind him when Lucifer beheaded one tall looking man. "I think it's time for me to entertain our Lord." He hummed as he walked towards him. "But no without giving you a gift, of course," he said and Sam let his eyes wander from the screen to the other's figure, curious at his words. But before he could look over his shoulder, he felt a hand press against his back and Sam couldn't help the surprised gasp that escaped him. Nor the subsequent scream as a light prickling sensation built in his chest while blood roared in his ears, deafening him to his surroundings as the worst kind of cold settled inside him.

He shut his mouth tightly, trying to keep the bullet inside as red marks appeared on his arms, throbbing in a red-hot searing pain as they spread slowly through his flesh. The pain reached a point that Sam didn't know how it was possibly to feel as if he was being burnt from the outside while he could only feel icy numbness inside him. It was painful, too agonizing for any normal human to bear. He couldn't even find the right words to describe how it felt.

He stumbled, not knowing that he had fallen to his knees until pain shot through his broken thumb when he tried to use his hand for support; the bright spots dancing in his vision making him known that he was close of losing consciousness. But the pain receded and he tried to concentrate in the light ache he felt on his finger to ground him, to stop the dark edges of his vision from spreading. He couldn't black out, not now.

Breathing heavily, he looked up and saw the demon that had previously held him, looking smug as he now stood a few steps away, no sight of Azazel anywhere.

"If I don't destroy this place is because I don't know where Sam is at the moment, so don't tempt you luck, Azazel."He heard someone speaking. Sam turned his head towards the sound and found Azazel in one of the screens talking with Lucifer. It seemed that the conversation had been going for a few minutes because Lucifer, who Sam had seen gleeful while killing the demons, was now grim as he stepped closer to the demon, the intent of killing him clear in every step he took."If you don't let Sam go at this moment, I'll make sure that the torture you'll receive at my hands will be enough to make you beg forgiveness to our Father," he said evenly, looking at Azazel as if was his prey and he a raptor preparing to strike at any moment.

"I would stop right there if I were you," Azazel said holding a hand up. "If you attempt to move closer, I'll make sure that my demons dealt accordingly with your human."

Lucifer raised his head; he could see faintly a smirk curling up at the edge of his lips. "Really?" he asked calmly. "You know that if you kill him, there is nothing stopping me from destroying you, right?"

Azazel hummed, circling Lucifer's figure. "Well, not killing then. I'll just let my demons have some fun with him. I like to share, after all." His voice drooped to a heavy tone, deep and filthy. "Sam has one of the softest lips I've ever tasted, you know."

His bruised mouth throbbed in a way that Sam couldn't ignore as he saw Lucifer's whole body tense. His unperturbed demeanor cracked to show the worry hidden behind his facade. It only lasted less than a second before his composure returned, but it was enough for him to notice. Sam didn't know why he felt embarrassed, everything considered, but he did. He felt his cheeks flush as his skin prickled annoyingly in the too familiar sensation of wanting to injure himself. It made him remember of those first times when he scratched roughly at the skin he found, pulled at his hair, did everything he could in an attempt to stop the itching he didn't know where it came. It was stressful and only made him more tired.

"Azazel," Lucifer said firmly as he moved, voice filled with the purest anger he had ever heard as his eyes gleamed in a way that, even if he saw it from the screen, he had to squint because it hurt to look at. It may be that why he saw too late Azazel's triumphant smile when Lucifer stood in a specific position. Something clicked in Sam's brain when Azazel turned his head towards the camera, his eyes clearly saying 'This is when the show begins'.

He tried to yell Lucifer's name to make him move away, but the demon grabbed him again by the arm. His voice died in his throat the instant he felt his stomach spinning in the now familiar sensation of the transportation demons used. It wasn't anything like Lucifer's. Then, there was a body behind him, his back pressed firmly against a chest, and his neck was held in a vice grip while a large hand positioned on his left arm, holding him up tightly in a familiar position.

Sam opened his eyes ─he didn't know when he had closed them in the first place─ and found himself in the same room seconds ago he was just watching through a screen. His head turned wildly to search for Lucifer's face and gulped when he saw him looking intently at him. Ignoring the fire that now encircled him and the corpses as if they were nothing. As if Sam was the only thing he cared about. The only thing that mattered.

Sam laughed brokenly, because he didn't deserve to get that look. He couldn't stop anything even when he had already seen it in his dream. It was just pathetic.

"Sam," Lucifer said softly, reproaching him as if he knew where his thoughts had wandered. Sam tried to give him a sheepish smile ─God, if it wasn't for the lack of self-preservation he possessed, he knew he wouldn't be this calm at being in this situation─ but it didn't work. Lucifer still had that worried face and Sam wondered what was he seeing on him? His battered face? The blood that covered most of his body? How ridiculously weak he appeared?

"Oh, this is beautiful," Azazel finally spoke, his voice was filled with mocked glee as he glanced at the demon that was grabbing him. "Please tell me, that we're recording this." Without waiting for an answer, he turned towards Lucifer to give him a pitiful, sarcastic smile. "How the mighty has fallen, right? Literally." He chuckled. "And for a human!"

Lucifer's expression changed when his eyes left his, moved towards the demon. Now, this close, Sam noticed better that the human he was wearing ─because at the moment, it didn't look like the skin belonged to him— didn't seem to be enough to contain whatever was underneath the skin, pulsing like it was about to burst out. The jagged flesh festooned on his face, and his too gray skin that made obvious the purple bags under his eyes, just made Lucifer look more inhuman. And the air that grew steadily colder as Lucifer kept glaring the demon didn't help either. It increased from a chill that Sam usually felt in South Dakota's winter to a battering cold that made every breath he took burnt his lungs, bruising his bones at the core as it chased all his body heat. The fine airs of his bare forearms rose and Sam was honestly uncertain that he'd remain alive if he stayed in that place much longer ─he was pretty sure he would have fallen, again, if it wasn't for the demon grabbing him firmly by his arm.

Lucifer smirked, the curl of his lips looking amused while his eyes are malicious and cold. There is an edge on them that makes him afraid, makes him want to run and don't look back because this creature ─this Hellish creature is too much for him, a simply and needy human, to look at. "The things I'm going to do to you," he whispered, almost as an afterthought.

Azazel laughed, amused, as if the air that sparked with ozone and energy wasn't scorching his entire being, as if the shadow of wings Sam swore he was able to see arched over Lucifer's back and the tension that crackled in the air around him accompanied with a promise of a dreaded destruction were nothing.

A chill wind squeezed his way through the quietness of the room. It felt like the end, as if the final battle ─he had read too many of Dean's comics─ would happen at any minute.

Sam decided to ignore them in order to look around him, to search for something that those screens hadn't showed him before, but the adrenaline that ran through him made him unable to think in something useful and it wasn't until Azazel's soft chuckles finally died, that he saw from the corner of his eye how he pulled the gun from his waistband with a smile, no speeches about why he wanted to kill Lucifer, no gloating, nothing. Just him steadying the gun to aim at Lucifer's forehead. Exactly like in his dream.

Lucifer on his part looked defiant. A raised eyebrow mocked the gun as if asking incredulously 'That's your plan?'. But he hadn't see what Sam saw, the light that flared in the demon's body as it died, gasping in pain with his life being drowned out of him.

Sam was shouting at his brain: 'Think, for God's sake! Think!', but nothing came. He swallowed and finally remembered the bullet that was pressed painfully under his tongue and, already knowing that his broken thumb would hurt, he moved his hand towards his mouth, ready to spat. As he expected, he groaned when he felt pain shooting through his arm, but Sam ignored it the best he could. Setting his jaw, bullet between his fingers, he moved quickly, surprising the demon, and everyone else, when he pressed the bullet inside his right eye in one movement.

