On The Highway to Hell -2/4-
Title: On The Highway to Hell
Author: dsha2127
Rating: M
Genre/pairing: Lucifer/Sam Winchester
Characters: Sam Winchester, Luciferr, Meg(demon), Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, Rufus Turner
Summary:'Fic idea where a lonely person sells their soul to Satan t be their friend. And Satan just rolls with it until he realizes at the time of their death he genuinely likes them. Since he can't renege on the contract he takes them to Hell and puts them in a high position of power. Demos hardened by millenia of torture now have to answer to a shy, self-conscious, quiet, depressed, lonely person who has unintentionally become Satan's #1'
Warnings: Suicide, Anxiety, Self harm, PTSD
Disclaimer: Prompt by phantomrose96's tumblr
(Part 1)
After making the deal controlling his heartbeat was still a difficult task to achieve, and the fact that he was driving wasn’t helping either. But he had already spend a great amount of time in the cemetery and he needed to go to Bobby’s house or the old man was going to get worried.
Another tear fell down his cheek but Sam wiped it instantly.
He didn’t even managed to go to Rufus’s grave after the deal because he was ashamed, so ashamed. The blue label that sat on the passenger seat was a proof of how he had fucked up. Rufus had told him once about how some ghosts still lure on earth after their death because of some unfinished business; and even if Sam at the time didn’t believe, he wanted to bury the box so Rufus won’t have any to attach him and that way his soul would rest in peace.
But he had failed.
His knuckles went white against the wheel as his grip tightened. He blinked several times in an attempt to take away the tears that were starting to make his vision blur. His jaw hurt so much because of how strongly his teeth were clenched. He had also the urge to stop the car and throw up on the road, to grab the bottle in his right and smash it against the floor and then use the pieces of glass and push them against his throat. He wanted to feel the peace and relief he thought he’d feel as the blood slowly poured from his body; he’d probably have died with a smile on his face then.
But he wouldn’t do it because this was Dean’s baby. Both of them considered the impala their home. Dean would kick his ass from his grave if he found out that he died next to their home, but he’d also be pissed if he threw up inside.
He stopped the car next to the empty road, pressing the brakes with more force than necessary. He stepped outside and looked at the moon that was shinning clearly above him, looking like a smile or more like a smirk. He felt as if it were mocking at him, at his despair. ‘Stupid enough to made deal, boy?’
He sat on the dirt next to the car and took a few breaths, trying to calm the knots in his stomach before he went and grabbed the bottle. He wanted to try it, to taste what Rufus told him… but did he deserved to drink it? To try the ‘best thing’ he’d ever taste’? Did he? Knowing that if Rufus were still alive he’d spent hours trying to explain him why someone doesn’t simply sell his soul, how he screwed things up again. How many times he was going to do that?
He walked toward the bushes and started to dig another hole, laughing with tears on his eyes as he remembered the last time he did one (Just a few minutes ago).
He was so afraid of what would come next because he didn’t know how Sata- Lucifer was like. He wasn’t intrusive when he kissed him and didn’t mock at him at his fear at intimacy as he thought he’d do. Their lips only brushed briefly before he backed off and told him ‘We’re going to see each other very soon, my friend.’ and then he disappeared. Just leaving the echo of a flutter of wings while Sam tried to process what had just happened.
It surprised him when he didn’t cry, he thought he’d probably scream but instead he just fell on his knees, weak as they were after all that had happened in less than a half hour. He waited numbly in that position until he felt stronger, until his hands wouldn’t tremble anymore, until the desire of scratch his face to accept the pain as an old friend faded and he could bury his emotions again deep inside him. He then he stood, almost robotically, walked towards the car and started to drive. It wasn’t until he turned on the radio to avoid thinking and a song of Jason Walker popped up that he started to feel how everything was moving away from his grasp too quickly, too painfully.
