Chapter Text
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Just four more miles, he kept repeating to himself. He could make it; he had to.
Though, it was rather difficult to think positively when he couldn't even watch the road because of the blood dripping from his head. Sam tried to clean it with the back of his hand for the third time as he looked briefly at the passenger seat to see if Bobby was still conscious. He was but just barely. Sam panicked for a moment, then shook his head in an attempt to clear it and sighed, more from exasperation than tiredness, as he recalled the events of the day that led to this very moment.
The police just found one body from the many that were missing with wounds that didn’t reassemble the ones that the animals that habited in that forest could cause. They had thought at first it was a black dog doing the killing. Bobby said that there was a possibility it was a wendigo too, and because of that they brought the weapons to kill one. Just in case, his surrogate father said. They were alive thanks to that assumption.
After three hours in the woods, they found traces that suggested it really was a wendigo, and that there may be survivors. But of course when they finally found the cave, the wendigo was already killing the last person alive. Sam could still hear the screams when he closed his eyes.
They took advantage of the monster feeding to attack, but it was too fast. Bobby dodged the first blows but one of the last slashed his side. The wendigo then threw him to the cave wall when he tried to aim the fire thrower at its chest. Although that gave Sam enough time to use his own to burn him, it wasn't before the monster destroyed their first aid kid though.
After that they had to run for the extra kit in their motel room. Luckily, Sam just had some bruises. His arm would probably need some stitches, and the concussion in his head pounded loudly, making it hard to think. It didn't felt too serious, but that might just be the adrenaline. In the end, he just needed to reach the motel and get some painkillers. Bobby was the one that worried him; he had some serious injuries.
"Press the wound, Bobby. And don't sleep."
"This ain't my first time, kid. I've been doing this since you were in diapers." It wasn't exactly true, but Sam needed Bobby to stay awake, and if exaggerating everything helped, so be it.
When they arrived, Sam parked Bobby's truck near their room. It hadn't been as fast as the Impala but at least they were here. Sam rushed out of the car, hissing. Maybe it was more serious than he had thought. He definitely had some big bruises; after all the wendigo had thrown him a few times, and the adrenaline that masked the pain was starting to wear out.
He went to the passenger side and supported the older hunter with his shoulder. It was early, which meant no one would notice the state of their clothes, and hopefully if someone saw them they would just assume they were drunk.
In the room Sam placed Bobby on the bed closer to the bathroom. He just grunted in response, and pointed to the duffel bag where they stored the emergency aid kit. Sam opened it and pulled two pain killers from the box, swallowing them with a mouthful of water quickly, before approaching his companion.
"Kid, I need something to drink and to use as antiseptic, there's scotch in my bag." Sam did as he was told. Then he gathered all the materials he needed to fix him up, and looked at the ugly wound on Bobby's side for the first time. Yes, this was going to take a while.
After stitching the wound, Sam decided that Bobby was not in a life-threatening state for the moment, and the older hunter could get some well-needed hours of sleep. Now he had to care for his own wounds, but he wanted to take a shower first to wash the blood of the victims and dirt from his clothes. Maybe even find something to eat. There wasn't much time for Bobby to rest, as it would be better to get back to the house as soon as possible. And it would be difficult to explain why the blankets were so bloody to housekeeping.
Only once he stripped down in the bathroom did Sam see how terrible his injuries truly were. A large bruise close to his ribs, and others running up and down his legs. A wound that luckily wasn't a concussion on the back of his head, various cuts all over his chest, a larger cut up the length of his arm, and the one in his hairline that kept bleeding.
He was washing his hair, avoiding the patches on his forehead, when he heard a knock at the door. It was too early for the room service, or the manager kicking them out, but he couldn't take any chances. He would have to make some excuse, and wake Bobby so they could leave.
Sam grabbed a towel and wrapped his lower body with it. He went to the door, ready with his classic bar fight excuse and an innocent smile. He was completely unprepared for the small child on the porch, who seemed to be reading some kind of note.
For some reason, something inside him seemed to pull him to the kid, sensing some sort of recognition. The youth glanced at him, probably noticing his presence for the first time, and took a little step back with a surprised expression. The emotion only lasted a second, and was gone in a blink. The child composed himself and looked at Sam's chest and then at his face, smiling.
Those icy blue eyes and blonde hair seemed familiar to Sam, and he had to admit, the child was beautiful. He didn't know why the thought sent chills running down his spine, but it was true. The kid was like the ones you see in commercials, though unlike those actors, he had a mystical light surrounding him. The space where the small child stood seemed to shine in his presence, which became more apparent when he smiled. Not even the best Hollywood effects could fake the emotion you got from seeing him.