The demon screamed in pain when light filled his vision, his arms moving to take the bullet out instead of holding him tight against him. He didn't possess the time to appreciate the stunned expression in Azazel's face as he practically jumped towards the circle of fire. And he admitted that he wasn't thinking clearly ─his head throbbed in feverish torment, and it wasn't exactly for the concussions─, but he already knew that there wasn't anything in his power to do to help, and the only idea that occurred him was to set Lucifer free. That way, at least, nothing would happen to him because of his fault.

The white-hot agony that he felt through his body when he touched the flames seemed to point him out how stupid his idea was as it sent him reeling backwards, burning his t-shirt in the progress.

He felt, more than heard, Lucifer's kneeling in front of him, pulling him away from the fire as he scoot him close, whispering reassurances while his arms curled protectively around his body. Sam shuddered when he felt the cold skin against his sweated one, but he didn't back away, instead, he clenched his teeth and breathed, pressing a hand into Lucifer's chest to steady him. Without thinking, he was already snuggling his face into the crook of Lucifer's neck, relieved at just having him at this distance.

"Go away," he slurred. His eyes fluttering close as weariness settled inside him numbing the pain. He wanted to sleep forever, and not wake up. He was going to repeat his words, worried that Lucifer hadn't listened ─and he always listened─ but he was already dragging him away, turning his body towards the floor and, in one fluid movement, he was underneath him, his back crashing loudly against the hard surface.

He shut one eye and groaned, because even if Lucifer cradled his head with a hand, stopping him from having another concussion, the vibrations he felt still hurt his sore brain. He was ready to say that to Lucifer ─demons be damned─ but then a shot echoed through the room startling him.

Sam blinked and let a nervous breath out, his eyes slowly going towards the body that still covered him, hiding him protectively from others. He tried to look at his expression but Lucifer was facing away from him, towards Azazel. He only got a good view of his neck and chest. Part of his brain, the one that liked to think in stupid details in the worst situations, noticed how his always-pristine suit was ruffled. The jacket was lost, only giving him a view of his vest and slightly crooked tie. Blood covered part of the sleeves, stopping where his limb couldn't push more into a demon's body he fought.

Holding a hand up, Sam carefully moved his arm until his fingers could touch the soft stubble of the angel above him. "Lucifer?" he asked, caressing the cheek covered with purple bruises, making sure that he didn't touch any of the sputtered skin. He didn't want to hurt him.

Lucifer's head turned slowly towards him and he was finally able to see the whole in the middle of his forehead. Sam's mouth opened in shock, he could feel the tears already welling in his eyes as dread started to engulf him. He didn't know how long he lay there, just looking at his pale blue eyes, thinking in how much he didn't want him gone, but with him.

His fingers carefully caressed Lucifer's cheek as if he were something fragile and hadn't saw him just a few minutes ago beheading a man with his bare hands. Lucifer leaned into his touch, his eyelids dropping faintly as mischief lit in his eyes, a ghost of a smirk curled on his lips─ his forehead still had creased lines of worry, but it was there. Smiling at him.

Relief flowed through him. "Lucifer," he repeated, a little more determined, pinching the cheek between his fingertips roughly, as the angel above him didn't look any more dead than him.

Lucifer blinked at that, tilted his head, and frowned. "Ay, mi cabeza," he said, rubbing at his temples with two fingers as the bullet fell from his forehead to the floor; the hole healing instantly. "Oh, you fucker," Sam breathed at the same time he heard the sharp intake of breath.

Turning his head away, he saw Azazel standing behind Lucifer, in the same spot he had been previously. His mouth was open, with small clouds of smoke falling from it, but then he closed it, uneasiness starting to fill his expression.

"Did you seriously thought I would let you escape?" Lucifer sneered, his expression turning murderous.

"Wait!" the demon said when the ground shook slightly. Lucifer grinned, lifting his hand up, but then his smile faltered when Sam gasped as pain began to spread within his chest.

He looked down at him, watching the marks on his arms lit again with regained fervor, pulsating red as the forgotten pain he felt when Azazel had pressed his palm on his back returned; and Sam had to bit his lower lip to keep from screaming out.

Lucifer touched his arm in an attempt to stop the intricate crimson marks around them from glowing, but it didn't do anything. The pain kept increasing.

"You can't use your powers correctly here, remember?" Azazel spoke.

"What are you doing?" Lucifer demanded, his eyes not turning from his.

"Plan B," the demon answered. Sam could hear how the confidence settled in his tone again. "I'll keep increasing the pain in him, well, that's it unless you let me go."

He saw from glazy eyes Lucifer's desperate expression turn into considering. He had to press a hand on his arm to catch his attention and stop him from speaking. "No," he said tightly. "Kill him."

It was vengeance, really. The bodies of innocent humans still lied around them and he didn't want it to happen again. Sam knew that if Azazel was free, it was just matter of time before the situation repeated.

Sam felt remorse at the body Azazel inhabited, but perhaps it was the best to kill him. He didn't know how the real owner would feel after being freed, knowing that his body had committed an innumerable amount of crimes, maybe he had seen everything from behind, unable to stop it. He didn't want to think about it ─he didn't have the time to think about it. The only thing he did know about was what depression felt like, and how easy it was to fall from it and he didn't want anyone to feel it.

"If you can even kill him, then─" Sam stopped and this time he screamed, his back arching in a painful angle as he felt like there was a smoldering flame consuming him. He didn't know if all the building was shaking or if it was just him, even so, the pain kept building, stronger with each passing second. His teeth hurt from having them pressed hard against each other and he couldn't hear what Lucifer was speaking, but he did feel when he placed him firmly against his chest, trying to stop the seizures from increasing. But then something happened, like a soft click inside his brain. Sam breathed shakily as the pain slowly started to retreat, his whole body shook at the sudden change.

"Oh, you're not escaping that easily." Lucifer spoke darkly. There was a light and the stench of sulfur again, but it was gone quickly as he felt how the relief emanated from Lucifer's body as he hugged him and ran a hand through his hair as he waited for the tremble of his body to stop. The pain was less, manageable, but still there.

"You stupid human," he said softly, pressing his mouth against his hair, ignoring the dry blood in it. "Why you make me worry?"

"I'm fine," he croaked.

Lucifer huffed. "Yeah, right." His hand moved towards Sam's side, gently touching the parts where his shirt had been glued to his skin. Sam hissed, even if the cold touch felt like a blessing. "I can't even heal wounds that were made with holy oil and you just jump towards the fire? You're already too injured and─"

"I'm here, Lucifer. Everything will be fine." His voice came slurred, tired from everything. Lucifer breathed in relief, his nose nuzzled against his cheek before he repeated, "You stupid human."

"Ow, this is so cute I think I'm going to throw up," a familiar voice spoke behind them. Sam turned his head, once again, until he could look over Lucifer's shoulder and see Magdolna standing over Azazel body. Dark jeans, a black letter jacket with a purple top underneath, and a strange looking blade in her hand. He guessed what had happened thanks to the crimson drops that fell from the tip of the weapon and the blood that poured from Azazel's chest.

"Meg," Lucifer said still holding him protectively with an arm. Sam wanted to stand but he knew that he didn't have the energy to do so. "How did you manage to obtain that blade?"

"Oh, this?" She asked, grinning as she moved the blade between her fingers. "Let's just say that I'm very charismatic." She winked, walking towards them until she was at their side. She then knelt, placed the gun in front of them, and slowly, adoringly, glanced up at Lucifer.

"You did well," he said, extending his free hand to stroke softly her hair, pushing the locks that covered her face away, grinning faintly when she leaned into his touch. "Thank you." Her hand slowly came up, moving until it covered his hand, looking up at him as she leaned more into his palm before finally backing away. "Now call Raphael, would you?"

She nodded and stood. "Yes, Father," she said happily, not hint of mock in her tone.

