Archive of Our Own

“Go on, Sam,” Lucifer said placidly. He was perched, as ever, on the table a few feet from Sam’s bed. There was a venomous snake curled around his forearm, and he smiled at it. “Once Dean gets you out of here, it’d be so easy. Just a quick shot to the temple! You certainly know how to handle a gun. No pain; instant death. And all this will be over. I mean, isn’t the grave starting to sound awfully warm and comfortable, comparatively?”

Sam was sitting on the hospital bed, long legs stretched out in front of him. His eyes were red, his face pale and drawn.

“Anything to shut you up,” he said wearily.

Lucifer started at the response, putting the snake down and looking at Sam intently. “Sam! Buddy! It’s good to hear your voice again. And you’re considering my idea! This calls for a celebration.” A bottle of champagne appeared in his hands, and he popped the cork. The loud noise made Sam twitch. He looked at Lucifer.

“I don’t get you, man,” he said, in the same near-monotone. “What’s with the deathwish?”

“Sam, Sam, it would just be so funny! All these years, how far you’ve come, what you went through – and then you just paint the wall with your brains. Or bleed out in a motel bathtub, or – I don’t know, whatever. Ladies’ choice.”

Sam’s eyebrows drew together, in what would have been a puzzled frown, if he’d had the energy to make one. “I’m not talking about my deathwish. I’m talking about yours.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Mine?”

“Well, yeah,” Sam said.

Lucifer kept staring at him, the forgotten champagne bottle bubbling over in his hands.

“I mean, if I kill myself, that’s the end of you, right? You’re not Lucifer – not really. Just a…a sort of simulacrum of him, collected from my memories from the Cage and from being his vessel. If I go, you go.”

Lucifer frowned darkly. He put the champagne down and got up, pacing a few steps without answering.

Sam’s eyes widened and he leaned forward a little. “Don’t tell me you never thought of that?”

“Of course I thought of that,” Lucifer snapped. “It doesn’t matter if I die. I’m not real. There isn’t anything here that can die.”

“I mean, you’re not real,” Sam agreed. “But you’re not exactly…all the way not real.”

“Ooh, Stanford must really miss your eloquence, Sammy.”

“It’s just that…” Sam struggled to articulate his point. “You have thoughts, right? And memories, and goals – well, one goal – and I can’t control you, and you act like you think you’re real, anyway.” He slumped back against the headboard again, exhausted from the effort of putting this together.

Lucifer looked at him for a long moment.

“I think,” he said, very quietly, “that I’m going to have to consider going about this a different way.” He bounded over to the bed. “Okay, lie down. It’s time for you to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, right,” said Sam, who had heard this one before. A couple times he’d been desperate enough to believe it, only to be woken up seconds later by the sound of a car alarm going off inside his brain, or to find spiders crawling over every inch of his skin.

“No, no, I mean it,” Lucifer said. He raised his right hand like he was taking a pledge. “If I lie, may Heaven strike me down. Again.”

Sam glared at him.

“Come on, Sammy,” Lucifer insisted. “All right, look, I admit it – maybe I didn’t think this one all the way through.” He shrugged. “Sue me! When I find a purpose, I sometimes get a little bit obsessed. It’s one of my few flaws.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Sam! Come on. I don’t want to die. I like me too much. So, I don’t want you to die, either.”

Finally, Sam began to move, lying down slowly, still watching Lucifer with suspicious eyes. When he was all the way down, Lucifer beamed.

“There we go! Nice and cozy. A good night’s sleep will do wonders. No organ failure for you!”

Sam shut his eyes. Within seconds, he was asleep.

***

He awoke with a gasp, sweat pouring down his face. He had dreamed about Lucifer, who had turned into a clown and –

The clown was still there. Sam clenched his hands into fists, feeling his ragged nails cut his palms open.

“Not real, not real, not real,” he chanted. The clown raised a knife, and then abruptly morphed into a smirking Lucifer. Sam flopped down again, heart pounding.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Lucifer shouted, jumping onto the bed and standing over Sam. “Pleasant dreams?”

Sam looked out the window at the night sky and bit back a groan. “I thought you were going to let me sleep,” he said.

“I did!” Lucifer said. “Four whole hours. That’s an entire sleep cycle, you know. That should keep you from dying for awhile.” He crouched down to peer into Sam’s weary face. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you sleep more, later. I just don’t want to miss out on this quality time we have locked in together! You know big brother will spring you soon, especially once he finds out you’re sleeping again.”

Sam rolled onto his side and covered his face with a pillow. Lucifer began tapping him on the shoulder.

“Sam? Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam! Sam! SAM!”

“WHAT?” Sam shouted, rolling over again.

Lucifer smiled at him with what almost, to Sam’s deranged mind, appeared to be affection. He patted Sam’s hair gently and then jumped down off the bed.

“You know what’s going to be interesting,” Lucifer said, “is figuring out how to keep life just good enough that you won’t kill yourself, but miserable enough to still be fun for me. There’s going to have to be a balance, you know? If you can’t save anyone ever again, well, you’ll put on those puppy dog eyes and wonder what it’s all for. But if I can just mess up a crucial hunt now and then – keep you doing good more often than failing, but making mistakes when you can’t afford to…And then, what about girls? I don’t think I’m going to let you have a girlfriend again – you know you shouldn’t anyway, because your girlfriends have a tendency to crash and burn, so to speak – but you’ll probably want to get laid every now and then, or what’s the point, right? That’s a pretty big thing for humans, huh, Sam?”

Sam had squeezed his eyes shut. Lucifer snapped his fingers over Sam’s face and Sam’s eyes flew open.

“Hey! I’m talking to you. I told you, this is our special time. Anyway, as I was saying, I figure that if I can keep you alive till you reach a ripe old age and you die in bed with my face the last thing you see, that’ll be a life well lived. Don’t you think?”

Sam put the pillow over his face again.

***

“Wake up,” someone was saying. “Damn it, Sam, wake up. Where’s this guy taking us?”

Sam blinked into some semblance of consciousness. He was being wheeled down a hallway, and then into a brightly lit room. Lucifer was keeping pace with Marcus, the nurse pushing the gurney.

“About time,” Lucifer muttered.

“Where…where are we?” Sam asked.

“Electroshock therapy,” Marcus replied. He kept talking, but Sam was having trouble following the words. He tried to say something about Dean, but Marcus put something in his mouth and told him to bite down.

“Ordinarily, they keep this thing set on low,” Marcus said, as he got Sam set up. Lucifer was pacing around, getting increasingly agitated.

“Maybe it’ll help,” Sam said to him, feeling delirious. “Not that you’d care, but in the interest of me not dying – and who knows what would happen to you if I had a total mental breakdown –”

“Listen to him, you idiot,” Lucifer said. “He’s threatening you.”

They looked back at Marcus just in time to see the nurse’s eyes flip black.

“Oh no you don’t!” Lucifer shouted. “You work for me! I’m your king!”

“He can’t hear you, dumbass,” Sam said wearily. “And even if he could, you’re not the real Lucifer, so –”

Marcus flipped on the machine, and Sam’s body spasmed in pain. Marcus laughed.

***

“Amazing. You just take those licks, don’t you, kid?” Marcus said, some time later.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Please. He was in the Cage with me – well, with not-me, but you know what I mean – for a year and a half. You think anything you can dole out can even begin to touch what I did to him, you little pissant?”

Castiel appeared suddenly, and Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Hello, brother,” he said. “Huh. Well, if you’re here, Sam’s probably out of immediate mortal danger. I guess I can have some more fun.”

“I never should have broken your wall, Sam,” Castiel said. “I’m here to make it right.” He touched Sam’s head.

“Ha, nice try,” Lucifer snorted. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Sam was opening his eyes. “Oh, good, you’re lucid. Time for a quick game of ‘Who Am I Now?’”

He superimposed himself over Castiel, so Sam only saw him. Sam sighed. “Forget what I said before,” he said. “You’re not real.”

“Sammy, why must you try and hurt me that way?” Lucifer smirked. “And as the data clearly demonstrate, I’m real enough.”

Sam turned his head away.

***

“Now, you see, that third little pig was smart,” Lucifer said. “Went out and got some bricks.”

Sam stared at the ceiling, and Lucifer shut his book.

“Oh, would you cheer up?” he said. “It’s no fun when you mope and ignore me. Hey, your big brother’s here! Isn’t that exciting?”

“Where?” Sam said, eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

“Right there.” Lucifer pointed to where Dean and Castiel were standing. Sam looked up cautiously, but all he saw was two more Lucifers. He gave a soft groan.

“Relax, you can see him soon,” Lucifer said. “I’m just having a little last-minute fun with you.” He looked around the room and sighed wistfully. “I’m going to miss this place. I feel like we’ve really connected here.”

He glanced back at Dean and Castiel and realized the latter was coming towards the bed.

“Still trying to help, little brother?” Lucifer laughed. “You should dress the part.” He put an old-fashioned doctor’s head mirror on the image of himself he’d imposed over Castiel. Sam stared at Castiel, looking terrified.

Castiel’s hand was pressed to Sam’s head and Lucifer felt something shift. The world was turning a glowing orange-red.

“Whoa, whoa, hold on there, cowboy,” Lucifer said. “What do you think you’re – “

The light flared even brighter; Sam’s body convulsed. When his vision cleared, he could see Castiel on the bed near him, and Dean hurrying to his side.

“Sam?” he was saying.

“Dean!” Sam said gratefully.

***

Sam stared out the window as he and Dean drove away from the hospital. Dean glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

“So, you’re all good, then?” he asked.

Sam huffed a little laugh. “Yeah, Dean, I’m fine, as far as I can tell. Just like the first fifty times you asked me.”

“Sorry, man, it’s just…Seeing Lucifer, that’s some serious shit. Especially for you; I mean, Lucifer made you his bitch once already.”

Sam winced, thinking, More than once. It was strange, and a welcome relief, not to have Lucifer making snide comments into his head anymore. He would’ve had a field day with that one.

“So, you’re not seeing him at all anymore? Not even a little?”

“Not even a little,” Sam confirmed.

“The quiet must be nice.”

“Believe me, Dean, you have no idea.”

***

Crowley snapped his fingers, and Kevin and the demons disappeared.

“You got what you wanted,” Crowley said. “Dick’s dead; saved the world. So I want one little prophet. Sorry, moose. Wish I could help. You certainly got a lot on your plate right now. It looks like you are well and truly on your own.”

He disappeared. Sam looked around the empty room, eyes wide, chest heaving. Alone. Yes. Meg was gone. Kevin was gone. Castiel was gone. Bobby was long gone. Dean was –

Sam clenched his hands into fists and fought the urge to throw up. Well and truly alone. It had never been like this. Even when he had set off for Stanford – on his own for the first time – he had always known Dean was there if he needed him, and even his father, but now – now –

“Hey, take it easy there, champ,” said a mocking voice from behind him. “You’ve always got me.”

Sam turned around; slowly, willing it not to be true. Lucifer stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, smirking.

“No!” Sam shouted aloud, then caught himself, not wanting to alert any stray Leviathan to his presence when he was in the middle of a near panic attack.

“No, this isn’t real,” he said, so only Lucifer could hear him. “You’re not real.”

“Oh, let’s please not do the real-not-real dance again.”

“You’re gone!” Sam said. “Castiel made you go away!”

“I never left,” Lucifer said. “You just weren’t seeing me.”

“No,” Sam said, shaking his head. “No, no, no. This isn’t happening.” Instinctively, he grabbed his left hand and pressed into the old scar.

“Sam, come on! Don’t be like that,” Lucifer whined. Sam pressed harder, and Lucifer flickered and disappeared. Sam gasped with surprise and relief. It had worked. Lucifer was gone – and Sam was alone again.