His phone rang from the glove compartment, startling him from his task for a second before he started to move towards it, he tensed when he read Bobby’s name on the screen. He took the phone in his unsteady hands and after taking a deep breath he answered.
“Sam? Are you okay?” He asked instantly, Sam’s throat tightened at the wariness he heard in Bobby’s tone, it was as if he were talking with a baby who had a knife on his hands. It made him feel as if he were made of glass; something fragile and small. He didn’t like that.
He shocked his head and focused in the question, was he okay? He knew that he didn’t expected a ‘Yes, I feel fine’ but more something like ‘I’m still alive and I haven’t injured myself’… and he hadn’t, or at least not physically. Could Sam tell Bobby what had happened without sounding like a crazy? And how to tell him? ‘Bobby, I sold my soul and now Satan accepted to be my friend.’
“Sam?” He asked again and this time Sam just sniffed before he answered without the stronger tone he’d have liked.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m here, I’m fine.” The lie felt like a weight against his back, pushing him against the ground. Sam swallowed the tightness in his throat and held his phone with his left hand while he moved his right under his shirt, scratching the skin he found, piercing his nails into his ribs with force enough to hurt but to not leave a mark for too long. Wanting to feel somethingthat wasn’t guilt. “I’m fine.” He repeated. “I just returned from Rufus’ grave, you know?”
“And how are you feeling, son?” He heard the relief in Bobby’s voice as the man let a breath he probably didn’t know he was holding, though Sam did notice like he always did. He tried to ignore the shame and dread he felt as his hand moved up towards his armpit, scratching with a little more force the tender skin where it hurt more but wouldn’t be too noticeable.
“I feel tired.” He admitted. “I just want to go-“ home. What home? Ellen wasn’t his mother or something. “… to bed. I want to sleep” He added after a moment, hoping that Bobby won’t notice the brief pause.
“We’ll be waiting, son, just, uh, be careful. I can pick you up and f ya don’t feel like it, then I’ll read to Jo.”
“No, no. I want to do it.” He added quickly. “I want to; I look forward to it, Bobby.” To talk with someone who treated me like a normal human being, even if that someone was just five years old. They said their respective farewells after that and Sam barely managed to not throw the phone away against a rock. He hated how careful Bobby was being lately, he hadn’t heard him cursing or that ‘take no shit’ attitude that he liked from Rufus because how similar it was from Bobby’s.
But Sam wasn’t stupid or naïve, he knew that it was his fault.
He placed the blue label in the hole and buried it, hoping that maybe someday he’d have the courage to be able to share it with Rufus. After all the dirt covered the bottle and he moved some bushes on top, he wondered for a minute if this was some kind of spell too? Maybe some leprechaun would appear or something? Sam smiled briefly at the thought as he walked towards the car, taking a few more deep breaths to calm himself before he started to drive.
_ooo_
He ate the food Ellen gave him even when his stomach didn’t wanted him to, he then read to little Jo ‘Hansel and Gretel’ jumping in excitement on her bed, he tried to smile while he answered the questions she asked him, trying to ignore the entire time the little claw mark that the demon had left yesterday on his arm, the only proof he had that what it had happened in that crossroads was indeed real. He slept really late that day making sure to not cry, because he didn’t want anyone worried tomorrow in the day if they saw his puffed eyes.
He did a lot of things in the day on Sunday. He ran in the morning, helped the neighbors as always did when he was in Bobby’s, though he could see how careful they were around him; he helped in the garage with the cars like Dean had taught him, he acted as if he were enjoying himself when Ellen took him to the library and in the afternoon he gave her a hand with the bar, so he could return to bed tired and that way the desire to made the scratch bigger would disappear.
He couldn’t stop thinking that day how on Monday he’d have to return to the hospital, the place where he didn’t need to act because everyone had a problem like him, no one to judge him. He smiled against the pillow as the slumber slowly came.