When she was out of the building, panic ensued as the demons that could still walk, ran away; smoke erupted from the mouth of all the bodies around them, but Lucifer snapped his fingers and made the fog stop. He closed his fist and the air filled with cries and howls. "Spread the word that no one can touch a single hair of Sam's body," he said to the smoke, air trembling with every word. Crumbling stones sent some rocks scattering to the winds. "He's under my protection."

Sam frowned, but when a hand cupped the back of his head and pushed him into Lucifer's chest, he leaned. "Close your eyes," Lucifer murmured, and Sam obeyed because he trusted him.

The only thing he could see was a bright, piercing orange light radiating through his closed eyelids, and when he felt the hand falling from his head to his scalp, he opened his eyes, blinking a few times as he tried to get used to the sudden light of the sky above him. He looked up in amazement and terror at their new surroundings. He knew they were in the same place ─He could see the marks where the building had stood─, but there was nothing around them, no bodies, no ruins, nothing.

Lucifer touched his cheek and a white soft radiance glowed from his fingers. Remembering that warm from other times Lucifer had healed him before, he didn't back away. However, instead of the warmth sinking into his being, it seemed to bounce off uselessly on his skin, only making the marks on his arms burn brighter.

Sam hissed in pain and Lucifer stopped the bright. He wanted nothing more but to ask what had happened, but a new voice spoke from behind. "You let them go?"

"I can't heal him." Lucifer ignored the question, his brows still knitted in confusion as he looked at his own hand. "How do you feel, Sam?" he asked.

"Like crap," he tried to say in an attempt to not worry Lucifer even more, but he started coughing blood the instant he opened his mouth, making his throat hurt like Hell.

"Can you heal him?" Lucifer asked when his lungs didn't try to come out of his mouth.

Sam grunted when he felt something foreign approaching him, he then grunted when a hand clasped on his elbow harshly, turning the limb in an awkward angle. He glanced to the side and saw a dark skinned woman grabbing him with a small frown on her face. Sam tried to pull away, suddenly scared at being manhandled, but Lucifer's hand had already moved to snatch the woman's wrist just at the same time she said, "Tell your human to let me watch his arm."

"His name is Sam and it would help if you showed more tact and had asked him first."

Her frown deepened. "Do I need to remind you that you are the one asking for my help?"

"Be respectful, Raphael." A male voice spoke above them. Sam would have looked up but his head hurt too much; his throat already throbbed painfully and his arms still burnt from where the marks were. It was a nice surprise that he was still conscious and his brain was still thinking almost clearly. He wasn't going to push more at his luck.

Raphael ─an odd name for a woman─ glowered at Lucifer but touched his arm gently this time, her hand glowing faintly as she did so.

And angel then.

Sam twitched, the light hurt, but she didn't seem to want to cause him pain with it, it merely looked as if she was inspecting him in the same way a doctor would look intently at a wound.

"This marks are going to prevent me from healing him entirely," she said. "I don't think I would be able to do much."

"You mean you can't erase them?" Lucifer's anger seemed to come over again; his otherness was even more evident from this close. "And you call yourself the Heal─"

"Lucifer," the previous voice called again, reproaching him. Lucifer huffed angrily but he composed himself.

Raphael this time looked respectful as she answered. "I can heal some of the wounds by touching his soul; stop him from entering in shock ─Something that is going to happen in a few minutes. It will be painful for him, but just for a while."

"And what about the marks?" the male voice asked.

"I will need more information before deciding something about them."

Lucifer turned worried eyes towards him. He interlaced their fingers. "Sam," he said, a hidden question under his tone.

Sam turned towards Raphael, who looked as if she didn't care about the outcome and only wanted to go away. He didn't know what to think of her, his mind was still foggy from the pain and didn't provide him from more information about the angel, but he still knew that Lucifer wouldn't put his life on her hands if she didn't trust her.

He grasped Lucifer's fingers tighter, trying to give a reassuring smile at him so he would calm and look more as the one he remembered, before he nodded. Breathing deeply when Lucifer pressed Sam's back against his chest and grabbed his arms to stop him from thrashing, Sam now nodded to Raphael.

Sam honestly didn't have the words to describe the pain he felt as light and darkness fought inside him. He just screamed at the feeling. He had felt before how Lucifer touched his soul, warmth wrapping within him; it was something soft and it made him feel cared and loved. Raphael though? He wanted to die. It was too personal and impersonal at the same time; the way it hurt didn't help either. It felt as if she was grabbing his heart between her fingertips, squeezing, prodding. It left Sam able to feel everything.

* * *

The souls were Father's last creation, beautiful in their imperfection. Fragile, yet strong enough to endure whatever pain someone could put them through; flexible, malleable, and, as he had tested before, very susceptible to pain ─It was something ironic that one of his Father's beloved creations needed pain in order to grow up. He had used his knowledge in true forms to create demons from human's souls; he knew different ways to torture them, bend them until their limits, because of the practice he had in doing so. But as he kept listening to Sam as he writhed between his arms, screamed with every touch of Raphael's, making similar sounds he had caused to others. It only made him picture his Father above them, smiling, as he did every time he imparted a lesson and knew that it was working.

Lucifer rubbed circles in Sam's arm when Raphael's hand started to withdraw from his chest. "I couldn't heal him," she said, looking at her hands as if she wanted to clean them on her blouse. "I merely accelerated the healing process. The biggest and deeper wounds would take a few days to heal while the smallest, a couple of hours."

"What about the marks?" Michael asked. "What are they?"

She looked at Sam's arms. "It seems that Azazel had used some kind of angelic spell, they do were based from enochian, but I noticed some of the Hell's language then too." Then, looking for a second as the young fledgling he remembered, she added, "It's quite interesting, actually. They aren't overwritten one over other, but merged in a complex spell that makes─"

"You're not going to use Sam as your laboratory rat, Raphael," Lucifer growled when he saw how Raphael eyes lit in curiosity. Every time it usually happened, she tended to grab the object that had interested her to study it.

Raphael actually sulked. "It would be helpful for your human if I found a way to erase them, wouldn't it?"

Lucifer tore his eyes away from her to look at Michael. "When did Raphael's teenage facet begun? I'm honestly sorry that you've to deal with her all on your own."

The corner of Michael's lips twitched. "At least she hasn't started a rebellion against the Host."

He blinked, clearly thrown aback by his brother's words. He was going to add some witty comment but Sam's soft scoff of amusement made him turn his attention towards him. "Sam?"

There was a smile, albeit a little tired, on his lips, as he looked surprised at the sound that came from his mouth. He didn't know if it was because he didn't want to interrupt their 'brotherly banter' or he was just surprised that pain hadn't accompanied the sound.

Sam cleared his throat and turned his head towards Raphael, who by now was standing a few feet away from them. "These marks are preventing me from healing?" he asked.

Raphael's eyes wandered towards Lucifer before settling on Sam. "They only prevent any other being from healing you, with them you will only be able to heal as any other human. If others try to heal your body, it will be painful for your soul."

Sam frowned and looked down at his hands. "You haven't heal me? Why I don't feel any pain, then?"

"It's your body that's overworking itself; most of your injuries are still there."

"So it's like I'm running on adrenaline?" he asked, touching a small cut on his cheek.

Raphael looked as if it was hard to keep talking with him. "Yes."

"That makes me want to ponder what's the difference between this to when Lucifer healed me. I always thought that he accelerated the process of─"

"Are you fine?" Lucifer asked when Sam stopped to clear his throat.

"Yeah, I just have to remember that even if my brain doesn't feel anything, my body still does." He looked up at Raphael, who now didn't look at Sam as if he were a brainless monkey. "So the marks don't do anything to me? It doesn't sound like a problem to me."

"I can't heal you, Sam," Lucifer replied instead of her sister, hand clasping Sam's elbow to catch his attention. "It is a problem."