***

He sat in the driver’s seat of the Impala, hands shaking as he tried to hotwire the car. Dean had disappeared with the keys in his pocket. Or did Meg still have them? It didn’t matter. They were both gone. They were all gone.

The engine started, and Sam peeled out, tears stinging his eyes. The car roared down the road. Wind blew in through the smashed window, making his eyes stream more.

Go back to the cabin. There was an extra set of keys there. He could get the car fixed. Dean wouldn’t want him to drive her around with the window broken. And he could go through Bobby’s books, try and see if he could – if –

“Fuck!” he screamed, hitting the steering wheel with his palm.

“Would you slow down?” Lucifer snapped. He was in the passenger seat. “And put on your seatbelt.”

Sam ignored him, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.

“You’re driving like a maniac!” Lucifer shouted. “You’re all over the road! Are you trying to kill us? Pull over!”

Sam jerked the wheel to the right, hard, and slammed on the brakes as soon as he was off the road. The tires squealed as they came to a stop. He collapsed forward, folding his arms on the steering wheel and burying his head in them.

“No wonder Dean never lets you drive,” Lucifer said.

Sam didn’t answer. After a moment, Lucifer sighed and put his feet up on the dashboard.

“Go ahead, take a minute,” he said, with a long-suffering air. “Calm down. That’s it. You don’t want to drive when you’re upset. That’s how accidents happen.”

A choked sob came from Sam. Lucifer glanced at him and rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Sammy,” he said soothingly. “Stop being such a whiny little bitch.”

Sam sat up, wiping at his eyes. “Fuck you,” he muttered.

“That’s the spirit! Although, as I recall, it was mostly me who – “

Sam’s fingers hovered near his hand scar. Lucifer held up his hands.

“All right, all right! Geez, aren’t we feeling sensitive.”

Sam breathed deeply a few times.

“Why does that work again?” he asked.

Lucifer shrugged. “I guess Castiel fixed you up. Just not quite as much as you’d hoped.” He scowled. “I can’t believe he tried to wipe me out of existence. Good thing I’m not the type to hold a grudge.”

A trace of a smile appeared on Sam’s face. Lucifer looked at him closely.

“So. Are we off then, buddy?”

The smile disappeared. “I’m not your buddy,” Sam said, not looking at him. “I don’t have any friends.”

Lucifer huffed. “Oh, well, excuse me,” he said. “I guess I should just let you sit here and brood about how sad your pathetic little life is. And cry. Alone.” He disappeared. Sam glared, but there was nothing at which to aim the expression, so after a moment, he took a deep breath, put his seatbelt on, and drove off again.

***

The next day, Lucifer appeared around noon. Sam was still driving.

“What do you want?” he asked wearily. His eyes were bloodshot, and there were deep circles under them.

“You looked lonely,” Lucifer said, with a charming and only slightly psychotic grin. “I thought you might want a road trip companion. Shall we play car games?”

Sam was silent.

“I notice we’ve been driving all night,” Lucifer prodded him.

“Not we. Me.”

“You could let me take over for a little,” Lucifer suggested. Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “I promise: no office buildings. And especially no office buildings that are actually abandoned warehouses.”

“I don’t think so,” Sam said.

“Hmm, that was surprisingly non-combative,” Lucifer said. “I guess you are lonely.” Sam tightened his jaw but didn’t reply.

“So!” Lucifer said, after a moment. “Where are we going?”

“Bobby’s.”

“The cabin?”

“No, his house.”

“You mean the one that burned to the ground?”

“I just need the salvage yard. And some tools. The fire didn’t get that much of the garage, so I should be able to find what I’m looking for.”

Lucifer snorted. “You’re going to fix the car?”

“Yeah, I am,” Sam said. “Problem?”

“No, no problem,” Lucifer said. “Just don’t blame me if Dean has a heart attack when he sees whatever you end up doing to his baby. You know, I’ve always gotten the sense he loves this car more than he loves you. Don’t you think?”

Sam looked away.

“This conversation would be easier if you would participate a little more fully, Sam.”

“This conversation would be easier if you would stop being such a dick.”

Lucifer smirked a little. “Fine. So, what – fix up the car, then head back to the cabin and hit the books?”

Sam was silent, staring straight ahead at the road. Lucifer waved a hand in front of his face.

“Hello? Come on, Sam, that was perfectly civil. Don’t be an asshole.”

“I’m not going to hit the books.”

“Okay.” Lucifer sounded bored. “Try Bobby’s contacts? What?”

Sam’s eyes were bright, and when he spoke, his voice was thick. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. Where do I even start, you know? Dean could be anywhere. He could be dead.”

“He’s in Purgatory,” Lucifer said confidently. Sam blinked at him.

“What?”

“Purgatory. Where do you think Levithan go when they die? It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. But then, you can be impressively stupid sometimes.”

“Why would Dean be in Purgatory?”

Lucifer shrugged. “Pulled along in Dick’s wake.”

Sam was shaking his head, a little frantically. “Even if you’re right – and who knows, cause you’re a voice in my head – even if you’re right…what am I going do about it? I mean, it took Crowley and Castiel two whole years to figure out how to make a tiny hole into Purgatory, just big enough to get the souls out. And they had all the resources of Heaven and Hell at their disposal. And if you’re wrong and he’s not in Purgatory...how could I possibly find him? It’s a needle in a haystack. And I’ve got nothing, and no one.”

“Well, Sam, you know I’m always a fan of your existential despair,” Lucifer said. “But let’s not get too heavy here, okay? I mean, this isn’t the sort of thing where you get yourself turned into a vampire and then decapitated so you can join your big brother, right?”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he muttered.

“Sam, seriously, if you’re going to be depressed, I’d rather be the cause of it. Hey, what if I told you your life is all a hallucination again?”

Sam glared at him. “It’s not going to work. I know you’re something my brain made up because I couldn’t handle the memories of Hell.”

“I’m just saying, it’s possible. I mean, it’d get funnier and funnier the more times I made you think you were finally rid of me. And hey, here’s a happy thought for you – if you’re still stuck in the Cage, then Dean’s on Earth, safe and sound with his little family. Say, do you think he’d still be with them if you’d never come back?”

Sam jammed his thumb into the hand scar, and Lucifer disappeared. Sam floored the gas pedal, a surge of anger clearing his head and chasing his exhaustion away as the Impala shot forward.

***

“You’ve waxed that thing three times,” Lucifer said. “It’s shiny, already.”

Sam ignored him, continuing to rub the car with a soft cloth.

“And it’s been days since you showered. Sam, you stink.”

“Shut up,” Sam said.

“Go to McDonald’s, and get a motel room. Or use the facilities at the Y or something. I’m sick of your B.O. Seriously, this is how you take care of yourself? I can see why Dean never trusted you to do it.”

Sam threw the cloth down and sat on the ground, his back against one of the car’s rear wheels.

“I’m not hungry,” he said. His stomach rumbled loudly. Lucifer raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

Sam stared bleakly across Singer’s Salvage Yard. The burned-out ruin of the house was in plain sight, and he heaved a sigh as he looked at it. Lucifer squatted down next to him.

“Missing your surrogate daddy?” he asked. “Hey, do you think he liked Dean better? Cause I always kind of got that impression.”

“Fuck off,” Sam said softly. Lucifer glanced at Sam’s hands, but they were still, resting on his thighs.

“What the hell are you doing hanging around this place, you idiot?” Lucifer demanded. “It’s just making you more emo, which I really didn’t think was possible after the way you were on the drive here. The car’s fixed; let’s go somewhere. I was stuck in the Cage for millennia. I want to see something.”

“Where am I supposed to go?” Sam said, sounding more like he was talking to himself than to Lucifer.

Lucifer threw up his hands. “Wherever! Anywhere! I’m just sick and tired of this craphole.”

He stood up. Sam remained where he was, and Lucifer nudged Sam’s leg hard with his foot, holding back just enough so it wasn’t a kick.

“Come on.”

After a moment, Sam climbed slowly to his feet and got into the driver’s seat. He turned on the Impala’s engine and listened to the familiar rumble of it for a moment.

“McDonald’s,” Lucifer reminded him, as they started out of the salvage yard.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam grumbled.

“And a shower. I’m not taking a road trip with you smelling like this.”

“We’re not taking a road trip.”

“Maybe you’re not.” Lucifer rolled down his window and stuck his feet out, leaning back with his hands behind his head.

***

They were driving through Texas; aimlessly, as the whole trip had been aimless. Sam had been going for almost twenty-four hours, with minimal stops. Lucifer was looking out the window, chin resting on his hand.

“What’s Purgatory like?” Sam asked in a low voice. It was the first time he’d spoken in hours.

“It’s a shithole,” Lucifer replied, conversationally.

And suddenly Sam was crying noisily. Lucifer let his head flop back against the headrest.

“Jesus, what now?” he asked irritably.

“It’s just – Dean – Bobby – Cas,” Sam gasped out, between sobs. “I don’t know what to do!”

“Oh, relax, would you?” Lucifer groaned. “They’ll be fine. Well, not Bobby, he’s long gone. And as for my little brother, who knows. But I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to save your brother.”

“Where do I start – I can’t – I don’t – there’s no –“ Sam stuttered.

“Look, if you don’t want to do it, I’m sure he’ll manage it on his own,” Lucifer said, in long-suffering tones. “From what I can tell, you Winchesters couldn’t die if you tried. There’ll be some pater ex macchina or other and he’ll pop right out, good as new. I use the term relatively, of course. You two don’t have issues, you have a subscription.”

Sam’s only response was to cry harder.

“Sam, watch the road,” Lucifer snapped. “You’re six and a half feet of stupid, did anyone ever tell you – SAM!”

Sam saw the dog in the road a second too late; he swerved, but they could both feel the bump. Sam pulled over and jumped out of the car.

“It’s just a damn dog!” Lucifer shouted. Sam ignored him, running to the dog’s side. Lucifer sighed and joined him.

“Oh god, oh no,” Sam said frantically. There was a deep gash in the dog’s side, and it whimpered pathetically.

“Get a gun out of the trunk and put it out of its misery,” Lucifer said. Sam ran back to the car and opened the trunk, and Lucifer raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Really? Sam, I’m flattered you would listen to my sage advice.”

Sam came back carrying a towel, and glared daggers at Lucifer.

“I’m not going to shoot it, you evil son of a bitch,” he said.

“That’s blasphemy,” Lucifer retorted.

Sam wrapped the dog up carefully, gathering it into his arms and murmuring “sorry, sorry,” when it whined in pain. He brought it back to the car and put it on the passenger seat.

“Hey, hey, that’s my seat,” Lucifer said. Sam got into the car and roared off.

“Or, I could take the back,” Lucifer muttered. He disappeared from the road.

***

“This is an animal hospital!” Sam was shouting at the nurse. “You save animals!”

“Sir,” the nurse said.

“Save this animal!”

“You’re fun when you’re coming unhinged, Sammy,” Lucifer said, leaning against a doorframe.

“Roberta, can you escort this gentleman out, please?” It was the veterinarian, who had just appeared.

“Yes,” the nurse replied.

“I did this,” Sam said miserably.

“They think you’re cuckoo,” Lucifer said, grinning. “They’re probably not wrong.”

“Come on,” the nurse said, leading Sam away.

Hours later, Sam was still sitting in the waiting room.

“This is taking a long time,” Lucifer said blandly, from the chair next to him. “I bet it’s dead.”

“Shut up,” Sam muttered. The nurse looked up, and Sam realized he’d accidentally spoken out loud.

The veterinarian came in then.

“She’s cute,” Lucifer said. “I know you’re looking. Pervert.”

“He’s sustained some serious internal bleeding,” the vet said. “There’s at least two leg fractures that I can see right now. But with some TLC, he should pull through for you.”

Sam exhaled with relief. “Thanks, Doctor.”

“You’re going to take the dog?”

