Chapter Text
“Ugh…”
“Morning, sunshine.”
Dean blinks himself out of his stupor, looking around for the source of the other voice.
He jumps a little when he sees Lucifer standing just a few feet away. What?
Oh, right…
“Beam us in, Scotty.”
He knows it can’t have been that long ago before he said those words, but it feels like a lifetime has passed.
Or maybe not a lifetime, but a pretty damn long time to be sure.
Dean slowly picks himself up off the bed and rubs his eyes tiredly. He must’ve been asleep… but he feels exhausted. “What happened…?”
He shakes his head a bit before looking over at Lucifer questioningly.
It’s weird… he knows he shouldn’t trust Lucifer and he definitely shouldn’t feel safe around him… but as he looks at Lucifer now he senses no malice and something tells him he’s not dangerous.
Weird.
Dean keeps those thoughts to himself, to be evaluated later.
Lucifer’s face falls at Dean’s question. He gestures to the bed. “We succeeded. Your brother is still waking up, you’re just out first. Probably because you weren’t out as long.”
Dean nods, frowning as he grasps at memories of his dream and they slip through his fingers.
Eventually, Lucifer speaks up again like he can’t help himself. “Do you… remember anything?”
Dean gives him a long glance, noting how weirdly hopeful he looks. “… not really. It all feels kinda like a dream, I remember some of the basics of what happened but not any specifics. Is there something I should remember?”
Lucifer looks—for lack of a better word— heartbroken. Like Dean just took his soul and curb-stomped it. What the heck is going on?
Dean has the absurd instinct to comfort him. What ?
Maybe Sam can shed some light.
He turns back to his sleeping brother. Sam looks less peaceful than before—his eyes are moving under his eyelids and there’s a slight frown on his face.
The corners of his eyes are collecting tears…
What happened?
Clearly Sam can’t provide him with information right now, so he sighs and turns back to Lucifer, determined to get some answers.
Or he was, before his stomach decided to talk for him by growling loudly.
Lucifer smiles the tiniest bit at him. “Clearly, you must be hungry. I’ll go prepare food for you both.”
If Dean didn’t know any better, he’d say Lucifer looks like he’s retreating.
The archangel leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him as he heads downstairs, presumably to the kitchen.
If Sam has a working refrigerator, Dean is gonna strangle Lucifer.
He spares his brother a long glance before he decides Sam isn’t gonna jump awake anytime soon, and he really shouldn’t trust an archangel who doesn’t need to eat to make food for them.
It’s not that he thinks Lucifer would poison them… intentionally, anyways.
As he leaves the room, Dean is assaulted by books. The hall is lined with them. All kinds, from all different times and places… some Dean is sure are extremely rare and would be valuable if there was anyone left in the world to care.
He walks slowly down the hall, his gaze taking in the rows and rows of knowledge, and as he does, he is struck with a memory.
Amy Pond.
He stares blankly at a single book amongst the legions of them. The author; Jaime Pont, catches his eye.
Amy Pond, Amy Pond… why is that name so familiar?
He crouches down to pick up the thick volume and as soon as he does, the memory hits him.
Amy Pond . She’s a Kitsune…
So he and Lucifer were… solving puzzles? Huh. Why doesn’t he remember more?
He stands back up, leaving the book there as he shanked his head and continues down the hall.
As he does, he notices his necklace bouncing on his chest. Wait… why isn’t it tucked under his shirt?
This was five years ago, cut me a break.
And I fell over a million years ago, do I get a break?
Dean freezes in place for a moment as he remembers. Lucifer saw that memory with him. What other memories did they see?
How much has he forgotten?
He rubs his temple, taking hold of the amulet to tuck it back under his shirt. As he does, another memory flashes before his eyes.
Sam isn’t dead… but I carry this.
It reminded me when I was fighting you that I was doing it for him. And now it reminds me that no matter what else has happened, we’re brothers and I owe it to him to try to save him from himself.
In the dream, Lucifer looks both grateful and sad. You’re a good brother, Dean. I am glad to be your friend.
What?
Friends?
… Dean is clearly not remembering some crucial details. How long were they there?