Sam gasped at the sudden touch; he took a breath to steady himself before turning to smile at him. "Really. It's fine, he said before correcting himself. "I'm good." Lucifer let him go slowly because he really wasn't. Sam would be able to charm his way out with nurses, patients and doctors ─and even him, if he tried─, but he couldn't lie. Not to someone that could read his soul perfectly. And Lucifer saw that he was afraid, his soul recoiling away from him. "I mean," Sam started, as if he knew of what he had realized. "I always lived like that and so far everything went fine." He flinched and glanced at his wrists.

Lucifer stroked the side of his head, but Sam shook his hand away. "Lucifer." Sam gave him his best stern face, moving slightly towards him. "I'll be fine. Humans have lived without angels healing them, I think I can manage."

"But not this kind of pain, what would happen if─"

Sam huffed annoyingly and, before Lucifer was completely cognizant in what was happening, he was grabbing him by his scalp, pulling him in, and kissing him. Insistent in a way that he didn't know if it was to prove something to Lucifer or to himself.

Lucifer should have moved away the instant it happened, really. Sam was still injured and Raphael's ministrations to empower his white cells had given him a boost of energy that, most likely, would be over in a couple of minutes. He was evidently not thinking clearly if he was kissing him while he was still covered in demon's blood. But Lucifer relief still rang through his grace, pulsing in a way that didn't make him any better than him; he didn't know what Sam would do after this, how he will react at discovering how dangerous he was. It also didn't help that he was able to taste sulfur and the blood of Azazel's vessel in Sam's mouth either.

So he pulled him closer and kissed him with the same fervor, because, perhaps, this would be the last time he kissed Sam, that, if he told Lucifer to leave him. And of course that it was when he deepened the kiss that Sam retreated. Breathing against his mouth; small, hectic puffs of air ghosting over his lips that made him want to close the distance between them again, but he didn't. He knew that because of his time in Hell his grace had decayed, his once white and reminiscent wings were now darker, some feathers even black, the bright glow that once emanated from them was now dull and it tired him to make them shone as before. And all that reflected in his vessel too. He knew that he tasted of destruction, torment, and brimstone, so little of his angelic side remained.

He should have thought before that a kiss from him would trigger what Sam had just experienced.

Though to Lucifer's surprise, he saw through Sam's eyes how his soul shrugged slowly the fear away until it was almost indiscernible, its light brightening with determination as his jaw set resolute. Then he blinked and the fear was gone. Lucifer couldn't but smirk as Sam leaned once again, clutching at his collar as he sealed their lips again, pushing his tongue inside his mouth as he poured every emotion he was feeling in that one kiss. His desperation, fear, and impotence; Lucifer received it all, answering with his own reassurance and fear that this would be the end, enjoying it with all he could.

But then someone cleared his throat and Sam backed away from him as if he had been burnt, again. A nervous laugh accompanied with a sheepish smile formed on his face as he remembered that there were others behind them ─Another cue that Sam wasn't thinking clearly.

Lucifer on his part tore his eyes away from the small blush that formed on Sam's neck to glare at Meg. "Sorry, boss but your sis over there looked rather murderous and I didn't want to be the one to receive it." He glanced at her sister and noticed the way she scrunched her nose while Michael looked as if he didn't know what to think of the sudden development.

He snorted at the same time a yawn escaped Sam.

"You should take him to some place so he can sleep," Michael offered when Sam frowned in in attempt to keep himself awake. "Perhaps Sioux Falls where their surrogate family can take care of him."

Sam shook his head. "I've to return to the hospital. I don't how long I've stayed here but…"

Lucifer glanced at the demon that still stood far from them. Her body's posture was easy but Lucifer could see how her true form twitched at being near three archangels. "Meg will take care of that, Sam." He gave her a pointed nod. "You need to rest and that place doesn't have the commodities to do it."

Sam looked doubtful ─or perhaps he was just really tired─, but he then nodded and pressed his head against his shoulder. "Well, I do trust you," he slurred as unconsciousness slowly left his body.

Michael seemed rather stunned when he saw Meg returning the blade to Raphael, but he seemed to ignore that as his eyes found his. "You do know that it would be wiser to left him, right?" he said. "If you truly loved him, you would do it."

"You expect me to leave him just like that, now?" he whispered dangerously.

"You could erase his memory and he wouldn't remember you, or this incident. Your relationship with him would only end hurting him."

Lucifer knew that, but he still squinted at Michael, not ready to give him won an argument. "You don't really care if he gets hurt because of this. What are your real intentions, Michael?"

Michael thinned his lips and before he could say something else, Raphael interceded. "Aren't humans the ones that posses Free Will? Let the boy decide." She then turned towards their brother. "Now, can we go? We've no more issues to deal here and Heaven need us, Michael"

Michael looked considering, but he nodded at her sister after a few seconds had passed. "I'll trust your decision over this, Lucifer," he said before flying away, leaving Lucifer with a sleep Sam on his arms.

Perhaps Michael was right. Sam, as beautiful he was, was still a human. But he didn't want to give him up and see how he eventually found someone to look in the same way he looked at him. He knew that if he really wanted, he could make Sam never want to leave, dependent of him in every action he took. Was he selfish in wanting Sam's love to only belong to him? Maybe, but Raphael was right. It was his Free Will that made it beautiful; it wouldn't be the same without it.


	9. Baby Steps

His gaze slowly came into focus when he opened his eyes. He blinked, trying to get use to the dim light that came from some place near him. His body tensed up when he realized that he was in an unknown bed again but, unlike last time, it wasn't rigid and stiff. Actually, it was soft, softer than the bed he had in Bobby's house. It felt kind of alien if he considered that he had spent months ─years─ laying on harder stuff.

Sam's fingers twitched as he tried to found the energy to move, something hard to achieve considering that he was tired and his body felt as if it weighed a ton even if he still felt alert. Wary in a way that he hadn't felt since he started to live in motel rooms and needed to adjust his earring, in case of thieves that tried to get in. He moved his body slightly forward and then hissed more of surprise than anything when he rubbed accidentally his side.

Moving his arm away, he looked down and remembered how it had happened. It wasn't as painful as before, it merely stung insistently where bandages covered his middle, but he was lying on his good unharmed side so it was okay. Curious at how much pain he really felt, he extended a hand to touch it and─ "I wouldn't do that."

Sam's head turned sharply towards the voice. It amazed him how his head didn't spun at the movement. "Lucifer," Sam whispered when he saw the figure that sat in the spot next to him. The light that he now realized came from a lamp beside Lucifer settled on his skin and hair; the light making it look particularly blond. Almost like a halo.

"Hello, Sam." Lucifer smiled, moving his hand to stroke his hair. The action was easy and gentle, but his shoulders were still tense by worry. "Raphael said that you would feel weak when you woke up and it wouldn't be until a few hours had passed that you would feel better, but, how are you feeling now?"

Sam placed his head against the pillow, not being able to keep his neck turned for too long. He cleared his throat and sighed. "Fine, I guess." It came a little hoarse, but it didn't hurt. Lucifer hummed and Sam doubted that he believed him. "I mean," he added softly. "I feel tired and I just want to be here in bed for a while." He sighed and settled in the pillow a little better, Lucifer's hands stroking his head, mad him relax.

But even if he wanted to stay in bed, he also wanted to go to the bathroom too. Wanted to shower and clean himself; until he didn't feel dirty even if he truly wasn't ─Lucifer must have something to do with it, because his clothes were other too, but he still wanted to. To scratch at his skin until it was red and raw, until he couldn't feel the smell of sulfur and blood on him. Being awake made him remember how he had felt before, impotent, weak, wanting nothing more but crawl into his own familiar bed and not come out never.

"I'm apologize for everything you had to suffer, Sam," Lucifer said honestly after a moment of silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was absurd from my part to not think that others wouldn't use you in the first place."