“Look, I – I would. He’s not mine.”

“He’s not anybody’s.”

“I spend a lot of time on the road,” Sam said.

“Don’t you think you’re responsible?”

“Why do you think I brought him here?”

“Roberta, could you hand this man his trophy on the way out, please?” the vet said to the nurse. “Well, maybe if you were such an upstanding guy, you wouldn’t have hit him in the first place.”

“Fine,” Sam said. “I’ll take him.”

“There’s my hero.”

“Pushy lady,” Lucifer observed as they left.

“She was right about me,” Sam replied.

“You just think of that because of your comically oversized self-worth issues. Whatever. So we have a dog now. Let’s move to Provincetown and open up a bed and breakfast.”

“Are you really homophobic, or do you just think you’re funny?”

“I’m being completely serious!” Lucifer protested. “I think our relationship took a real step forward today.” He batted his eyelashes at Sam, who rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” Lucifer continued, “I think it’ll be good for you to have a dog. Now, if you slip up and speak to me out loud again, people will just assume you’re talking to him.” He paused. “You know that means you’re going to have to name it after me, right?”

“I’m not naming a dog Lucifer.”

“Doesn’t have to be Lucifer! I’ve got lots of names. You humans are very creative. Satan? Morningstar? Father of Lies? How about just Devil? Devil would be a good name for a dog.”

Sam just shook his head, smiling a tiny bit.

***

“I think I should just go,” Sam said. Amelia had discovered him in her motel room, where he was fixing the garbage disposal, and had accused him of being a stalker and/or murderous drifter.

“Yeah, I think you should go,” Amelia replied.

Sam left the room.

“I think cranky lady vet likes you,” Lucifer commented.

“Shut up,” Sam replied.

“You know, you say that a lot, Sam. You should really think of a better comeback.”

“Shut up, or I’ll make you shut up,” Sam said, rubbing his thumb against the hand scar.

Lucifer sighed with a terribly put-upon air. “Sam, Sam. I thought we’d moved past the need for all that. You’re cranky too, huh? Why don’t you go back to the girl and make sweet, cranky love together? Do you both a world of good.”

“I’m going to ignore you now,” Sam said.

“Fine, but you know you’re going to be lonely again in ten minutes. When you are, turn on the TV, would you? It’s almost time for my program.”

“It really scares me that you watch Charmed reruns.”

Lucifer grinned. “What can I say? I have a soft spot for witches.”

***

“Hey, look,” Lucifer said, a few days later. They were returning from walking the dog. “The angry lady’s door is open.” He addressed the dog. “Go bother her! Be a cupid!”

To Sam’s surprise, the dog barked and ran towards the open door.

“No no no,” Sam said, breaking into a run. “Dog, dog, dog! How the shit did you do that?” he demanded of Lucifer.

The dog disappeared into the vet’s room.

“No, dog, don’t bother the angry lady,” Sam sighed. He knocked on her door.

“Um, hey, sorry,” he said.

“That was smooth,” Lucifer said. “You’re off to a great start!” He flashed Sam double thumbs-up and sat down on the couch next to Amelia.

“’Dog’?” Amelia said. “That’s what you’re calling him?”

“His name is Lucifer Junior,” Lucifer said.

“Uh…” Sam said.

“Seriously, Sammy, no wonder you’re always beating women off with a stick.”

Sam pressed the hand scar and tried to smile at Amelia, who was now alone on the couch with his dog.

***

A couple hours and quite a few drinks later, Sam and Amelia had moved to the bed. Amelia rolled Sam onto his back and straddled his hips, smirking. She threaded their fingers together and squeezed. Sam squeezed back, smiling up at her.

“It’s about time,” Lucifer said from the couch, watching with his chin resting on his hand, elbow propped on the arm of the couch. “I thought maybe you were considering taking vows of chastity. You know, minus the jerking off.”

“Go away,” Sam hissed. Amelia leaned down to kiss him.

“What’re you going to do?” Lucifer asked smugly. “She’s got your hands pinned down but good, buddy.”

“You’re not going to watch me have sex!”

“Is something wrong?” Amelia asked, pulling back a little.

“No, no,” Sam said hurriedly. He angled his face up towards hers, and she kissed him again.

“Don’t let me distract you,” Lucifer said. He started whistling “Jimmy Crack Corn.”

“Go away,” Sam said vehemently. Amelia released his hands and Sam sat up to kiss her, sliding his hands around her back and quickly pressing into the scar.

“Hey – ” Lucifer started, and then there was silence in Sam’s head. Sam looked quickly at the now-empty sofa, breaking the kiss.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Amelia said, starting to climb off him. Sam grabbed her waist and held her in place.

“No, it’s not,” he said. “I’m sorry. I – thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. It startled me, is all. I still want to.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “I mean, if you do, too.”

She hesitated for a moment, and then leaned down and kissed him hard, burying a hand in his hair. Sam returned the kiss eagerly.

***

Sam woke up in the middle of the night and got up to use the bathroom. As he washed his hands, he caught sight of Lucifer in the mirror behind him, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and looking distinctly pouty.

“That was hurtful, Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It was a personal moment, Lucifer.”

“Personal moment? Are you a selfish lover?” Lucifer shook his head sadly. “Women don’t like that.”

“You’re going to have to get your kicks some other way.” Sam drank down some water.

“Yeah? And what other conceivable way would I get my kicks?” Lucifer inquired.

Sam frowned thoughtfully and put down the glass. “Huh. Well, I guess you have a point. A gross point, but…” He thought for a moment. “I mean, I guess sometime I could – I don’t know – put on some porn, or – ”

Lucifer rolled his eyes and pushed away from the wall. “Christ, Sam, I don’t want to watch you people have sex. At best, it’s farcical. At worst, it’s absolutely disgusting.”

Sam’s frown deepened. “Then why would you want to watch me – ”

“I was hoping for the best, Sam. I could use some comic relief. Sharing your life is pretty fucking depressing, you know. And, you were so busy seducing your cranky new girlfriend that I missed Charmed.”

Sam stared at him for a moment. Finally his expression cleared. “Um. Well, I can’t make any promises, but...I’ll try to make sure we catch it tomorrow.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Lucifer said derisively, but his tone somehow lacked an edge. “Go back to sleep. I don’t want you stumbling around like a zombie tomorrow. You’d probably fall and break your neck, or walk into a wall and concuss me into oblivion.”

He disappeared. Sam finished his glass of water and re-joined Amelia in the bed.

***

Several months later

Sam pulled on a T-shirt and jeans as quietly as he could, fumbling a little in the dark. He called very softly to Riot, shushing him when the dog shook himself and his tags rattled. Sam glanced at the bed, but Amelia was still, breathing deeply.

Sam picked up his shoes and left her motel room, closing the door softly behind him. He pulled the shoes on and set off down the dark street, Riot walking a little in front of him.

Before they’d gone half a block, Lucifer was walking next to him.

“Insomnia?” he said.

“Yeah,” Sam replied.

“Well hey, at least nothing could be worse than what I put you through last year, am I right?”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed drily. “You’re the winner of me not sleeping. The trophy will be ready any day now. I’m just waiting to hear back from the shop. Custom engraving takes time.”

“You know, Sam, you’ve gotten more sarcastic recently. I think your girlfriend is a bad influence on you.” He paused. “You were serious about the trophy, though, right? Cause I’d like one.”

Sam shook his head with a little half-smile. They walked on for a few minutes in silence.

“I’m just so restless sometimes,” Sam said finally.

“Don’t tell me you miss hunting. Haven’t you been trying to get away from that for, like, your entire life?”

“No, I don’t miss hunting. Not exactly. I guess I miss…having a purpose. I love Amelia, but – I’m just a handyman here.”

“Maybe she’s the wrong gal.” Lucifer said this in the Texas drawl that had become so familiar to them over the last few months.

“No,” Sam said sharply. “I just told you, I love her.”

“Okay, touchy,” Lucifer said. “Then, I don’t know, go back to school. Be a lawyer.”

“I don’t think that’s what I want anymore,” Sam said quietly.

“Then what in the hell do you want?” Lucifer demanded.

Sam sighed deeply. “I want my brother back,” he admitted.

“Oh, don’t you dare start in on that. You have a girlfriend to talk to about your angst now.”

“But I can’t talk to her about it without lying to her,” Sam said. “Or withholding information, which is basically the same thing.” He frowned, biting his lip. “It’s not that I miss hunting, but I miss…hunting with Dean, if that makes any sense. I miss the gross road food, and the shitty motel rooms – ”

“You’re still living in a shitty motel room,” Lucifer pointed out.

“I miss the hours in the car. Even hearing the same stupid songs over and over.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Or…I don’t even know. I guess that’s not what I miss. A lot of that stuff sucked. I always complained about it. But I miss that sense of knowing I was doing some good in in the world. And I miss hanging out with Dean.”

“Yeah, this is great,” Lucifer said encouragingly. “Let it all out. Hey, don’t stop, okay, cause I want to see if I can cry and vomit at the same time.”

“Give me a break,” Sam muttered.

“Give me a break!”

“Don’t you miss that stuff?”

“What stuff?”

Sam gestured. “You know what I mean. Being part of a family. Having a purpose.”

Lucifer stared at him for a long moment, then turned away, walking a little faster so he was a step or two ahead. “Fuck you, moose.”

“Look, I just – ”

“I’ve been listening to your whining about being alone for half a year now. I was trapped in a cage in Hell for the entire span of human history. Do the god damned math.”

Sam was quiet for a moment. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have – ”

“It’s fine.”

“No, seriously, dude – ”

Lucifer swung around to look at him, walking backwards, his trademark smirk back in place. “No, seriously, dude. I just wanted to hear you say I was right. Go on - tell me more about your Dean feels, and how you want to hold his hand while he drives and let him weep into your hair when he tells you about the terrible things he suffered in Purgatory, but of course the worst part was being separated from his sweet baby brother – ”

Sam swiped at him half-heartedly, smiling. “Shut the fuck up.”

“You two share a Heaven, right? You’re actual soulmates. I wonder if your dad just fucked you up so much that happened on its own or if Heaven arranged it that way. Seems like the kind of thing they’d do.”

Sam whistled for Riot and turned around. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Praise Father, an end to my latest stint as therapist for Winchester the Younger,” Lucifer said.

Sam glanced at him sideways. “You know,” he said carefully. “If you ever wanted to talk – ”

“Don’t finish that thought, Sam.”

“I mean it,” Sam said determinedly. “You do listen to my stuff, and sometimes you’re actually kind of helpful, despite being a dick – which is really weird, but, y’know, still true, so if you ever want to – ”

Lucifer was making a horrible gagging noise.

“Oh, keep going,” he said, between gags. “I was just imagining opening up my poor woobie heart to you, and then I thought I could try the simultaneous crying and vomiting thing again.” He kept gagging. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “Forget I said anything.”

***

“I hate this little bumfuck town,” Lucifer said morosely. Sam was driving to the grocery store. Lucifer’s elbows were hanging out the passenger side window, his chin resting on his forearms. “All this time with you and all I’ve seen is bumfuck little towns. And a whole lot of highway.”

“I’m sorry, but this is where – ”

“I know, I know,” Lucifer groaned. “This is where Cranky Girlfriend lives. Heaven forbid we leave Kermit, Texas for a few days. She might get cranky with no one around to witness it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Sam said. “This is where I live now.”

“Yeah. Ipso facto, it’s where I’m forced to live, too.”

They were silent for the rest of the trip. On the way back from the store, Lucifer spoke again, the whining note gone from his voice.

“What’s your favorite place you ever visited?”

“Chaco Canyon,” Sam said immediately. He didn’t elaborate, and after a moment Lucifer circled his hand.

“Go on,” he said impatiently. “Why? What happened? What the hell is Chaco Canyon?”