That might be the reason why Sam found himself awestruck, unable to move or look away. The kid started bouncing on the balls of his feet, hiding the paper behind his back with an amused expression as he continued staring at Sam. The child giggled when he shook his head, and the hunter couldn't help smiling at the sound, despite knowing there were many monsters who used beauty to lure their victims.
"You're Sam?" he asked. Sam blinked for a few seconds, amusing the kid even more. Sam ran a hand thought his long hair and tried to remember the fake name they used.
Wait. Fake name. They didn't check in with their real names.
He mentally cursed himself for neglecting to bring a weapon with him. He had to gain some time so he could think of a plan. Sam decided to start a conversation to distract the kid for the moment. He put on a friendly smile as he answered the question.
"Yes. And you are?"
"Lucifer." He said it as someone says something important, with a confidence and finality that a kid shouldn't posses. The name itself for Sam was like a bucket of cold water running freely down his back. He tried to ignore it, remembering that the archangel who possessed him was now a kid, a powerless kid, one who didn't posses memories of what he once did. He wasn't the one that wanted to use him as a meat suit to bring the apocalypse; he wasn't the Devil. Or at least, not yet. Sam glanced at the kid again.
The child in front of him wasn't what he expected, quite the contrary actually. He was the complete opposite of what he expected the Devil to look like as a human: beautiful. But what had he really expected? Someone who looked like the monsters he was so used to fight? Tiny horns and hairy legs? He knew that that was just what humans thought Satan would look like. Sam subconsciously had also thought that Satan would look more like the god Pan without considering what Lucifer really was in essence.
An archangel. And not just any archangel, but the brightest and most beautiful one of them all.
Lucifer, sensing that Sam was getting lost in his thoughts again, took the paper out from behind his back and shoved it in Sam's direction.
"A message from Father." His voice was smooth, so unlike the high pitched tone of kids that Sam was used to. He found himself mesmerized by that voice, but grabbed the note and motioned for the kid to come inside. He watched the child warily however. Only once inside did he remember the person sleeping in the room and immediately stopped walking, turning around to kneel in front of Lucifer.
"You need to be silent for a while because Bobby is sleeping, but you can watch TV while I put some clothes on and then we talk, okay?" he whispered.
"Okay." The kid answered slowly, as if he was testing the words in his mouth. They walked to the couch and Sam helped him to climb onto it. He then glanced at the letter.
"You read the note, right?"
"Father didn't tell me not to." The kid narrowed his eyes at him, as if daring him to say the contrary. Sam only shook his head and took a breath before reading.
Dean didn't want me to send him while he was with Lisa.
Also, Lucifer will be more comfortable with you.
Thanks Sam.
After reading, Sam concentrated more on the letter itself than the words. Here was an actual letter written by God. As he touched the golden words he felt the power emanating from it. Sam caressed the texture of the paper as if he were in trance, and for some reason he sighed in bliss, realizing for the first time that he didn't touch the note Michael gave Dean.
Did his brother feel that too?
He put the paper down, something that shouldn't have been so difficult to do. He then showed the kid how to use the TV remote, before reaching for his bag to look for clean clothes.
The only sounds he heard were of Lucifer zapping through channels, glancing from time to time in Sam's direction, Bobby's quiet snore and the sound of his own thoughts while he put his clothes on. And now that he thought about the latest events… the one who accepted God's offer was Dean. So why would God send his son to him? Yes, Balthazar told him that they were new at being human, and would need some sort of anchor. He was Lucifer's true vessel, and Lucifer had already possessed him once. It was obvious that he would be sent to Sam, but something bothered him because even if his brother was with Lis-
Sam cursed aloud. The note had said 'Dean didn't want me to…’
Did his brother talk with Chuck and not told him? He really needed to call his brother.
Sam stood up fully dressed and frantically searched for his phone. The two hunters had entered in a hurry, and he had tossed it aside so Bobby's blood wouldn't get on it when he patched him up.
"What are you looking for?" Sam turned his head to the direction of the voice. Lucifer's head was resting on the arm of the couch, and the eyes he had pinned on Sam were filled with amusement.
Was it him, or did every time Lucifer look at him seem like he was watching something amusing?
"My cell phone." He said.
"What does it look like?" Sam frowned, and was about to answer when he noticed the device on the table in front of the TV. He took a step towards it and grabbed it, showing the phone to the little Devil.
"Like this."
"And what is the purpose of it?" He looked genuinely curious as he touched it and saw the screen came to life.
"Well, I can communicate with other people with it, uh, even if they're in other countries." Lucifer seemed fascinated with this information and frowned as he turned the phone around and tried to open it.