Sam blinked, confused at the anger seeping in his tone. He moved his hand to his scalp until he reached his. "It wasn't your fault." He said, cupping his fingers on top of Lucifer's. "You can't take the responsibility for others actions."

"If I would have led Hell better, if I would have killed the ones that I knew were problematic, none of this would have happened. "

Sam breathed. He didn't know anything about Hell's politics and how they worked, he had just seen a glimpse of them and it scared him a little. He didn't give Lucifer any more arguments, knowing that he would only defend his position stubbornly ─Lucifer was like Dean that way─ and he felt too tired to start a discussion now. He only craned his neck towards Lucifer to change the subject, but halted in mid action when the muscles of his neck protested. Returning his head to the pillow, he spoke, "Could you move in front of me? My neck hurts."

"So it does hurt?" Lucifer reproached him, as if Sam had kept an important secret from him. Sam rolled his eyes.

He did move though, walking towards the other end of the bed to sit at edge of it. Sam unconsciously shifted towards the other end, expecting the other to lie next to him, but he stopped when Lucifer, instead of doing what he expected, just looked curiously at him. His hand still placed on top of one of the chairs that were within reach ─that, if Lucifer wanted to extend his arm towards him─, but far away from the bed.

Sam felt a blush forming. He had thought that perhaps, as always, Lucifer would enter with him in bed, but he hadn't thought before that if Lucifer would have wanted to do that then nothing would had stopped him from doing so. Sam was sure that he would have awakened next to him if that were the case, but instead, he was sitting next to him. Like those first days when their friendship was growing and he didn't just grab his books to read in his chair, but sat in his bed next to him, sometimes reading out loud the parts that he found interesting, others just commenting some paragraphs.

Sam looked down at the sheets. He stuttered when he opened his mouth to speak in an attempt to give an excuse, but his brain was already yelling at him about how stupid he was in thinking that after all the trouble he had caused him, Lucifer would want to be close to him, perhaps he was going to kill him. He didn't think that he would fight if he ever tried to do it ─actually, the idea of being killed by Lucifer didn't disturb him as much as it should─, but something he didn't want was Lucifer to hate him.

"You're afraid of me," Lucifer said, a small sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It wasn't a question.

Sam wanted to say 'no, it isn't true', but he didn't find it in himself to do it. Lucifer had never asked anything from him, only sincerity. And if he was honest, he was afraid. Not of his power or the being he was ─he had already known of about that since the day he made the deal─, instead, he was afraid of everything Lucifer was willing to do for him. If he closed his eyes, he was sure that he would be able to picture Lucifer slaughtering demons, the pile of bodies that had surrounded them, the hands holding him, the smell of the ozone filling the air, and even the small cracks on the floor.

To be the cause of it… it terrified him. It was a great weight to put on someone, especially on someone broken like him. He didn't deserve it. He should have pushed him away at the first opportunity, but the thing was that he didn't want to lose him.

Throughout his life, Sam had never let himself be the one others had to worry about, mostly because that was Dean's deal. He didn't a lot of people to share his problems, just one Sam could lay on. And that have been Dean. even if he didn't want to put such weight on his brother's shoulders, Dean still accepted it with a smile on his face and a lame joke.

That was why he had tried to make himself more independent, the one that took care of others and could tell their burdens to, smiling and saying 'It's okay' when they apologized for doing so. (His brother always said that he had a face that made others 'want to spill their secrets' and he just glared at him because that wasn't true, it never worked with him). But he had always done that, being the one that offered support while, at the same time, unconsciously pushing others away.

Because of the way he had lived ─he still thought that they were only going to stay in a place for a couple of weeks─ he didn't want to form attachments because that way it would hurt less. And it wasn't until Jess came into his life that he realized he wanted to stop thinking that way. He wanted to settle and stop moving from one place to another without any destination.

Dean had always been the rock he could return to whenever he wandered too far; he knew that, no matter what, his brother would be there for him. And Jess had been the one that had grabbed him by the hand, stopping him for a second, enough for her to make them lock eyes, and told him that he didn't have to run, that, if he let her, she would walk with him, together. And Sam stopped running, gripped her hand tight against hers and let her show him the views of the surroundings he hadn't noticed before.

That was why it hurt him when they both died. At the same time and the same way. He had felt so lost that he hadn't known what to do with himself anymore. He loved dearly Bobby and Ellen but they were only the place for him to find out how to walk again, even if they kept watching him as if they expected to see the little kid that ran in a Superman's costume with his brother. Sam tried to live the expectancy of his own past self but he couldn't. They had their own lives already and he was ruining it with his incompetence because he couldn't get better.

Thankfully, Rufus, someone from outside that hadn't known how he was before, had been there when he needed some encouragement. Making him realize of the mysteries life held, all the impossible stuff that existed; not judging him but trying to understand even if sometimes he couldn't.

Lucifer though? Lucifer was the one that had grabbed him when he had been drifting again; helped him to stood, slowly showing him that he still could without pressing him. And even if he didn't know when Lucifer had managed to slip inside the walls he had formed around him, he had done it. Lucifer had a huge complicated, personality. He was bigger than anyone Sam had encountered before. He didn't hold his hand like Jess did, but he walked alongside him. And when he noticed that Sam had slowed his pace, he turned his head and waited for him to come with a hand held high for him to take if he wanted to. Sam knew who he was and what he was capable to, but he still was his friend and he didn't want to lose him because, crazy as it was, he loved him.

Sam blinked a few times, slowly pulling himself out of his thoughts. Lucifer was still watching him, expectantly but patient. He smiled at him. "I think that if I really loved myself, or cared about my well-being, then I'd have asked you to go away," Sam swallowed, his insecure growing with each passing word, "but I want you in my life. I know that I'm broken and I don't know how to fix myself, but…"

"Well, perhaps it isn't about trying to fix something broken," Lucifer said with a soft smile when Sam couldn't find the words to continue. "Maybe it's about starting over and creating something better." Lucifer moved his hand away from the chair and sat next to him. "If you're not worried about your well-being then, for now, I'll do that for you. And if you don't love yourself now, then I'll love you for both of us until you can."

Sam felt tears prickling in his eyes when he turned away from Lucifer's gaze. "Why do you love me?" he murmured. "I mean, I'm just a normal human, there are so many people better than me outside, and I don't think I even have the qualiti─"

Lucifer laughed, stopping his musings with a light stroke of fingers against his cheek while his other hand moved the covers up. "I don't know," he said, his smile becoming tender in a way that Sam had seen just a few times. "Why do you love me?" He leaned close and, pressing a kiss at the corner of his mouth, he continued. "I have killed." Sam clutched his shirt, breathing heavily as Lucifer mouthed the line of his jaw, his teeth skimming over the tendon. "I have destroyed; I have committed a several number of crimes, things you wouldn't find in your worst nightmares."

Sam hummed; the feeling of Lucifer's grace caressing his soul, drawing him close made him shiver even more than the delicate stroke he felt under his shirt. "I'm a selfish being; I want you only to belong to me." He let his lips go, but didn't move too away, just enough for their eyes to meet. "Why do you love me, Sam?"

Sam's breathing was a little elaborated as he scoffed softly, trying to level his respiration enough to grin. "I never say that."

"Well, I can read between lines."

Sam huffed, his eyes half closing when Lucifer caught his lower lip between his teeth. Wanting to close the distance between each other, he leaned to kiss him, but Lucifer was faster as he left one kiss on his chin and backed off using his elbow to support his weight.

Sam turned his head and blinked at him, raising a questioning eyebrow to his smirk.

Lucifer shrugged a shoulder. "Oh, I'm just waiting."

Sam frowned at first, but then rolled his eyes when he understood. "Okay, okay. I may be, perhaps, a little bit in love with you," he conceded with a smile.