“I went when I was sixteen,” Sam replied. “There were native tribes that used to live there, hundreds of years ago. And we heard reports of tourists going missing or turning up dead – ”

Lucifer started laughing. “You had to put indigenous peoples seeking revenge to rest? How could your smug, liberal little mind possibly accept that?”

“I didn’t accept it,” Sam replied. “I had a big argument with my dad. Told him we had to find another way. He shot me down, of course. I was pretty pissed.”

“I bet you sulked for the whole trip.”

Sam smiled. “The whole car ride, yeah. But when we got there…it was so beautiful. It was this perfect day – bright blue skies; hot, but not oppressive. I got to just be a tourist – my dad and Dean were investigating the case, but I refused to help, so I just walked around and took it all in. These massive, sheer rock faces, and the kivas where they held their rituals, and their living quarters – ”

“Sounds nice.” Sam looked at Lucifer quickly to see if he was being sarcastic, but he was just staring straight ahead with an expression Sam couldn’t read.

“It was,” he said uncertainly.

***

That evening, Sam and Amelia were sharing a meal in Sam’s hotel room.

“So, I think I’m going out of town for a week or two,” Sam said. He glanced at Amelia to gauge her reaction. She only raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“I need to take a trip to New Mexico,” Sam said. “But I’ll be back, of course. And I’ll call you from the road. Every day, if you want.” He gave her a little smile, and she smiled back.

“Okay,” she said. She didn’t ask why. They were good at not asking each other too many questions.

“What’s in New Mexico?” Lucifer asked from the corner, where he was sitting on the floor, arms resting on his knees.

“Chaco Canyon,” Sam said. “Talking about it today made me want to go back.”

“Bad enough to abandon this nice lady for two whole weeks?”

Sam took a bite of his food. “You should see it,” he said, not looking at Lucifer.

Lucifer blinked. “Huh,” he said. “Okay. And on the way, do I also get a handjob, or – ”

“Shut up. Don’t make me regret being nice to you,” Sam said.

Lucifer was quiet.

***

Sam was fixing a broken air conditioner in one of the motel rooms. He scanned his tool box, unable to find the tool he needed. Lucifer pointed to it silently, and Sam picked it up.

“Thanks,” he said.

“No problem,” Lucifer said, sounding bored.

“So, how come you don’t hate me anymore?” Sam asked a moment later.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, that came out of left field.”

Sam gave a little laugh. “I thought you’d say you do still hate me.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “That head of yours is really just there to support the weight of your hair, isn’t it?”

Sam blinked at him. “What?”

Lucifer sighed. “I never hated you, you moron.”

Sam snorted and went back to the air conditioner. “You – well, okay, not-you, but you’ve got a ton of the same memories, so whatever – you spent a year and a half in the Cage torturing me. And then you – actual you – spent another year torturing me from inside my head, so – ”

“I was angry with you, Sam. Lovers’ quarrels will happen, you know.”

“It was two and a half years!” He frowned. “Actually, if you factor in the Hell time thing, it was closer to two hundred.”

Lucifer spread his hands. “What do you want from me? I’m literally older than dirt. A couple centuries isn’t really that long to me.”

“Oh,” Sam said slowly. “I guess I see your point.” He kept fiddling with the air conditioner.

“I felt sorry for you, Sam. I told you that the first time I met you. And sometimes I think you’re pathetic, and sometimes you’re dumber than a sack of hammers, and generally I find humans pretty disgusting. But I never actually hated you. I was just pissed.”

“But you’re not anymore?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Feelings time is over. I’m all shared out.” Sam glanced up, half-expecting Lucifer to be gone, but he was still sitting against a wall, watching Sam work. Sam picked up another tool and turned his attention to the air conditioner again.

***

“This was amazing,” Sam said to Amelia, as they polished off the last of his birthday picnic.

“Well, the celebration isn’t over yet,” Amelia said. “You haven’t opened your present!”

She pulled a wrapped box from her bag.

“It’s heavy,” Sam said, as he pulled off the paper. When he saw what was inside, he started laughing.

“What?” Amelia asked. “You love that show! You hurry home to catch it when you can. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Sam looked at the complete Charmed DVD box set in his hands, still smiling. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“What’s your thing with it, anyway? Is it the way they’re always dressing in skimpy outfits? It’s okay, you can admit it.”

“No, it’s not that,” Sam said. “Although I have to say, they don’t look half bad.”

Amelia laughed and swatted him. “Seriously. What’s the deal?”

“Well, there’s this guy I know who has a bizarre obsession with it. So I guess I…watch it for him.”

“He can’t watch it on his own?”

Sam shrugged. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“This is a friend of yours?”

Sam stared at her for a long moment, frowning slightly. “Yeah. I guess – yeah. He’s a friend.”

“Sammy, you’ve touched me,” Lucifer cooed, from over Sam’s shoulder. “Right in my special place. I think we need to hug it out.” Sam rolled his eyes. Lucifer tapped the DVD box. “You know we’re going to marathon this, right?”

“You have weird friends, Sam,” Amelia said, smiling wryly.

“Believe me,” Sam replied. “You don’t know the half of it.”

***

Sam was silent on the drive to Rufus’ cabin. He didn’t shut Lucifer out, but he didn’t respond to him, either.

“Guess I’m going to have to accept the backseat from here on out,” Lucifer tried. Sam glanced at him, but didn’t give any further indication that he’d heard.

“Unless I sit between you guys,” Lucifer continued brightly. “How would that be? I could be the meat in a Winchester sandwich. Sounds cozy. Cuddling up to you manly hunters. The twelve layers of flannel would surely keep me warm in the winter, even if the heater goes on the fritz.”

Sam said nothing.

“Well,” Lucifer said finally, as they neared the cabin. “At least I’m not going to have to listen to you blah blah blah all the time anymore. You’ll finally have someone to talk to about hunting, obviously. And you won’t need to go on and on and on about how your poor heart is weeping and dying without Dean. Things are going to be a lot quieter. What a relief. I bet you two just fall right back into each other’s arms.”

Sam pulled up in front of the cabin, put the car in park, and shut off the engine.

“I don’t know what you’re looking for here, but I’m not really in the mood for whatever game you’re playing,” he said. He got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Lucifer rolled his eyes.

“Drama queen,” he muttered, following Sam into the cabin.

The second Sam stepped inside, Dean tackled him to the ground and poured holy water on him, followed by a Borax shower and a cut with a silver knife. Sam spluttered as Lucifer laughed.

“I guess the drama queen thing runs in the family,” Lucifer remarked.

Dean subjected himself to the same trials, then pulled Sam in for a hug. Lucifer began singing “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now.” Sam ignored him.

He continued to ignore him as he and Dean caught up on the last year. Lucifer had seated himself on a chair in the cabin and there was a tub of movie theater popcorn in his lap, which he was crunching loudly as he provided color commentary.

“Ha! Told you so,” he said, when Dean revealed he’d spent the year in Purgatory. And then “Oooh….” as Dean realized Sam hadn’t looked for him.

“Good,” Dean said. “That’s good. We always told each other not to look for each other. That’s smart. Good for you. Of course, we always ignored that because of our deep, abiding love for each other, but not this time, right, Sammy?”

Sam carefully did not look at Lucifer, whose eyes were round as saucers.

“Sam,” Lucifer said. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Shut up,” Sam muttered, so only Lucifer could hear.

“Because Dean sounds more like a clingy ex than your brother.”

“Hello? Sam?” Dean snapped. “You still with me?”

“Look, I’m still the same guy, Dean,” Sam said.

“Well, bully for you. I’m not.” He stomped out of the cabin.

“Welcome back,” Sam said.

He glanced at Lucifer, who had a wide grin on his face.

“What are you so happy about?” Sam snapped at him.

“Oh, nothing. I just forgot how well the two of you get along.”

Sam sighed.

“Buck up, Sammy,” Lucifer continued. “That could’ve gone much worse.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “I mean, he could have stabbed me.” He looked ruefully at the cut on his arm.

“He could have cried when you told him you didn’t look for him,” Lucifer said cheerfully. “Actually, that would’ve been great. I love that single tear of manpain thing he does. Well, it was good entertainment, anyway.” He held out the tub of popcorn towards Sam. “Want some?”

***

Kevin was asleep in the backseat of the Impala, as they drove to his mother’s house. Lucifer sat next to him, looking pissy.

“He’s on my side,” he told Sam.

Sam huffed a little laugh. “You don’t take up any physical space.”

“It’s still annoying. Why don’t you sit back here with the propheteer instead?”

“Propheteer?”

“Yeah, prophet slash Mouseketeer,” Lucifer said. “Honestly, what is he, twelve? My Father can be such a douche canoe.”

Sam smiled, suppressing a laugh. Dean glanced over at him.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Sam said. “I was just remembering something funny.”

“Yeah, I’m hilarious,” Lucifer said, resting his head back and closing his eyes.

“You want to share with the group?” Dean said. Sam waved a dismissive hand.

“It’s nothing, it…wouldn’t make sense,” he said.

“Are you a bad liar,” Lucifer said.

“Dude, what’s up with you?” Dean asked.

“What are you talking about?” Sam said, with his best innocent face.

“Where do I start? I mean, besides quitting hunting for a year, you’re really out of it all the time. You keep smiling at your own thoughts, which are apparently damn hysterical but still not worth telling, and the other night I heard you mutter something to yourself as I was coming out of the bathroom.”

“Thought you broke yourself of talking to me out loud,” Lucifer said, without opening his eyes. “All these reunions must have you pretty unsettled, huh?”

“Dean, you’re reading too much into stuff,” Sam replied. “It…it was a weird year. I’m still getting back into the swing of hunting. I guess it’s got me a little unsettled.”

“Copycat,” Lucifer said.

Dean looked at Sam closely. “Okay,” he said, after a moment. “If you say so. You’d tell me if something was wrong, though. Right, Sammy?”

“Yeah, of course,” Sam replied.

Lucifer laughed, opening his eyes and leaning forward. “Do you two lie to each other all the time just to keep the spark alive?”

“I’m not lying,” Sam said defensively. “I said I’d tell him if something was wrong. Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re withholding, which is tantamount to lying. You cried for a whole year over ‘lying’ to Amelia by not telling her about hunting. I have the tearstained shirts to prove it.”

“On a scale of one to ten,” Sam said frostily, “how much do you think Dean would freak out right now if I told him I still hear you in my head?”

Lucifer chewed his lip thoughtfully. “Scale of one to ten?”

“Yeah.”

“Probably about a billion.”

“Yeah,” Sam said.

Lucifer leaned back against the seat. “Okay, but you know the longer you wait, the worse he’s going to be, right?”

“There’s no reason he ever needs to know.”

Lucifer snorted. “Hey, it’s your life, Sasquatch. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

***

Sam and Dean had been driving for hours without speaking, the silence thick and uncomfortable. Sam had slept restlessly, on and off, but it was morning, and the pale, early daylight had chased away any possibility of rest. He stared at the road, laid out straight in front of them, too distracted to take in the fields full of wildflowers on either side.

From the backseat, Lucifer looked back and forth between Sam and Dean.

“This is really awkward,” he said.

“Not now,” Sam muttered.

“No, I mean it. I feel uncomfortable. Mommy, are you and Daddy going to get a divorce?”

Sam grimaced and shook his head. Dean glanced at him, but didn’t say anything.

“Come on, Sam. Just because you two are all butt-hurt at each other, as usual, doesn’t mean I should have to suffer. Would you at least try to make up with him?”

“I’m telling you, I’m not in the mood,” Sam said, voice rising slightly.

“Just tell him that he made you all sad with the stuff he said when he was possessed by the vengeance spirit spectre thing. He’ll apologize, you’ll have a manly hunter hug, and we can all move on with our lives.”