As the rest of that memory comes to him, Dean feels sympathy rise in his chest for Lucifer. He finds it hard to believe right now , but in that memory he was totally confident that Lucifer was truly miserable about Gabriel’s death.
Dean knows he wouldn’t change his opinion of Lucifer without good reason to, so he decides to trust his memory-self and withhold his doubts until he remembers more.
This is… insane. It’s trippy. Dean feels like he’s slowly losing his mind.
Him and Lucifer? Friends?
As he thinks that with incredulity, another pair of memories flash before his eyes.
Lucifer looks expectant and surprisingly vulnerable in this memory. Dean feels the ridiculous urge to give him a hug, he clearly needs it.
So are we friends?
I dunno, Lucifer. We’re not enemies, at least. We’re getting there. A lot of emotion went into that answer…
He doesn’t have time to process the rest of this memory before he’s bombarded with another one.
All I can do is hope you remember the important parts.
I guess… but it isn’t fair .
Life isn’t fair, Dream-Lucifer shrugs. I just hope you understand… I don’t know what you will remember but I’d rather not share my whole mind with you in case you remember that but not that we are…
Friends, Lucifer. We’re definitely friends now.
That memory leaves Dean with a warm feeling in his chest.
Something definitely happened while they were finding their way to Sam’s consciousness.
Finally, he gets a reference of the timeframe from that last memory. He vaguely remembers something Lucifer said about it being 5 hours in real-time, and he claimed it was over 5 months since they went in.
He’s missing a lot .
The memories are clearly there, just lurking somewhere in his head and waiting for him to find them.
He struggles to try to reach them for a moment, frustrated when thinking about Lucifer doesn’t manage to unlock anymore.
As he rifled through the shelves of books, he gets a few more flashes of puzzles they solved together, but nothing else incredibly useful.
He sticks his head back in Sam’s room and remembers a similarly high-quality bed he and Lucifer briefly rested on to take a break from puzzle-solving.
At least there are beds every now and then.
The moment was so nice… Dean can’t remember the last time he was that content and relaxed in real life.
Well, what exactly makes this more real than everything he experienced while trying to wake up Sam? Clearly, it wasn’t any less real to Dean before now.
He should treat everything he remembers as if it was real, because it might as well be. Lucifer almost definitely remembers it all and is disheartened that Dean didn’t also remember.
Fuck, Lucifer.
Dean is wasting time, surely Lucifer can tell him more about what happened.
Dean takes off down the hallway to look for the kitchen. He doesn’t know this house, so it takes him a while.
As he thinks about what he’s going to ask Lucifer, another important memory flashes before his eyes.
In this one, he can feel Lucifer’s mind in its entirety. Lucifer opened up to him, gave him all his knowledge and secrets… Dean didn’t just trust Lucifer, Lucifer trusted him .
Didn’t believe me?
Oh I believed you, it’s just worse than I thought it was. How are you still vertical?
Experience.
Is it bad that I wanna punch God?
You wouldn’t be the only one.
Their conversation is so easy and fluid… at some point, he and Lucifer got along with each other better than siblings. Dean felt protective of Lucifer, as ridiculous as that is.
Maybe this is a hint. He needs to ask Lucifer to re-establish whatever mental bond they had before and maybe then Dean will remember more.
Flashes and moments are flooding back to him now, but he still feels like there’s so much more that he’s not remembering.
Something huge.
He finally finds the kitchen in this obnoxiously big house and when he enters the room, Lucifer is the first thing he sees.
The kitchen is sparse. Sam does have a working refrigerator but Dean doesn’t care about that anymore.
There is a brandless loaf of bread on the island, along with sliced meat and cheese that clearly isn’t store-bought. Whether Lucifer snapped it into existence or went to the trouble to make it for Sam before all this, Dean can’t be sure. He would bet on the latter with what he knows now, however.
One sandwich sits already-made on a plate, the other is incomplete on a plate next to it and Lucifer is seated on the ground, his back to the fridge with his knees to his chest and his head in his hands.
He looks visibly upset.
Somehow, Dean knows he is responsible.
Another memory hits him as he witnessed Lucifer like this, his shoulders shaking with emotion.
Why are you scared of small spaces?