"Why can't I open it?" Sam snorted and placed an open hand in front of the kid. Lucifer glared, but returned the device with an annoyed sniff. Cute.
"You can't. I need it to call my brother." The kid held his head high and looked at him with big eyes.
"But then can I use it?" Damn. It was as if someone turned a knob to maximum in the child's head. His brother had said countless times that when they were kids it was impossible to say no to him when he did the puppy eyes, and now he understood what he meant. But he didn't think his were as powerful as these 'puppy eyes of Doom'. In the Bible it was mentioned that Lucifer was the favorite son. Did God also have problems saying no to him?
"Uh… I'll buy another one for you." Lucifer smiled and nodded with mischief clear in his eyes as he turned his attention to the TV again.
They were so screwed.
Sam shook his head and dialed his brother's number, waiting just one ring before it was answered. Why was his brother awake this early?
"Sammy?"
"Uh, hey Dean." Okay, he definitely forgot to think this through. Hey, Lucifer's here, did you talk with Chuck or something?
"What's wrong?" His brother asked and Sam could hear the worry in his tone.
"Did you talk with Chuck?"
"Yeah, he kind of kidnapped me." Dean sounded a little uncomfortable so something strange must have happened.
"When?"
" I was going to call you, bitch." He defended himself. "And technically, it happened today. Why? What's happened?" Sam sighed. He would just have to say it and get it over with quickly.
"Lucifer is here."
"What do you mean with Lucifer is there? I thought you were on a hunt!" Yes, luckily he didn't started with that.
"We were. Just finished a few hours ago. Bobby fell asleep after I patched him up, and when I finished showering I heard a knock and, well..." Sam tried to use his most reasonable voice, but it didn't seem to work.
"And he just popped up out of the blue?"
"Yeah, he also had a message like Michael that said, uh, wait." Sam glanced around looking for the note. "Hey, did you see..?" He turned and saw how Lucifer followed his actions with curiosity, hands playing with the paper. When he realized that he was being watched he held it in Sam's direction with a smile on his lips and Sam took it with one hand. "Oh, thanks."
"Okay I have the note. It says 'Dean didn't want me to send him while he was with Lisa. Also Lucifer will be more comfortable with you. Thanks Sam.' "
"Perfect. He dumps his kids on us, but at least says thanks." Sam smiled softly, even this far from each other, he could clearly see his brother rolling his eyes.
"I'm packing to head back to the house, I'll wake Bobby when I finish. We're going to pass through Connecticut, you want to meet us somewhere near there?"
"Neither of you can drive, Sam! You just finished a hunt and are tired and hurt. Better I go to get you." Sam was ready to argue, but he suddenly felt really tired. He turned to watch Bobby's sleeping form and sighed.
"Normally I would say no, but you're right, we have to take care of the kid now too… even if he is Lucifer." He whispered the last part glancing at the kid on the couch, who was now engrossed in opening the remote rather than watching Sam.
"How is the kid, by the way?" Beautiful, Sam wanted to say, but he knew that his brother wouldn't accept that answer. He had to see it to believe it. He tried to search for another word to describe the kid that didn't include glowing or relaxing.
"Surprisingly quiet. I mean, not like Michael on his first day, more like happy-curious quiet. He's watching TV right now." He chuckled at the bizarre situation he found himself in. Dean just snorted.
"Dude, you have the Devil on your couch."
"He's a kid, Dean." Sam tried his best to keep the annoyance away from his voice.
"Yeah, whatever. Just send me the address of the motel you're staying so I can pick you up."
"Yeah, thanks man. Sorry if I interrupted your, uh, 'moment' with Lisa."
"We stayed as friends." Well, the chance for a normal life had been thrown out the window for both of them a long time ago, and although he had hope, he also had to admit that it would have been difficult to be in a relationship while taking care of the sons of God.
"Sorry to hear it, man. I know you loved her."
"It was mutual, Sammy."... Okay, that wasn't what he expected. He thought Lisa had called to break up with him. He wasn't expecting his brother to be fine with it, or even sound so calm.
"Um... You want to talk about it?"
"Hell no, next time you're going to ask me to braid your hair and paint your nails. I pass." Sam scoffed. Typical answer.
"Jerk." He shook his head in amusement as he turned the phone off. He then looked at the bed next to him where Bobby still slept. He'd let him sleep a little longer before waking him, just until Dean came. Besides, it would be easier to speak about the same thing with two people at the same time than one by one.
He took a deep breath and approached the figure who sat in the couch with remote pieces on his lap. Then, sitting beside him he asked, "Want some help?"
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