“I said I’m not in the fucking mood!” Sam said, jamming his thumb hard into his scar. Lucifer disappeared, and Sam looked up to see Dean’s suddenly bloodless face staring at him. He pulled his hands apart quickly.

“What?” he demanded. Dean turned the wheel sharply to the right, pulling over and slamming on the brakes. He gripped the steering wheel.

“When the fuck were you going to tell me about this?” he asked in a low voice.

Sam put his head back, suddenly exhausted. “Tell you about what?” he said.

Dean glared at him. “Don’t you fucking lie to me, Sammy. Not about this.”

“Dean, it’s not what you think.”

“Oh yeah? Because I think you’re hearing Lucifer again!”

Sam was silent.

“Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not wrong,” Sam replied. “But – ”

“Jesus, Sam, I can’t believe…” Dean rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know why it took me so long to figure it out. You’re just like you were two years ago.”

“No, it’s not like that anymore,” Sam tried, but Dean was shaking his head.

“How long?” he asked. Sam sighed. “How long, Sam?”

“Pretty much as soon as you got sent to Purgatory,” Sam replied.

Dean looked stricken. “Since then? Fuck, man, why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t think you’d understand,” Sam mumbled.

“Not understand?” Dean said. “What’s not to understand?!”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Sam said. “If you’d just listen – ”

“I am listening!”

“Well, if you’d stop interrupting me!”

Dean fell silent, and gave a short nod. Sam took a breath.

“He’s not – okay, well, the first thing to know is, he can’t make me hallucinate anymore. Or doesn’t, but I don’t think he can. And the hand scar works again. I can make him go away when I want to.”

Dean gave a little laugh. “You make it sound like there are times you don’t want him to.”

Sam swallowed. “There are.”

Dean stared at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“He’s – look, he’s not like he used to be, Dean. I mean – so, when you went to Purgatory, I had no one, okay? No you, no Bobby, no Cas…Crowley got Meg and Kevin, even.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean said, voice a little softer.

“And Lucifer – well, he lives in my head. So, he doesn’t have anyone, either. Except – ”

“Oh, please don’t say what I think you’re about to say.”

“Except me,” Sam said firmly. “And, don’t get me wrong, for awhile he was a real dick. He can still be a dick. But…it was a long year.” He shrugged. “And we became…friends. Kind of.”

Dean was staring at the Imapala’s dashboard. “Can’t imagine why you thought I wouldn’t understand that,” he said.

“Dean – ”

“He spent a year trying to kill you, Sam! He tortured you!”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t fucked up, Dean. But what about our lives isn’t fucked up?”

Dean nodded. “So, you don’t want to find a way to get rid of him, then?” He finally looked at Sam.

“I…no.” Sam frowned. “I don’t think we could anyway, do you?”

“We could try.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s…not really necessary.”

Dean shook his head. “I dunno, Sam. I go away for a year and you get a dog and become besties with Satan. I don’t know who the fuck you are anymore.” He put the car in drive again and pulled onto the highway.

“Dean – ” Sam started, but Dean flipped on the radio and turned it way up, even though the song that had come on was by Justin Bieber.

“He must really be upset,” Lucifer shouted from the backseat, hands over his ears.

“How did you get back so fast?” Sam asked, his tone resigned.

“WHAT?” Lucifer yelled. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Cut the theatrics, I know you can hear me,” he said. Lucifer dropped his hands and smirked.

“In answer to your question, I don’t know. I guess you must have missed me.”

Sam rolled his eyes harder.

“I heard you sticking up for me,” Lucifer said.

“When did I do that?”

“Oh, please.” Lucifer leaned forward and rested his chin on the seat, looking smug. “You told your brother we’re friends.”

“So?”

“You said you didn’t want to get rid of me.”

“I said I didn’t think I could.”

“You like me,” Lucifer said, sing-song.

“Haven’t we been over this before?” Sam said, trying to sound annoyed, but his face had relaxed and he was looking out the passenger side window to hide a little smile from Dean.

“It just makes me feel all warm and gooey,” Lucifer said, tousling Sam’s hair. Sam slapped his hand away, still smiling.

***

Dean didn’t mention Lucifer again. Sam was relieved, at first, not to have to talk about it. Then, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, he started to feel a little annoyed. He stopped trying so hard to hide his reactions to Lucifer, but Dean still ignored all the signs.

Until Castiel returned from Purgatory. Castiel had just come out of the bathroom, the dirt and blood gone from his skin and clothing, clean and looking freshly shaved.

“Dean looks really impressed with Castiel’s makeover,” Lucifer said. He was leaning against a wall behind Sam.

“I guess,” Sam said.

“Do you think he’s into him?”

“What – Dean into Cas?”

“Why not? Castiel is obviously way in love with him.”

Sam huffed a little laugh. It was barely audible, but Dean looked sharply at him, and his expression turned hard.

“Seriously?” he spit out. “Right now?”

“Dean,” Sam said quietly.

“It’s not enough that Cas is back? You’ve got to chat with your imaginary friend?”

“Tell your brother words can hurt,” Lucifer said.

“It’s not like that, Dean,” Sam said. “He’s just…there, sometimes.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, looking from one to the other in confusion. “Who is here?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean said, turning to Castiel with an affronted attitude. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you, man.”

Castiel frowned. “Which one do you want to pick?”

“Just wanted to say – real good job healing Sam up last year.” Dean gave him a thumbs up. “Just stellar work, getting Lucifer out of his head.”

“I don’t understand.” Castiel looked at Sam. “Lucifer was gone. I fixed you.”

“Next time, be a little more thorough about it, would you?” Dean said.

“Sam?” Castiel said.

Sam sighed. “It’s okay, Cas.”

“Do you still see Lucifer?”

“Yeah, but it’s not – “

“Oh, I don’t want to hear this bullshit again,” Dean said, getting up and heading out the door. “I’m going on a beer run.” He slammed the door behind him.

“Sam,” Castiel said solemnly. “I am so sorry. I truly believed that I had lifted this burden from you. I even saw Lucifer myself, for a time.”

“I’d forgotten that,” Sam said. He glanced at Lucifer. “Were you – ”

“Nope,” Lucifer said. “I never left here. Guess he had his own version. Not as long-lived, apparently. Probably not as fun as me.”

“I will try again,” Castiel said, reaching towards Sam, fingers outstretched. Sam pulled away.

“It’s okay, Cas, really,” he said. “It’s not a problem.”

“I don’t understand.”

Sam did his best to explain, as he had with Dean. Castiel listened, nodding slowly. When Sam had finished, Castiel’s eyes flicked around the room.

“Is he present now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sam said.

“Tell him I said hello,” Lucifer whispered.

“Uh, he says hi,” Sam said. Castiel cocked his head to the side.

“Hello…” he said cautiously.

“Ask him if he misses me,” Lucifer urged. Sam rolled his eyes.

“And he doesn’t try to hurt you anymore?” Castiel asked.

“No, never,” Sam said. “I mean, sometimes he’s an asshole.”

“Sam, don’t air our dirty laundry to my little brother.”

“But, like friends do. He’s just giving me a hard time.”

“Now you’re just being condescending,” Lucifer put in.

“Mostly he’s just, I don’t know, this guy that hangs out in the back of my head,” Sam said. “He’s weirdly good company, when he wants to be. And he actually listens to my problems, if you can believe that.”

“I’m glad,” Castiel said. “For both of you.” He sighed. “I was alone in Purgatory. I understand how difficult it can be. I think I would have welcomed a friendly voice.”

“Kinda friendly,” Sam said, with a slight smile.

“Even that,” Castiel said. “Even Lucifer.” He was silent for a moment. “I think I understand him better now. His frustration with some of our Father’s decisions.”

Sam glanced at Lucifer, waiting for a snarky comment, but Lucifer had crossed his arms over his chest, his face unreadable.

“Would you mind if I watched some television?” Castiel asked politely. Sam smiled and shook his head.

“Knock yourself out.” Castiel frowned.

“Why would I – ”

“It’s an idiom, Cas. I just mean, go on ahead.”

***

Sam sat on a bench, watching the park in front of him with a morose expression.

“Don’t you ever get tired of brooding?” Lucifer asked. He sat next to Sam, leg crossed over one knee, jiggling it impatiently.

Sam only sighed in reply, and Lucifer rolled his eyes.

“Seriously. For a guy who just got laid for the first time in months, you’re awfully sulky. Aren’t you happy to see your cranky doctor lady again?”

“It just…brought up a lot of feelings,” Sam mumbled.

“Oh, no. Not feelings.”

“And the fight with Dean. I just…” Sam sighed again. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Well, don’t look at me. I’m the fake Satan who lives in your head. I’m here to mock you, not dispense life advice.”

Castiel appeared suddenly, in the place Sam had imagined Lucifer to be occupying. Sam jumped a mile.

“Watching humanity – it never gets old, does it?” Castiel said.

“Cas,” Sam gasped, willing his racing heart to slow. “You startled me.”

“You’d think by now you’d be used to angels appearing suddenly for a chat,” Lucifer said. He had moved to stand behind the bench.

Castiel looked at Sam. “Dean and the prophet Kevin and I need your help.”

Sam looked away. “I don’t know, Cas.”

“Crowley has kidnapped an angel. Samandriel.”

“Alfie?”

“We believe he is being tortured. We need to free him.” Castiel’s gaze was steady, and sad. “Sam. I have failed so many of my brothers. I cannot fail this one.”

Sam chewed his lip, avoiding Castiel’s eyes.

“Would you quit playing hard to get and say yes already? You know you can’t say no to his puppy dog face.” Lucifer paused. “I’m starting to think you have a thing for him, too. Maybe not like Dean, but there’s definitely something – ”

“Okay,” Sam said quickly. “I’ll go with you.”

Castiel nodded and touched Sam’s shoulder, and they disappeared.

***

“Well, I do know this,” Dean said, back at Rufus’ cabin the next day. “Whatever you decide, decide. Both feet in or both feet out. Anything in between is what gets you dead.”

“Yeah, I keep hearing that,” Sam replied. “I’m gonna…take a walk. Clear my head.”

He shut the cabin door quietly behind him, and set off into the woods. “Lucifer?” he said.

Lucifer appeared next to him, an eyebrow raised. “You rang?”

“I’m trying to figure out what I should do. Hunting, or…see if Amelia’s waiting for me.” He hesitated. “What…what do you think?”

“Please tell me you’re joking.” Sam just looked at him. “What did I say about this? I’m not your damn life coach.”

“Well, I could use someone else’s thoughts,” Sam snapped.

“And I’m just the invisible BFF to give my input?”

“It’s not just that,” Sam said. “It’s, I mean…You have to live my life, too. Kind of.”

Lucifer blinked at him. “What?”

“You live in my head. You can’t go anywhere, and you can’t see anything but what I see.”

“When you let me,” Lucifer said.

“Look, I’m not giving you final say, or anything. But I want your input.”

Lucifer pursed his lips, and they walked in silence for a moment.

“If Dean’s out fighting the good fight, and you’re in Kermit, Texas with your girlfriend, all you’re going to do is work yourself up into a guilt spiral once a month,” Lucifer said finally. “It’s the Sam Winchester period. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“Yeah,” Sam said quietly.

“But, I know you’ll feel the need to tell me all about it, every time it happens. At great length. While you cry, and I suppress my gag reflex. Which I do not want.”

Sam smiled, just a little.

“And if we’re talking about what I do want…”

“Yeah?”

Lucifer shrugged. “You two see a lot of shit towns. But at least there’s the occasional scenery on the road. And watching you fight is more entertaining than being hand-scarred away from watching you have sex.”

Sam nodded slowly. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

“Ugh. After a Hallmark moment like that, I feel like I need to take a shower,” Lucifer muttered.

***

Later that night, after the boxing match was long over and Sam and Dean had drunk their way through a televised Clint Eastwood movie, Dean turned off the TV with a sigh. He and Sam sat quietly for a few minutes, sipping their beers.