“Don’t worry, son. In a few months you’ll be able to return with us.” That was the last thing Ellen told him as she kissed his cheek on the hospital doors, Bobby had his bag with books in an arm and was also giving him a smile. He felt guilty because he wanted to stay.
_ooo_
Tuesday was the first day Lucifer appeared. It happened a week after the deal while Sam took a bite of his sandwich, ignoring completely the weird mass that rested on the other plate. Sam didn’t think that the day had something especial; nothing remarkable happened that he could remember. He even had almost forgot about the deal, the mark was fading and he was starting to think of that moment in the cemetery as an hallucination caused because of Rufus’ death and his inability to cope with it.
He remember having read something similar in his psychology class, so he didn’t thought that it was something important to tell his doctor because it wouldn’t help him at all, most likely it’d end in him spending more time in this place. And even if part of him wanted to be here, there was also other part that reminded him that the money Bobby and Ellen were spending would be better in Jo’s college’s savings than in him. He just needed to complete an eight month trial period here and then he would be free, he only had to assist to every session with his doctor, eat his pills and do all the things they asked him to.
Sam already knew how he needed to act; he only needed some practice so he could start socializing with people again and luckily for him his doctor thought that it was time for him to try group sessions, considering ‘how well he had done with Rufus’. He said that he had progressed a lot and he didn’t want him to erase that progress by excluding him from others. This was a chance for him to ‘open’.
He hadn’t punched him for speaking of Rufus’ life as if it were nothing only because he was his doctor.
“That’s not a good excuse to stop, you know?” Sam jumped on his seat, startled at the sound and at the figure he thought and hoped he wouldn’t see again.
“Y-You are…”
“Lucifer. We introduced before.” He flashed a smile at him and extended his arm for a handshake.
Sam didn’t move, too stunned to try to make any movement. The Devil didn’t seem to mind, he only moved slowly his hand and place it on top of his own. Sam tried to jerk it away, surprised at the cold touch, but he found himself unable to do it, the grip didn’t tightened or use any force against him, it merely held him.
“I’m not very good with this so called ‘human mannerisms’, Sam’’ He started, crunching his nose at the word ‘humans’. “But even I know how important handshakes are for the first meetings.”
Ignoring their hands Sam looked around quickly, glad when he found the space almost empty. Chuck was in his usual corner but he seemed too engrossed in writing his story than in Sam. Lisa was talking with one of the nurses but she was too far away to even notice him. When the cold hand moved away he finally turned his attention to the being in front of him. Lucifer didn’t seem to care that Sam had ignored him; he was looking at his tray with curiosity and a hint of distaste. Did Satan even eat?
“No, I don’t need it.” He pushed a spoon to the pure, watching its consistence. “And I don’t think this even qualifies as food.”
“Were you-“ Sam swallowed his nervousness. “Were you reading my mind?”
“Is that a problem?” He tilted his head and placed his hand under his chin.
“Of course.” Sam furrowed his eyebrows but quickly amended himself when he remembered who he was talking. “I mean, could- uhm, could you please not do it?” Sam glanced down and shook his head; he couldn’t believe what he was asking. He was Satan, he frowned, or at least he thought he was Satan.
“Okay.” Sam sat upright and looked directly at him; he still had those amused eyes but the difference with Meg was that he didn’t look as if he was laughing at him, it was more like the fact that he was here was what amused him.
“Okay?”
“Yes, Sam. I said okay. I’m getting worried, you know, you keep repeating yourself.”
“Are you…” He raised an eyebrow. “Uhm, getting worried?”
“Well, no.” Sam blinked in surprise at the honesty behind the words, he unconsciously opened his mouth to ask but he shut it almost instantly, glancing down. How someone talked with the Devil? It was something really weird to think about the being in front of him as such, considering how easy it was to speak with him. Of course, it was easy once you ignored that tingle screaming behind his back that he’s going to refer as his survival instinct, but again Sam had already tried to kill himself so it must have been almost inexistent in the first place. So it was fine to ask him things?