"Just a little bit?" Lucifer grinned, moving close again until their lips brushed. "And the answer to the other question would be…?"

Sam scoffed. "That's not fair."

"And why is that?"

"Well," ─he licked his lips─ "I asked first."

Lucifer's eyes glinted in amusement; his chuckle morphing slowly into a small laugh, the came sound unguarded and pure in a way he hadn't heard many time. Then Lucifer did kiss him, mouth wide and warm as he snuggled Sam close, small laughs stopping their kissing from time to time.

* * *

After waking up completely, for the second time, the first thing he noticed was that he didn't feel so tired anymore, a little sore in some places, perhaps, but that was understandable everything considered. The second thing was Lucifer's body still lying next to him, sleeping. His eyes closed, looking peaceful and nothing at all like a Hell's with that bed hair on place.

Sam frowned, trying to think in the reason of why Lucifer was sleeping, because he had said before that he didn't like to sleep. It was when Lucifer sighed that he remembered Lucifer asking him if he wanted something and Sam answering 'Just sleep with me'. Of course that he didn't know that he would follow his words literally, he was half sleep when he had asked him that.

Sam smiled because it was cute that he had done it, and he couldn't but wonder if Lucifer would be in to try other things.

He ran a hand through his hair to wake him, but Lucifer frowned slightly as he crunched in his spot. Sam took his hand away because he knew that expression all too well. Apparently, Lucifer wouldn't be a happy person when he woke up. It would be fun to poke him and see Lucifer grumpy, but he needed something to appease him. So coffee.

First Sam went to shower though; he now wasn't too tired to stand and he found it weird to not smell at something ─It seemed that it was a secondary effect to angel cleaning. As he walked through rooms, Sam realized that Lucifer had managed to sneak them into an expensive hotel room, those you only saw on TV and never thought to be. The bathroom was huge, bigger than the entire room the hospital had for the same purpose.

After a quick shower, Sam felt a little better with himself as he walked towards the counter of the suspiciously large kitchen. Sam opened the fridge, just out of curiosity, and was surprised when he found it well stocked. Has Lucifer made sure of this yesterday? He thought, but then shook his head as he grabbed a couple of eggs, placing them next to the oven, and turned, trying to look for the coffee pot so it will be ready when he finished with the eggs.

But he stopped moving when he felt someone watching him. He didn't turn and gulped the tightness he felt in his throat as he took hold of the knife that was within reach even if he didn't know if it could be of use.

Sam's eyes widened when he turned and a he saw the man standing a few steps away from him.

"I mean no harm, Sam Winchester," he said solemnly, sounding as if he were used to be heard. His voice had an authority Sam had never heard before, not even from his dad, an aura of intimidation and confidence surrounded him like a second skin. Something in him that just emanated respect.

Sam tried to move away, wanting to put as much distance as he could, sadly it wasn't too far, the counter stopped him from that. "You're Michael," he said, remembering the description Lucifer had done about his vessel's brother.

He let the knife on the counter, because what harm could have done that to an angel, seriously?

The angel walked slowly towards him, his movements holding certain elegance ─the word aristocrat seemed to fit him─, similar to Lucifer's, but there was something stiffer in him than Sam had never seen in Lucifer.

Sam turned his head slightly to the side when the angel was too close for his comfort. "What are you doing here?" he asked, truly curious.

Michael eyes wandered briefly towards the room where Lucifer was still sleeping. "I wanted to see you," he said.

"Me?" His tone came a little incredulous, but who could blame him, really.

Michael tilted his head. "Why does it surprise you?" he asked. "Are you not aware of the disaster my brother has done while searching for you? It's normal that I am curious about you."

Sam felt his face a little warmer. "Lucifer told me you helped," he blurted. "So thanks and I'm sorry, I mean, I get that you're the one who has to deal with all this, right? Being the one in charge now and all. It must be difficult to—" Sam stopped rambling when Michael held his palm high and pressed it gently on his chest, his eyes boring into his as he made him feel trapped and small.

"Hush," he said when the weigh against his upper body felt heavy and crushing. Sam tried to move away, not because it felt intrusive -yet-, he just wanted to be free. Hands cupped his to stop his struggling and Sam felt something, akin to a poke, against his soul.

It was intrusive and Sam moved more forcibly, stomping a foot on top of Michael's as he tried to free his hands. It hurt like hell, but managed to make the angel blink. His eyes no longer glowed in the dim light, but now finally settled in him.

"I'm glad that my brother has found someone that cares about him this much, Sam," he said when Sam gave a last harsh tug and freed his hands, speaking as if he hadn't imprisoned him just a seconds ago.

Something clicked in Sam's head. "Wait. Were you looking into my soul to confirm if I loved Lucifer or something?"

"I had to make sure of your intentions," Michael spoke as if that were a perfect excuse. "My brother loves you and from what I saw, love can make people blind."

"And couldn't you simply ask?" Sam glanced down to rub at his wrists. "Jesus. What's wrong with angels."

Sam looked up, still annoyed and wanting to curse at the angel that was frowning at him ─Sam wasn't going to apologize if blaspheming was what made him frown─, but even when Lucifer was still bitter when he mentioned him, Sam noticed how a smile slipped into his face when he remembered something they did before; just as brothers and no warriors. Glimpses of his life before Hell were fond for him and Michael formed part of it.

"You still care about him?" Sam asked.

"Of course," he said as if it were something obvious. "I raised him."

It shouldn't be a good answer, but, in a way, it was. He remembered those times when Dean wanted to buy tickets to a concert, but he didn't. _"Why can you waste your money in yourself! Stop saving money for me! Why do you even do it, Dean?!"_

_"Because I raise you, damnit! I 'm going to be there for─_

Sam cleared his throat. "So am I app?" he asked.

"Yes, though I would have preferred that it wasn't someone so... fragile." He finally said, sounding pleased with himself. As if not using a harsher word was a great compliment.

Sam frowned because he didn't know how to take that. He supposed angels weren't that good at this complimenting thing. Lucifer wasn't at first either.

"Thanks?" he said, because one thing he remembered Dean saying, was that it always improved things to be in the good sides of the older brother/sister of the person you were dating and after yesterday he thought that he finally came into terms with the progress of his relationship with Lucifer.

"Is he well?" Michael eyes had wandered towards the bedroom again. Something in the angel reminded him of Dean. He didn't know what, though; perhaps it was a big brother thing.

"Lucifer's fine," he answered. "He's sleeping just because I told him to, but the injuries he had already healed." Michael didn't really smile, but it was as if all that surrounded him had done it. It was weird. "Though I think he's concerned about you," he added, turning away so the angel wouldn't saw him flinch, looking for the coffee pot again. "He mentioned something about you and souls."

Lucifer didn't really voice his concern towards Michael ─too stubborn and prideful as he was─ but Sam noticed his worry when he spoke about Michael.

After telling Lucifer that he didn't want to sleep ─afraid of nightmares, even if Lucifer assured him that he would put them away─, he started telling him about what had happened after he was kidnapped. And even if Sam couldn't saw in Michael what Lucifer said about him looking tired, he still wanted to know if the angel was fine because Sam suspected that Lucifer wouldn't ask him.

He looked over his shoulder when Michael didn't answer, and noticed how he looking at him considerably. "I'll be fine," he said after a while. Sam frowned, but didn't press for more. He wasn't anyone for Michael to share, after all.

"Lucifer is a powerful being," Michael started when Sam's thoughts had wandered in how to convince Lucifer to talk with his brother. "The only one to match my power," he continued. Michael expressions were more subtle than Lucifer's, a little stiff too as he didn't possess his particular charisma, so Sam couldn't read him. "But you now can hurt Lucifer, Sam Winchester, so be careful with your actions."

He then disappeared in a blink, a breeze of air brushed against his cheek as he heard the flutter of wings. He didn't know if Michael had intended his words to sound like treat, but they did.