“I probably shouldn’t ask this,” Dean said. “I should probably just leave it alone, but…”

“What?” Sam said, when he didn’t go on.

“What…what made you stay, man?” Dean blurted.

“Um.” Sam cleared his throat. “I guess it just seemed like the right thing to do. See this through.”

“Okay, but there’s your girl, and you always hated hunting anyway. What made you come down in favor of the life?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I talked to –” He cut himself off abruptly. Damn it, he thought. Too many beers. Dean, too, or he wouldn’t be asking this, Sam knew.

“Who?” Dean asked. “Amelia? You got cell service in those woods?”

“Uh.” Sam’s tongue wasn’t catching up with his brain in time to lie, and before he could recover, he saw Dean’s face twist in anger.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said. “Lucifer?”

Sam sighed. “Dean, I don’t wanna argue with you, okay?”

“You’re taking advice from Lucifer now?”

“I couldn’t believe it either,” Lucifer said, from a chair a few feet away.

“Go away,” Sam hissed, unwilling to press the hand scar and get Dean even more pissy.

“No way. You two arguing is my soap opera. Now that I never get to watch Charmed.”

Dean got up from the couch, shaking his head. “I don’t even know what to say to you anymore, Sam.”

“Well, Lucifer convinced me to do what you wanted me to do,” Sam said. “So I don’t know what you’re so pissed about.”

Dean glared at him. “Right. Great. Tell him I’m real friggin’ grateful. Good night, Sam.” He threw his beer bottle into the trash and went to the bathroom, closing the door a little too hard behind him.

“You’re welcome!” Lucifer called after him cheerfully. Sam leaned his head back and sighed.

***

What Sam and Dean had thought was a single vampire working alone had turned out to be a pair. Dean was fighting the male on the other side of the room, while Sam had just shot the female full of dead man’s blood and was trying to take her head off with a knife as she battered his forearms weakly. Sam wished he had the machete, but it had been in Dean’s hand last time he’d glanced up.

He was so intent on his task that he didn’t sense the creature nearly on top of him until he heard Lucifer’s warning shout.

“Behind you, moron!”

Sam spun around, just in time to roll away from the vampire’s lunge. He jumped to his feet and, after grappling with the vampire for a few minutes, managed to stick him with the knife, which had also been dipped in dead man’s blood. Dean, who had dispatched his own vampire, came over to help finish off the other two.

“Nice catch with that one sneaking up behind you,” he said.

“You saw that?”

“Yeah, my guy was choking me and I couldn’t yell to you. I was freaking out. Thought you were a goner for sure. I can’t believe you heard him. Dude moved like a ninja cat.”

Sam wiped his knife clean on his sleeve, studiously avoiding Dean’s eyes. “Actually, I didn’t hear him.”

“Yeah? You just feel him behind you?”

“No.” Sam looked up finally. “Lucifer warned me.”

Dean blinked, frowning. “You’re shitting me.”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

Sam shrugged. “I told you. We’re friends. Sort of.”

“Huh.” Dean went across the room to gather up the weapons he’d dropped.

“Aw,” Lucifer said. “That just warms my heart every time, Sammy.”

“Thanks,” Sam said.

“There’s no need for your sarcasm.”

“I meant, for saving my life.”

Lucifer snorted. “I’m just looking out for my own. As dumb as you are, I honestly don’t know how you’ve lived this long. Oh, wait a second – you haven’t.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Do you think they were fucking?” Lucifer mused, as they walked back to the car.

“What? Who?”

“The vampires. I mean, you idiots thought it was just one. Then it turned out to be a couple. Then that other guy shows up and would’ve killed you, if not for my heroic intervention.” He paused. “You know what they call two guys and a girl together, don’t you?”

“I bet you’re going to tell me.”

“Devil’s three-way.”

Sam gave a little laugh, shaking his head. Dean glanced back at him with a strange expression on his face.

“What’d he say?” he asked, as he opened the trunk and began replacing the weaponry.

Sam hesitated for a moment. “Uh, he was speculating about the vampires’ sex lives.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Really.”

“Yeah. He pointed out that two guys and a girl together is called a – ”

Dean’s lip twitched. “Yeah, I know what it’s called. Tell him he’s not as funny as he thinks he is.”

“It’s true,” Lucifer said. “I’m even funnier.”

***

Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair in the Men of Letters’ lair, rubbing his eyes. He frowned at the stack of books next to him.

“Go to bed, already,” Lucifer said from across the table. “You’ve been working on this for six hours. It’s not like there’s any rush. Dean won’t be back from checking on Kevin for another day.”

“If I finish cataloging this stack, I can put them back and that whole bookshelf will be done,” Sam said. “I’m so close.”

“You know the Men of Letters already catalogued them, right?”

“Yeah, in an actual card catalogue. I want to have it on the computer, too.” He opened the next book with a determined air and started tapping away at his keyboard, only to be interrupted by a yawn so big he had to stop typing till it was over.

“Couldn’t you just digitize the catalogue, then?”

“I want to look at the books,” Sam said.

“Like you even know what you’re doing. You learned how to use a law library; that doesn’t mean you can put your hair up in a bun and shush everybody with authority.” Lucifer tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Sam. “Actually, we probably could get your hair into a bun. Want to try?”

“Shh…” Sam said. Two seconds later he was yawning again.

“All right,” Lucifer said, crossing to stand behind Sam. “Shove over. I’ll finish this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Let me drive,” Lucifer said impatiently. Sam stared at him blankly. A moment later, his left hand twitched, not of his own volition. He slammed his other hand down on it.

“Stop that,” he said, glaring at Lucifer.

“Would you relax? I’m going to do your boring cataloguing for you, and then you can go to bed.”

“The last time you ‘drove,’ you took me to a warehouse and tried to get me to shoot myself!”

“Sam, I haven’t tried to kill you for almost two years! Where’s the trust?”

“How would it even help? It’s my body that’s tired. My brain. That’s what you’ll be using.”

Lucifer shrugged. “It might work. You never know till you try.”

Sam hesitated.

“Come on! It’ll be fun.”

“Fun for you, maybe.” Sam chewed his lip. “How would we even – ”

“Easy.” In a flash, Sam saw his hands grab a new book; his fingers flip to the title page and start entering the information into his laptop. He could see what was happening, but he couldn’t control it. Panic crashed through him and he forced himself – forced Lucifer – to stop typing.

“Oh, calm down,” Lucifer said. Sam could see him in the chair next to him again. Sam breathed deeply, his heart racing.

“You can’t – you can’t just do that!” he said.

“Obviously, I can.”

“Well then don’t!” Sam ran a hand through his hair.

“Jeez. Sorry,” Lucifer said, sounding annoyed. He stared at Sam, who was still struggling to breathe calmly, and his expression changed. “Okay, look, I didn’t mean for you to freak out, you big baby.”

“Just ask, okay? Don’t just – start driving,” Sam said.

Lucifer held up his hands. “Okay, okay.”

“You know, I was actually thinking about letting you!”

“I know.”

“Then why did you have to jump in before I got a chance to say yes?”

“You know me, Sam. I’m impetuous.” Lucifer frowned, staring at the table. “I just...wanted to do something. Anything.”

Sam got still, staring at Lucifer. Lucifer glanced up and made a face.

“I hate when you look at me like that, Sam.”

Sam looked away. He turned back to the laptop and typed a few words, then yawned again.

“Okay, I’m obviously done for the night,” he said, with studied casualness. “Why don’t you, um…finish this record, and then see how we feel.”

Lucifer blinked at him. A second later, Sam’s fingers were busy at work, while he watched sleepily.

“It actually does seem like you have more energy than I do,” Sam said. “Weird. You wouldn’t think it could work like that. Maybe there’s something in the shift in thought patterns? Or, I guess you are kind of a byproduct of the supernatural, what with the wall and everything, so maybe – ”

“Would you shut up, Chatty Cathy?” Lucifer said, glancing back at the book. “I’m trying to get this done.”

Sam smiled, and was quiet.

***

“You know,” Dean said, “when I look back at what our family’s been through, what everybody’s been through, seeing all that pain…I realize that the only way we’ve made it through it all is by hanging together. I trust you, Sammy. With this deal, locking those sons of bitches up in the furnace once and for all, it’s too important not to. So if you say you’re good…then that’s it. I’m with you one hundred percent.”

In the backseat, Lucifer started a slow clap.

“I’m good,” Sam said. He coughed a few times, fist in front of his mouth. Glancing down at his hand, he realized there was blood on it.

Lucifer leaned forward, frowning.

“I’m not exactly a master of human biology, because it’s disgusting and I try to know as little about it as possible, but I’m pretty sure that crap’s supposed to be on the inside.”

“Yeah,” Sam said quietly. He rubbed his hand clean on his jeans hastily.

“Fuck.” Lucifer flopped back against the backseat and sighed. “This isn’t going to end well.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, because when my dad gets involved, it’s always a fun, relaxing time, isn’t it? Hey, maybe the second trial will be eating an ice cream cone! And for the third, we have a fun day at the zoo.”

“I can handle it,” Sam said, staring out the passenger side window.

Lucifer snorted. “Are you going to tell Dean?”

“Are you kidding? When I just got him on board?”

“Under the assumption that you’re okay. Which you’re demonstrably not. I’ve seen movies. Coughing up blood is a surefire sign you’re going to die.”

“Yeah, back when people got consumption.”

“So, that’s a no on telling big brother.”

Sam sighed. “Dean will just insist on taking over the trials.”

“Well, that’s true. His martyr streak is even wider than yours, which I can’t believe is possible. Maybe you should let him do it.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sam said tonelessly.

“I’m just saying. You die, you fuck over you and me both. If he dies, it’s just him.”

“I said shut the fuck up.” Sam jammed his thumb into the hand scar, so hard he gave a little gasp of pain. Dean glanced over, eyebrow raised.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Sometimes he runs his mouth,” Sam muttered.

“Satan? Mouthy? No...” Sam’s smile was more like a grimace. “Gotta say, I’m kinda glad you don’t get along with him every second. Shows you’re still thinking for yourself.”

“Of course I am, Dean.”

“Yeah, I can see that. And hey, as long as he’s got your back, I guess he can’t be all bad.” He laughed shortly. “Never thought I’d be saying that about the devil.”

Sam didn’t reply. Dean eyed him.

“Geez. What did he say to get you this pissy?”

Sam finally looked at him. “Nothing, man. I’m just tired. Think I’ll try and get some sleep.” He folded up his jacket to use as a pillow and closed his eyes. He fell asleep to the sound of Dean softly humming “Battle of Evermore.”

***

Sam and Dean were pressed flat to a cement wall, held in place by Artemis’ power. Lucifer, tapping his foot impatiently, was watching Zeus.

“The guy never shuts up, does he?” Lucifer said. “He’s always been like this, you know.”

“You knew him?” Sam asked. Lucifer waved a hand.

“Knew of him, at least. Artemis, too. She was awfully uppity. Prideful, I guess I should say. It’s a trait I can appreciate, but she brought it to a whole new level.”

“Uh huh,” Sam said, watching Zeus talk to Hayley and Prometheus. Lucifer snapped his fingers in front of Sam’s face.

“Hey! Pay attention when I talk to you. You might learn something.”

Sam frowned at him. “Like what?”

“Like, I used to hear rumors about her. And about him.”

“Him who? Prometheus?” Lucifer nodded, and understanding dawned on Sam’s face. “What kind of rumors?”

Lucifer grinned.

***

“How did you know Artemis had the hots for Prometheus, anyway?” Dean asked, when they were in the car, heading back towards the Men of Letters’ lair.

“Lucifer,” Sam said. “He said he’d heard about them, back in the day.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean said, reluctantly impressed. “And he just told you that?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied. “Sure. Why wouldn’t he?”