… The cage that God banished me to is small. And dark. I didn’t even have space to unfurl my wings. I wasn’t scared while I was there but now that I’m free… the thought of going back terrifies me. Just like he is now, Dream-Lucifer buries his head in his knees and shame overtakes his posture. So I… get a little freaked out in small spaces. Even when I can leave at any time. It’s… irrational. Embarrassing.
I don’t know, it sounds pretty human to me.
... not long ago I would have considered that an insult.
Do you now?
The jury is still out.
Dean doesn’t know what to do right away. His gut is screaming that he should go to Lucifer, they’re friends and Lucifer needs him…
But the part of him that wonders if his memories are just dreams hesitates.
It’s not long before his gut wins out.
He walks over slowly and crouches down by the archangel. Lucifer recognises him as he approaches but makes no move to leave or try to pretend he isn’t crying on the kitchen floor.
Guess this friendship really meant a lot to him.
Clearly, it meant a lot to Dean too.
“Hey,” Dean says softly, tentatively putting a hand on Lucifer’s shoulder.
Lucifer looks up in thinly veiled shock when he hears Dean’s tone. He clearly wasn’t expecting pity or sympathy from him.
That stings a little bit.
Dean pats his shoulder and then sits down next to him, leaning against the fridge as well and sitting near enough to bump elbows with Lucifer. “Hate to break it to ya, but you kinda look like shit. Are you okay?”
After a second, Lucifer gives a watery sort-of laugh. He can’t quite commit to it.
“Have you remembered anything?”
Dean nods, keeping us eyes on the ground. “Some things. It’s coming back slowly, but it is coming back to me. Sorry for worrying you, bud.” He smiles a little bit as he senses Lucifer relax beside him. “C’mon, I promised I wouldn’t forget everything. Have you so little faith in me?”
Lucifer gives another laugh, this one significantly less miserable than the former. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. You never cease to amaze, Dean Winchester.”
The warmth in his voice when Lucifer says his name tells Dean more than all his memories combined. This is real.
On instinct, Dean reaches for Lucifer’s hand as he makes to stand up and Lucifer takes it without question. Dean pulls his unlikely friend to his feet, and in one swift motion pulls him into a hug.
It feels even better in real life.
Even with Lucifer’s face making his shoulders little damp.
Neither one wants to pull away anytime soon and for once, that’s perfectly fine with Dean. He rubs Lucifer’s back gently through his shirt, comforting his friend after what was surely a pretty bad scare.
It’s a long while before either of them talks. Lucifer breaks the comfortable silence. “What made you remember?”
Dean shrugs a tiny bit. “Different things help me remember different moments. The hallway outside Sam’s room reminded me of the first Library we were dropped into. My amulet helped me remember a couple things. I was hoping maybe if you mentally linked us again I might remember more. Right now I’m just getting flashes pretty much at random whenever I see or touch something.”
“There’s a lot for you to remember,” Lucifer states thoughtfully. “It… probably wouldn’t be best to link our minds until I’ve had a chance to calm down a bit, but I can think of another way to jog your memory if you’ll allow me to try.”
“Yeah,” Dean says immediately. He trusts Lucifer, he realises. The Archangel wouldn’t do anything to hurt him now. “Go ahead.”
As soon as the words leave his lips, Lucifer has pulled away from the hug just enough to meet his eyes before leaning and and pressing their lips together.
Their second kiss is soft and questioning. Lucifer is quiet and hopeful as he presses his lips to Dean’s and waits for him to reciprocate.
Dean freezes at first, and then he remembers.
Their first kiss was messy, desperate.
Their second kiss is the opposite.
There’s no rush, no urgent need to say this before their mission ends. This kiss is slow, and Dean takes his time coaxing Lucifer to let him in and give himself over.
When Dean begins to kiss him back, Dean can practically feel the joy and relief radiating off of the angel. He has a feeling that if they were mentally connected, he’d be overwhelmed by the sheer power of the archangel’s emotions.
And as Dean remembers, he realises there’s something he still has yet to say.
I love you, Dean Winchester.
Dean remembers a thousand soft smiles, a hundred happy moments, a million squeezes of their intertwined hands. He remembers Lucifer , in all his beauty and glory.
Dean pulls away, eyes bright as he meets Lucifer’s steady gaze.
“I love you too.”