Sam leaned against the counter and sighed ─he didn't know what his life had turned into─, he thenprepared coffee and served himself a cup, filling other when he heard a soft groan coming from the bedroom. He added milk and sugar because something told him that Lucifer would like it sweet.

He went towards the room and placed the cup against a little table next to the bed. Lucifer head was covered with the mattress, but a hand was out so Sam could take it.

He smiled as he did it, interlacing their fingers together when Lucifer forward. "Why did you leave?" he grumbled, pulling him gently forward. Sam scoffed but went voluntarily, lifting up the sheets to lay there next to him. Lucifer's skin remained cool even if he had moved towards the spot Sam had been.

"I don't know how you humans can sleep. It's annoying," he commented when Sam snuggled close, making sure to put his hands under his shirt to warm him.

He sighed. "Well, coffee always helps."

Lucifer tensed when he pressed his nose against his now dry hair. His arms feeling oddly possessive around him. "What did Michael want?" he asked. Sam Tried to calm him down with a hand rubbing his back.

Huh. Well, that was fast. "Would you believe me if I told you that he wanted to see if you were okay?"

"No."

Sam backed off and pulled the sheets away from their heads so he would be able to see Lucifer's expressions. "It's true," he nodded.

"Then why do I feel his grace around you?"

Sam looked down at himself, he obviously didn't notice anything. "Really?"

"Yes. I had erased Raphael's traces on you yesterday, but now─" he sighed. "Did he do anything to you?" he asked.

"Well, I think your brother put the 'if you hurt my brother then I'll kill you' move on me."

Lucifer stayed quiet but he seemed to get it as he closed his eyes and scoffed softly. "Michael had always been oddly protective."

Sam moved until he sat and grabbed his coffee, took a sip while he took the other cup with his free hand and placed it above Lucifer's head. "Sit."

"I don't want to." He opened one eye. "Do all humans feel like this when they wake up?"

"Yes, but coffee helps," Sam repeated, smiling when Lucifer sighed and started to sit, looking at Sam as if he killed puppies for fun.

* * *

"I've to admit that it was a surprise when I received your three day notice when you were already scheduled to leave the hospital in two more weeks." Dr. Simigh said. His blond hair was a little tangled and there bags under his eyes; he looked weary but still managed to found the strength to smile. The fact that Ruby was found dead outside the hospital was still fresh, and his doctor, being the one in charge, had been the one that had to deal with the media. "Do you mind telling me the reason?"

He licked his lips; it had passed a long time since the kidnapping and Sam had felt better after receiving the right medication again, his doctor had noticed the change and approved it. That was what made him feel more confident about his request, but…

Sam looked down at his hands. They weren't trembling as they did before when he told Bobby and Ellen about his decision, but Sam still felt them cold because even if he knew that he was sure of his choice, it was still hard for him to leave this place.

Looking up from his lap and letting himself be honest for the first time, not guarding his nervousness, Sam spoke, "I want to study again. I mean, I know that I'm not entirely cured and perhaps I'll continue messing things up, but─"

"Breathe, Sam." The doctor chuckled. "Now tell me, you still thinking in Law?"

Sam had thought about it. He wanted before to study law before because he wanted to help others, wanted to defend the people who needed it the most, but after knowing Rufus and Lucifer, well─ He wanted to learn more about their world.

Rufus confirmed him that most things that bumped in the night existed and being captured by one had made him think things through. He wanted to help people like Rufus; the ones that risked their life to save others without expecting anything in change.

"I'm not going to lie you, doctor," Sam said, returning the expectant gaze of the other. "I still find Law interesting and will try to learn it in the future, now though? I want to study folklore."

"Folklore?" his doctor hummed. "That's an interesting choice." He stood and started walking towards him with a file in his hands. "You're smart and young, Sam. I don't doubt that, in whatever you decide to do, you would succeed."

Sam blinked. "So I'll be able to go?"

"Well, you've established some stability in your time here and, even though you'll have to still take your meds and come every few weeks checkup, you can live your life again outside." A smile spread out on his face. "The paperwork is already done."

Dr. Simigh's smile kept being warm as he kept explaining Sam about his medications, instructions to follow and, how he knew how he liked to read, book's recommendation too.

The day after, Jo jumped towards his middle and almost knocked him off balance. Ellen smiled as she put her daughter away to give him a proper hug while Bobby gave him a pat on his shoulder and a smile.

"Are you going to take me to school now, Sam?" Jo asked, a hand gripped tight in his. "Mom says that she can't tomorrow so you can now?"

"Let him breathe, Jo. At least until we reach the car," Bobby said from the trunk where he was placing his bag in.

Jo took his tongue out.

"Watch it, kid," Ellen reproached her with a light stroke on her hair. Jo turned to see her mother and smiled. "Sorry, mom," she said letting his hand go.

Sam chuckled and looked at the smiles around him, at their curled lips. Just looked at them. Bobby's crinkles around his eyes as he moved his cap slightly to the side, Ellen's soft grin as she took another sip from the water bottle she brought, Jo's full laugh when Bobby carried her with an arm─ Those were the things people told your life is worth living it, right?

The ones that made you know how lucky you are. Those small, precious, ephemeral, moments that made you lightheaded at laughing so much, with your heart beating up so hard it was almost painful and you can't help but feel something warm dancing inside you with every word you spoke and heard. It was nice and Sam was happy, but he still felt a little detached. As if he were watching them from an outsider perspective.

It felt like his heart wanted to come out of his throat.

Sam looked over his shoulder to throw a last glance to the hospital. He remembered feeling the same the day before leaving the hospital for the first time. Even if the place bored him a little, there was still some comfort in having a routine planed for him─ in being in a place where no one judged him.

Sam swallowed when a breeze brushed over his cheek; a soft weight settled on his shoulders. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose, leaning slightly towards the body he felt next to him even if he couldn't see anything.

"Thanks," Sam whispered and opened his eyes to keep walking.

In his first week in the hospital, they told him about searching for a goal, something for you to grip tight whenever you felt like giving up. He thought before in Jo, Bobby, and Ellen, but now he didn't want to lean in others. He wanted to find something for himself.

He had given up long ago into trying to make himself happy and just thought that if he made other people happy then it would be all worth it. But people came into one's life without asking and, in that same way, some of them also left too. But the experiences he lived with them will always remain, and wanted or not, they will change him, so maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday perhaps he would find his own reason to live.

So maybe he wasn't cured and, even if he didn't know if he would ever be, he had to believe that one day he would be. But, for now, baby steps.

Today, he would try to see all the happy faces around him without turning away.

THE END

* * *

**AN. Last chapter. I've to admit that this chapter was a little difficult to write for some scenes that included too much fluff and, well, how I didn't want to be short (because this was a part of the last chapter9, I added a scene I had thought to cut it before (the one with Michael), but it ended longer. Huh.**

**Oh well, enjoy.**  
**By the way, this is the last chapter of the story. he next one would be a small epilogue and some notes.**  
**It'd be nice to read your comments/critics about how this story ended.**  
**(It still amazes me that this story was planned for a one shot (4k) but, somehow, it superated the 50k words)**


	10. Epilogue

"I can't believe it's still here," Sam exclaimed. Lucifer didn't need to peer over his shoulder as he turned to show the bottle at him. He grabbed it cautiously; his hands remaining clean unlike his as he kept inspecting the object ─Sam guessed that it had something to do with his angelical nature.

"Well," he started, looking up from the bottle. "This place isn't exactly common. It doesn't surprise me that no one had dug holes at random here."

Sam huffed, cleaning his sweaty forehead with the back of his palm. "Oh, shut up, smartass."

Lucifer snapped his fingers and Sam's hands and nails were clean again; there was no longer sweat sticking on his flannel. He glanced at the hole he had made a few minutes ago and saw it covered too, grass already growing on the place he had spend half an hour digging.