Dean shrugged. “Well, he saved both our asses this time.”

“Tell Dean I said you’re welcome,” Lucifer said. Sam laughed. Dean glanced at him, and Lucifer leaned forward.

“Tell him,” he repeated, insistently.

“Uh, Lucifer says you’re welcome,” Sam said.

Dean was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, I guess – thanks,” he said.

“I knew it,” Lucifer said. “I knew he loves me, too. Tell him.”

“Uh…”

“Tell him!”

“What? What’d he say?” Dean asked.

“He says, he knows you love him, too.”

Dean snorted. “Tell him not to push his luck.” But he was smiling.

Sam put his head back, frowning a little.

“You look like you’re thinking hard,” Lucifer said. “Does it hurt?”

“I was just wondering,” Sam said. “How did you know about Artemis and Prometheus?”

“Uh…were you listening to the conversation you just had with Dean?”

“No, I mean – I get that you heard about them. But how did you know that? I didn’t know that. You live in my brain. How can you know things I don’t know?”

“You were my vessel – you know, the other me. All my knowledge and memories were in your head.”

“Yeah. Were. I didn’t remember that stuff after the other Lucifer left. Some of what he thought and felt when he was actually here, but not the rest of it.”

Lucifer shrugged. “Well, I remember it.”

“Huh.” Sam reflected on this for a moment. “Maybe I retained it deep down somewhere, and you’re able to access that, even though I can’t.”

“Sure, whatever,” Lucifer said, sounding bored.

“But wait a minute – there’s no way I could keep all that. Lucifer had – ”

“Ahem.”

“The other Lucifer had centuries and centuries of knowledge. I could barely contain it when I had an angel riding me.”

“Oh, and I sure did ride you, didn’t I, Sammy?” Lucifer reached forward and started petting Sam’s hair. Sam slapped his hand, and Lucifer sat back again, smirking. “I doubt you’ve got all of it in here. But there’s some. And I’ve got the keys.” His voice became sing-song. “Thank you for calling the Lucifer Hotline. Dial ‘1’ for information. ‘2’ for moose control services. ‘3’ for – ”

“Shut up,” Sam said, trying not to smile. He shut his eyes, and determinedly ignored Lucifer’s continuing menu options.

***

A couple days later, Sam entered the Men of Letters hub, loaded down with the groceries Dean had demanded in his recent culinary kick (“Seriously? You need parsley?” he’d said when Dean handed him the list, but Dean had just pushed him out the door, grinning), as well as the obligatory twelve-pack.

It was stupid, Sam thought, but he liked that they bought twelve-packs when they were at the hub, instead of six-packs, which was the standard if they were on the road. It added to the hub’s sense of hominess, that they could buy a bunch of beer and leave it till they wanted it.

“That really is stupid,” Lucifer agreed, grinning lazily. “You two have had such a tragic life, a fridge full of beer means home.” His tone was entirely friendly, lacking even the slight edge such jibes usually held. He was in a good mood. Sam had let him drive (in both senses of the word) to the store and back. Lucifer had stayed present during the shopping trip, suggesting a number of outrageous items and attempting to take control long enough to put some of them in the cart. Sam stopped him, but let him get a box of Honey Nut Cheerios when it seemed like Lucifer actually wanted them.

“Shut up,” Sam replied automatically, shaking his head and grinning back. Lucifer bounded down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Sam heard – or would felt be more appropriate? – Lucifer anticipating the bowl of Cheerios he was going to try and convince Sam to eat as soon as they got the groceries put away. It was a little weird, still, when they could read each other’s thoughts like that. It mostly seemed to happen when Lucifer had been ‘driving.’ It could be unsettling, but most of the time it didn’t bother Sam too much.

Sam called out to Dean, letting him know he was home. He heard an answering shout, and Dean joined him almost immediately in the kitchen, helping to put the groceries away and inspecting Sam’s choices.

“Good, you got the good bacon,” he murmured.

“Yeah, Dean, I got exactly what you told me to get,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. Lucifer, sitting backwards on a kitchen chair, snickered.

Dean pulled the Honey Nut Cheerios out of the bag and raised an eyebrow at Sam.

“Seriously? I thought you hated these.”

“No, I just got sick of them after it was practically all we had to eat that week when I was twelve and Dad was away hunting longer than expected, and we ran out of money cause you thought we had extra and spent it on beer.”

“Oh, yeah.” Dean laughed. “So, what, you were feeling nostalgic?”

“No. Lucifer wanted them.”

Dean smirked. “You’re kidding. The devil has a thing for breakfast cereal? Tell him if he wants something good, he should try Peanut Butter Cap’n Crunch.”

“This is good; you just have no taste, you stupid ape,” Lucifer said, using Sam’s voice, and snatching the box away from Dean with Sam’s hand. Sam froze.

It had happened without either of them thinking about it. Sam had gotten into the habit of letting Lucifer drive sometimes, if they were alone; do little tasks, or read something he found interesting…they even talked out loud to each other occasionally. But they had never done it in front of Dean.

Realizing his mistake, Lucifer withdrew immediately, and Sam turned quickly to his brother.

“Dean – ” he said. But the damage was already done. Dean’s face was ashen, his eyes wide and panicked.

“Shit,” Lucifer muttered, back in the chair now. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, expression rueful.

“Sammy?” Dean croaked. Sam hurried around the table to him.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” he said, taking Dean’s elbow. “Sit down, man, you’re freaking me out. You look like you’re about to faint.”

Dean laughed hollowly, letting Sam guide him into a chair, which was maybe the most worrying thing of all – Sam had seen Dean claim he was going to “walk it off” when he had a broken rib, several knife wounds, and a concussion.

“I’m freaking you out?” Dean said, voice strained. Sam hurriedly filled a glass with water from the tap and brought it back to Dean. Dean stared at it for a moment like he was trying to figure out what it was, then put it down on the table, untouched.

“Dean, it’s not what it looked it,” Sam said. Dean looked up at him slowly. The color was back in his face; in fact, he was rapidly becoming flushed.

“Not what it looked like?” he repeated. He stood up so fast he knocked his chair over.

“Not what it looked like?” he said again, almost shouting now. “Because you know what it looked like, Sammy, it like you were fucking possessed by Satan!”

“He wasn’t possessing me,” Sam said, keeping his voice calm.

“Oh yeah?” Dean said, getting up in his face. “Was he talking through your mouth? Was he using your goddamn hands?”

“Dean – ”

“Was he?”

Sam sighed. “Yeah, but – ”

“Cause that’s pretty much the textbook fucking definition of possession!”

“It’s not possession if you agree to it!” Sam tried. It was the wrong thing to say. Dean’s face darkened, and his voice was low and dangerous.

“Oh yeah? You gave the okay? Decided to let the devil ride you? Be his little bitch?”

“Just say yes,” Lucifer advised. “That’s what he wants to hear.” Sam’s eyes flicked towards him, surprised to see that Lucifer’s expression was more like resignation tinged with sadness than anger or annoyance.

Sam tried to keep his face blank, but he must have given something away, because Dean grabbed him suddenly by the lapels.

“Is he fucking listening?” he hissed.

“Uh – ”

“Tell him – ” Sam almost thought he heard Lucifer think sorry but he quickly said, “I didn’t mean to do that to him.”

“He says he didn’t mean to do that to you,” Sam said, then frowned. “Wait, do what to you?”

Dean gave him a little shake, staring into Sam’s eyes. “You make him go the fuck away.”

“Okay, okay,” Sam said. He glanced apologetically at Lucifer, who waved dismissively and disappeared.

“He’s gone,” Sam reported to Dean.

“You didn’t do the hand thing.”

“He left on his own. I didn’t have to make him.”

Dean stared at him for another moment, a hard expression on his face, then nodded and released Sam, exhaling and turning away.

Sam smoothed his shirt. “What did he mean?”

“Sam, you can be a real fucking idiot sometimes.”

“I don’t –”

“Sam!” Dean turned back on him, pain suddenly warring with the anger on his face. “It’s not – “ He swallowed hard, eyes bright. “It’s not the first time Lucifer’s talked to me through you.”

Sam felt his shoulders slump. “Oh,” he said dumbly. “Right. Fuck.”

“I mean…how do you not think of that, man?”

Sam shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. I guess – I guess I don’t think of him as Lucifer anymore. Not that Lucifer. He’s not like him, really. Mine is – “

“Yours?” Dean spit, looking aghast. Sam sighed.

“I’m just calling him that to differentiate from the one in the Cage,” he said impatiently. “It’s shorter than ‘the Lucifer that lives in my head.’”

Dean had crossed the room and pulled a beer out of the twelve-pack Sam had brought home.

“It’s not even noon,” Sam said before he could stop himself.

Dean glared at him as he twisted the top off and took a long pull.

“So, this is like, a habit of yours, I take it?” Dean said, after draining what looked like nearly a third of the beer.

Sam sighed. “I let him do some stuff every once in awhile. He gets bored in my head, which makes sense. So if he wants to help me with research or something, I just – ” He gestured. “I just let him drive.”

“You let him drive my car?” Dean’s voice was that dangerous calm again.

“Driving is what we call it when I let him take over,” Sam explained. And then, some stupid, defiant part of himself caused him to add, “But yeah, I let him drive drive, sometimes.”

Dean put down the beer. His face was closed off now, unreadable, the kind that meant he was really upset.

“Well, I guess I should’ve known,” he said quietly. “He always said you’d say yes to him. Just didn’t figure on it happening more than once.”

“Dean – ”

“There’s some freaky part of you that always wanted to say yes, huh, Sammy?”

Dean wasn’t looking at him, and even though he’d said ‘freaky,’ not freak, it was close enough. Anger and hurt rose in Sam’s chest, and – since he was a Winchester – anger was what showed.

“Fuck you, Dean,” he said. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Dean gave him one last, reproachful glance before leaving the kitchen. He left his beer on the counter (another bad sign, Sam thought, but he squashed it) and Sam dumped it out in the sink before putting away the rest of the groceries.

***

Dean didn’t come out of his room for hours. Sam walked by the door a couple times, but all he could hear was Dean playing Led Zeppelin II, over and over again.

As if he didn’t hear it enough in the car every day.

Sam was reading in the library when he finally heard Dean’s door open. He sat still, fingers clutching his book tightly, dragging his eyes blindly over the text. He didn’t look up until Dean was standing right in front of him.

Dean’s face was set. “Listen,” he said. “I know I’m not going to convince you to get rid of your little imaginary friend. But I don’t want to hear about it anymore. And I sure as hell don’t want to hear from him.”

“Nice choice of words,” Lucifer said from across the table. Sam ignored him.

“Dean, I – ” Dean turned on his heel.

“I’m going out,” he said over his shoulder. “Don’t wait up.” In a minute, he was gone, door closing firmly (not slammed) behind him.

Sam put down his book and tilted his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“So much for my budding bromance with Dean,” Lucifer said.

“He knows he’s being a dick,” Sam said. “He just doesn’t want to admit he was wrong.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, it was a mistake to spring it on him,” Sam said. “But neither of us meant for that to happen. He shouldn’t refuse to acknowledge you ever again.”

“Why?” Lucifer said. “I’m just a product of your fucked-up brain.” He disappeared.

Sam sighed and got up to find some dinner. He ate two bowls of Honey Nut Cheerios, but Lucifer didn’t reappear.

***

“I’ve been searching for the other half of the demon tablet,” Castiel said.

“Without us?” Dean demanded.

“I’ve been trying to help, Dean. And in my search, I uncovered that Crowley has sent out demons to find Lucifer’s crypts.”

“Lucifer had crypts?”

Sam looked at Dean. True to his word, Dean had been pretending that Lucifer – Sam’s Lucifer – didn’t exist. Sam thought this mention of the other Lucifer might change things, but Dean didn’t even glance his way.

“You had crypts?” Sam asked Lucifer. Lucifer shrugged.

“Sure. Why not?”

“But why the storage wars? I mean, what the hell are they all looking for?” Sam said aloud. He looked at Lucifer, too.

“You can’t expect me to remember every little thing we put in those,” Lucifer snapped. Sam rolled his eyes.

“They’re looking for a parchment that would allow them to decipher Crowley’s half of the demon tablet without a prophet,” Castiel explained.

“What? That doesn’t exist,” Lucifer said.

“You just said you don’t remember everything,” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah, well, there’s things I don’t remember, and then there are things that are just bullshit.”

“You’re just pissed you don’t know what he’s talking about,” Sam said.

“Fine, be that way. But don’t blame me when this all ends in tears.” Lucifer folded his arms over his chest and looked vaguely smug. Sam rolled his eyes again.

***

Sam moved quietly through Purgatory, knife unsheathed, trying to stay alert in case a Leviathan or other monster showed up.

“Here we see the moose in its natural habitat,” Lucifer said quietly, in a British accent. He was walking half a step behind Sam. “This sneaky moose is attempting to tiptoe through the brush, because he thinks he’s a goddamn ninja, when he is, in fact, a giant fucking moose.”

“Thanks, that’s helpful,” Sam said.

“This place sucks, huh? I don’t know how your brother managed a year here without opening his wrists just to see color.” Lucifer picked up a stick and examined it, then threw it down in disgust. “Time sure hasn’t improved it, I can tell you that much.”

“When were you here?” Sam asked.

“My dad took me.” Lucifer grimaced. “When he was building the craphole.”

“You know,” Sam said casually. “You like to make fun of me and Dean for our father issues, but you - “

“Shut your mouth, Winchester,” Lucifer said. Sam stepped on a branch and was suddenly attacked by a monster neither he nor Lucifer had seen coming. Lucifer watched with a bored expression as Sam fought and quickly beheaded it.

“See?” Lucifer said, when he was done. “Sucks. That thing barely put up a fight.”

“It put up enough of one for me,” Sam said.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to watch it.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on, I think it’s down here.” They kept going, and a moment later they found the place Ajay had described. Sam pulled away a large stone and gaped at the tunnel opening.

“It’s a rabbit hole,” he said. “This is nuts.”

“You’re talking to me out loud again,” Lucifer pointed out. “I think we should consider the possibility that you’re nuts.”

Sam stepped inside, Lucifer following closely behind him. Lucifer took a deep, satisfied breath.

“Smell that sweet, sulfurous air!” he said heartily. “Home sweet home!”

Sam coughed, making a face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He took off his watch and put it on a nearby ledge.

“What did you do that for?” Lucifer demanded.

“So we can find the exit again.”

“Don’t we need to know what time it is? So we can meet the Reaper?”

“This shouldn’t take that long,” Sam rationalized. “This is probably the way he brought in Bobby. So maybe he’s nearby.”

“You think Crowley just stuck him in the closest cell?”

Sam shrugged. “Anyway, I need to leave something and all I’ve got is my watch and my weapons. And I’m definitely not leaving those.” He looked around. “Okay, which way?”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “You want directions?”

“Yeah. Do you remember your way around?”

Lucifer pursed his lips. “I guess so.” He pointed. “I’m pretty sure we kept the higher-profile prisoners down thataway. Actually, you might have been right, for once. I think they’re pretty close.”

“Great,” Sam said, and they set off down the corridor.

***

Hours later, they were hopelessly lost. Sam had been able to dispatch the couple demons they’d run across with only a few scratches and bruises to show for it. But they hadn’t found Bobby.

“I can’t believe we’ve been able to wander around here for so long and only seen two demons,” Lucifer grumbled. “This place has really gone to hell during Crowley’s rule.” He smirked expectantly at Sam, who ignored him. “I miss Azazel. He knew how to run things.”

Sam glared darkly at him and Lucifer held up his hands.

“All right, all right, I know you two had your differences – ”

“Had our differences? He murdered my parents and my girlfriend!”

“It’s not like I don’t see your point,” Lucifer said. “But believe me, it’s hard to find good help. You can’t blame me for appreciating his competency.”

“I thought you said you knew where you were going,” Sam spat out.

Lucifer spread his hands. “I was trapped in the Cage! What do want from me? I saw some floor plans when we were building the place, but that was a long time ago.”

Sam was looking around, still frowning. “This looks…” He trailed off, catching sight of something. He crossed the corridor and grabbed his watch up off a ledge. “Fuck!”

“Hey, great,” Lucifer said. “We found our way back.”

“We don’t need to find our way back,” Sam said. “We need to find our way to Bobby. And now we’re almost out of time.”

“Chill out, I’m sure your grumpy, bearded second daddy is close,” Lucifer said. “We’ll just go the other way.”

Sam stomped off down the hall in the opposite direction they’d taken when they first arrived, muttering under his breath.

“This is looking more like it,” Lucifer said, as they passed a few cells with people in them. In one, they finally spotted a figure in a leather jacket and cap. Sam opened the cell door.

“They aren’t even locking him in?” Lucifer said incredulously. “What the fuck is wrong with Crowley?”

“Bobby?” Sam said aloud.

“Oh, I can tell this is going to be heartwarming,” Lucifer said. “I’m out of here.” He disappeared.

***

Sam woke up slowly, from what felt like a long way away. His mouth was dry and his head was pounding.

“Well, you look like you’ve been hit by a truck,” Lucifer observed. He was sitting backwards on a chair a few feet away from Sam’s bed.

“I feel like it,” Sam mumbled, sitting up carefully. He rubbed his eyes, fighting nausea. It passed and he swung his feet over to the floor. The movement made him dizzy and he shut his eyes till the room stopped spinning.

“This is only going to get worse, you know,” Lucifer said.

“Thanks, that’s really helpful.”

“Second of two trials. Third’s going to be a doozy, I’m betting.”

“Don’t you know?”

Lucifer shook his head.

“I really need to pee,” Sam said.

Lucifer waited. Sam didn’t move.

“If you wet the bed, I’m never going to let you forget it,” Lucifer warned him.

Sam grimaced. “I hurt too much to stand up.”

“Come on,” Lucifer urged him. “I did way worse stuff to you when we were in the Cage. You can take it.”

Sam rubbed his temples, groaning.

Lucifer sighed deeply, looking disgusted. “All right. Shove over, I’m driving.”

“Dude, you’re not going to piss for me!”

“It’s that or you piss the bed. Seriously, I won’t let ever it go. I’ll even tell Dean. You’re probably too out of it to stop me from talking to him.”

“What makes you think you’ll even feel any better than I do?”

“I have before.”

“Yeah, when I was kind of tired. This is – ”

“Let’s just give it a try,” Lucifer said impatiently. “I don’t want to sit here arguing with you all day.”

After a moment, Sam sighed, and nodded reluctantly.

Lucifer took control, and stood up carefully. The body swayed, and he grabbed the chair for support.

“Ugh, it’s even worse from here,” he muttered. After a second he released the chair and slowly started to get them dressed.

Sam had collapsed onto the bed again, eyes closed.

“Why does this even work?” he said.

“Oh, not this again.”

“Well – ”

“Look, it still hurts, Sam. It makes me feel like shit, and I’m not going to be wearing your meatsuit to run any marathons, okay? But it’s not my pain.”

“So you’re…kind of at a remove? You can ignore it better than I can, because it’s not yours. Do you think?”

“Sure, whatever.”

Sam lapsed into silence, and watched as Lucifer finished dressing them, then headed to the bathroom. After he had emptied Sam’s bladder (cringing the whole time) and brushed Sam’s teeth, they headed towards the main room.

“I’d better take over again,” Sam said.

“Yeah.” Lucifer stepped back and clapped Sam on the shoulder. “Good luck, kid.”

***

Lucifer drove frequently for the next couple weeks, taking over when Sam was alone or during long, quiet hours in the car. Eventually they discovered that if he stayed in control too long, he would start to the feel the effects of the trials. Sam would push him away, and Lucifer would pass out for a couple hours. He was fine once he got back, but Sam became reluctant to let him drive. He started saying no more often, and forcing him away after shorter periods of time.

“Seriously, Sammy, your concern is touching, but I can obviously shake this off after awhile,” Lucifer said.

“That’s not it,” Sam said. “I just don’t need you to do it so much.”

“Hey asshole, I know you’re not feeling any better,” Lucifer said. “Stop being so damn stubborn.”

Sam just shook his head.

“You’re also getting withdrawn and moody. Don’t think I don’t see it.”

“Fuck off,” Sam snapped.

Lucifer folded his arms and glared at him. “Fine. Fuck you.” He disappeared.

Sam sighed wearily.

***

Crowley sat quietly in the chair as Sam picked up the book to read the purifying incantation one last time.

“I think you should take a pause on this,” Lucifer said. “You look like death. And I mean compared to how you’ve looked the last few weeks.” He paused. “Actually, you’ve met Death, right? He generally looks a lot healthier than you do right now.”

“I’m doing this,” Sam said.

“Sam – ”

Sam read the Latin and sliced open his palm. He walked towards Crowley and was about to place his hand on him when Dean burst into the church.

“Sammy, stop!” he shouted.

Sam looked up, bewildered, as Dean approached him slowly.

“Easy there. Okay. Just take it easy. We got a slight change of plan.”

“What?” Sam demanded. “What’s going on? Where’s Cas?”

“Metatron lied. You finish this trial, you’re dead, Sam.”

“I fucking knew it,” Lucifer muttered.

Sam stared at Dean. “So?”

Lucifer whirled on him. “So? What the fuck do you mean, so?!”

“Look at him!” Sam said, pointing to Crowley. “Look at him! Look at how close we are! Other people will die if I don’t finish this!”

“You and your fucking martyr complex!” Lucifer shouted.

“Think about it,” Dean said. “Think about what we know, huh? Pulling souls from Hell, curing demons, ganking a hellhound! We have enough knowledge on our side to turn the tide here. But I can’t do it without you.”

“You can barely do it with me. I mean, you think I screw up everything I try! You think I need a chaperone, remember?”

“Come on, man,” Dean said quietly. “That’s not what I meant.”

Sam started to shake his head, but stopped suddenly. His posture changed as Lucifer took over.

“Don’t you dare get suicidal on me, you stupid fucking moose!” Lucifer shouted aloud. Dean looked confused for a split second, but understanding quickly dawned on his face.

“You are not going out like this,” Lucifer continued. “You’re not going to kill yourself on my Father’s whims. You stop this stupid trial and you stop it now.”

“Yeah, listen to Satan,” Dean said. He blinked a couple times and shook his head. “God damn it our lives are weird.” His eyes met Sam’s – Lucifer’s – and he nodded shortly. “Thanks for having my back.”

“Don’t you fucking let him do this,” Lucifer said. Dean almost smiled.

“Right back atcha.” Lucifer nodded.

Sam’s shoulders slumped as Lucifer pulled back.

Sam squeezed his hand tightly, blood dripping onto the floor. “How do I stop?” he asked.

“Just let it go,” Dean said.

“I can’t,” Sam said. “It’s in me, Dean. You don’t know what this feels like.”

“Hey, listen, we will figure it out, okay?” Dean bandaged Sam’s hand quickly. “Just like we always do. This time we’ve even got the devil on our side. Come on.”

Sam made it a few steps outside the church, but then fell to the ground by the Impala. He groaned in pain.

“Sam?” Dean said frantically. He looked up. “Cas? Castiel? Where the hell are you?”

“What’s happening?” Sam wheezed. He looked up to see Lucifer staring into the sky.

“Well,” Lucifer said. “This is…disturbingly familiar.”

Sam followed his gaze. The three of them watched the angels fall in silence.