He rolled his eyes. "So I get that you could have easily got the bottle out from under the grit with just a snap of fingers, right?"

Lucifer wrapped an arm around his middle before leaning to kiss the spot behind his ear with a playful smile. "Well, what would be the fun in that then?" Sam snorted but tilted his head so he could kiss him properly on the lips.

"I could also fly us away," he said when Sam backed off.

"No way, you made me dug; you'll have to go on the car with me." Lucifer pouted, but slipped his arm away and walked towards the impala.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. He only wanted to tease Lucifer, really, because even if he would have offered to get the bottle using some of his mojo, Sam knew he wouldn't have accepted. He was the one that had made that hole with the promise of returning, so he was going to do it.

He took off with Lucifer sitting in the passenger seat, humming along the music that played softly in the background. They usually didn't talk while Sam drove, but it wasn't awkward, or how most silences felt to him. It actually was nice; Sam liked not having the need to start a conversation, but just enjoying the company and Lucifer was perfect for that. He wasn't looking at him, but Sam knew that if he closed his eyes he would feel the wing that rested over his shoulders clearly, comforting him in a way.

Sam swallowed when he turned right on the road and could see the crossroads where everything, supernatural related, had started. Even if he knew that some things wouldn't have been possible without that experience, a chill still managed to run down his back just by thinking in that place ─God, he had summoned a demon, for Christ sake! A demon he hadn't seen since she had killed Azazel, and had to thank because Sam's conscience didn't let him forget it even if he still remembered the helplessness of being unable to move; vulnerable at someone powerful than him as he wished to be dead by her hand.

He took a deep breath to forget Magdol─ Meg, and took a last glance to the path that led to the crossroads. He could also remember Lucifer in his pristine white suit, looking imposing, intimidating, and just plain gorgeous. Well, the last thing may have been influenced by his new perspective of him, though; he did remember wanting to run and escape when he first saw him ─the power of his stare being enough to pin him down in place.

"There's something wrong?" Lucifer asked, fingers touching gently the back of his neck when Sam took his eyes off the retriever mirror and leaned into the touch. "Sure?"

"Yeah, just… remembering," Sam answered vaguely, but Lucifer seemed to understand as he, thankfully, didn't prod at the issue.

Sam smiled at him. At first, he thought in going alone, but after he had commented Lucifer about what he planned to do, he had asked him if he could accompanied him. Sam had been resilient, but he accepted because the truth was that he didn't want to be alone. Not in that moment.

He hadn't thought that he would be thankful at bringing Lucifer with him, but he was. His presence reassured him; it made him feel no longer dubious as he went out the car and walked towards the path that guided him towards the graves.

"Hi," he said lamely when he finally reached the grave he was looking for. "Um. Sorry for not coming before."

He fidgeted on his feet for a while, not knowing what to do even if it was the fifth time he went to a place like that. He finally decided in sitting, from his spot he looked clearly the simple words written on the grave in front of him. No 'friend', 'hero', or 'hunter', just a name and a date in a plain font.

It seemed unfair, considering what Rufus really did for a living and all that had lost because of it. He had told him just little, most of it being the less gruesome, but he knew that there was more. A lot more. Lives he had helped to save and others he couldn't. Sometimes Sam remembered him just sitting next to the window looking grim, remorseful, as if there was a weight on his shoulders he couldn't disappear, one that made him unable to be completely happy.

Lucifer had told him that he wasn't on Hell, but didn't tell him if he had been there at some point. If the demon that possessed Ruby managed to pull him there before Lucifer had given all the souls that didn't need to be on there to Michael. He was afraid to ask, even if he still wondered if Rufus was at peace now wherever he were.

He turned his gaze up when he felt a hand on his back and blinked when Lucifer passed him a glass with a single ice cube in it. He sat next to him, ignoring the gravel that surely would dirt his suit, and placed another glass in front of the grave.

"May I open the bottle?" he asked, not looking at the Johnny Walker on his hand but at his eyes for permission.

Sam nodded. "Yes". He cleared his throat when his voice came a little rough. "Weren't you saying that you were accompanying me?" Lucifer finished pouring the red-golden beverage and blinked at him, confused. "Where is your glass?" Sam asked, pointing with a nod at his direction.

A small smile spread out on his face, looking tender for a second before sharpening. "Well, I've heard that humans do love to drink. I didn't know how much you would want."

Rolling his eyes, he gently swirled the glass. "You know I don't drink," he said when Lucifer snapped a glass out of thin air, serving himself before placing the bottle on the ground, not mentioning that he didn't drink either.

Sam tilted the rim of the glass to sniff it before he took a sip, wanting to taste correctly the smooth yet rough flavor of the drink. He made a face when the alcohol burnt as he hadn't drunk anything in almost two years, but the flavor that the liquor had when it went down his throat, as well as the essence that left in his mouth, was pleasant.

He glanced at Lucifer. His glass didn't have ice, but Sam guessed that Lucifer didn't need to water it as he did.

"I don't dislike it," Lucifer commented and Sam snorted because that was what he had said about coffee and since then he had seen him drinking a cup of it while he waited for him ─so that meant he had liked it.

"I think Rufus won't be happy that the devil likes his favorite drink."

Lucifer made an offended sound. "I thought we were past the Devil-names." Even as he said that the corner of his lips still curled up, so Sam chuckled.

They remained sitting for a while, looking at the stars that were forming as they kept drinking, sharing stories, and soft touches. It didn't pain him when he talked about Dean and Jess even if they were in a cemetery. Nor when he mentioned his dad and some of the good memories he still remembered having with him. It was peaceful in a way. Feeling lightheaded ─Sam had guessed that Lucifer was doing something as he didn't feel drunk─ while his head was on Lucifer's shoulder, a hand rubbing circles on his back.

* * *

**AN. Ok this was fun to do (I know, a little weird considering some themes), I like to write these characters and even if sometimes was hard to write, it was liberating in a way; so I don't regret continuing this from a one shot to this 70k+ monster.**

**I was a little afraid to offend some people at some points, but I tried to do my best. I didn't want it to be a love-fix-it all kind of fic because I don't believe in that, nor I wanted Lucifer loving Sam just because he was his vessel. I wanted Sam to grow, learn and Lucifer falling in love of that humanity and not because he was especial (Several times I had wanted to add 'tw: happy ending' in the tags), though I still had some troubles in making them fall in love with each other.**

**Though I had to rewrite two chapters because of my incompetence and that wasn't fun ─at all─ I still loved writing this, so thanks to everyone who had liked, commented (you don't know how happy a comment can make someone) and followed it.**

**I also have to mention that how I have tons of small scenes I had wrote but never posted in the fic, I thought in continuing writing this story. I already have the plot outlined and it's going to be different trope, not so heavy like this one. I'll deal with Michael's problem, Sam's and Lucifer relationship (I like realistic romantic stories and I'm angry that I haven't made them really fight ─sorry, not sorry─), and I have to consider end of the prompt too. So the summary would be something like: "When Sam had accepted to date Lucifer, he hadn't thought it'd be like this. Okay, he had expected the demons and perhaps some angels, but not that the demons would act as if they were ready to kiss the floor he walked, nor an angel that liked to be his barista from now and then to have little chats."**

**I want something lighter (though who am I kidding, I'm going to add angst; I can't help it), but that doesn't mean that Sam will be miraculous cured, or that Lucifer's anger issues will be gone; I just suck at summaries. And titles (naming in general), that's why I added this fic to a series, but it won't be until a month had passed when I'll start posting (my classes need to finish), but thanks again for everything!**

**EDITED: The fic I mentioned? Is being written. You can read it by going to my stories. It's called 'To take the reigns' and I've 43k done. Go on and read it if you liked this one :D**


End file.

Supernatural, Angst, Hurt-Comfort