“Ask, Sam and if I want I’ll answer.” Sam frowned.
“I thought that, uhmm…” Sam trailed off; Lucifer only waved his hand and motioned him to continue. “Were you reading my mind just now?”
“No, but you seemed nervous and I’m getting curious vibes from your soul.” My soul?
“My soul?” He repeated out loud.
“Yes, and before you ask. No, I can’t turn this off like I can with your thoughts.” Now he grabbed his jelly and started to read the label of it. He blinked several times at how surreal it was to watch him.
“Why are you telling me this?” Sam blurted, getting a little uncomfortable by his actions.
“Because you asked?” He placed down the little jelly and raised an eyebrow at him.
“Yes, Okay, I get that. That doesn’t mean that you have to, right?”
“Right.” He said the word slowly, as if he tasted the word in his mouth and by his look it seemed that he didn’t liked the sound. He looked so normal and honest when he talked, though how he really knew that he was telling the truth about not reading his thoughts or if he simply was just telling him that so Sam could let his guard down? Wasn’t he the king of lies? He didn’t remembered a lot of religious lore, he was more interested in folklore and neither Dean nor dad believed. He met Pastor Jim as little and went to mass with him, though only sometimes, and it didn’t focus in the Devil too much.
He jumped on his seat for the second time that day when he felt cold fingers touching his hand briefly; he looked upwards and saw Lucifer with two fingers still in the air. “You space out.” He explained.
“Uh, sorry.” Sam rubbed a hand against his face and saw Lucifer looking even more amused at the words. Yeah, he must not be used to people saying sorry to him. It was so odd that Sam smiled a little against his hand.
_-_
Since that day Lucifer started showing up, always in different times, three or four times a week and no more than an hour. It happened when he was alone or when there few people in the room, never when there was someone beside him. Though it wasn’t like Sam talked a lot with others either, most of times he was alone and he prefer it that way too. He grew too anxious when there were too many people in a room, he felt uncomfortable in his own skin.
He remembered the first time he went to the group session; it was before Lucifer appeared for the first time. There were five? Six people? Sam didn’t pay attention, he was too concentrated in keeping his smile and in looking polite, trying to answer the questions that were asked to him. He always did it short and preferred to be the one making questions instead, so he won’t talk too much, he only listened or fake that he did. When the nurse asked him to share Sam talked friendly and light, many years of lying to social services finally pay off (If they take you, they’ll keep you away from each other. You don’t want to do that to Dean, do you?), because the others seemed to buy it.
He started to talk with others after the sessions too, or more like the others started to talk with him. Sam’s palms were always sweaty when it happened, but it kind of helped to distract him. He focused more in what to say and how to say it than in his own thoughts, and his doctor approved how sociable he was getting. Sam never told him how his palms sweated or how he stayed up many hours on his bed thinking in different scenarios or how the small silent in conversations felt so long and heavy, almost as if it were crushing him. He only smiled at the doctor and told him how glad he was of recovering.
_-_
“Isn’t that book a little too simple for you?” Sam jumped and turned around to see Lucifer looking over his shoulder, a few inches from him.
“What are you doing here?” He whispered, the anger making him forget for a while who he really was. He stepped outside the room and looked at the hall for signs of Bobby or Ellen, he sighed in relief when he didn’t saw them.
“Visiting you, of course.” Lucifer smiled, standing behind him and looking outside too. “Isn’t that what good friends do, Sam?”
Sam braced himself and swallowed and murmured. “Yeah, I get that.”
“What are you doing?” He said, moving towards the pile of books Sam was cleaning. He grabbed one from a box and raised an eyebrow after he read the title. “Sometimes I question human creativity, you know.”
Sam smiled at the sight of Satan holding and starting to read ‘The ugly duckling’.
“That’s for kids. I’m looking for books to read to Jo.” He said quietly.
“Most of these are from when you were young.” Lucifer mentioned, reading the label with his name on the book.
“Yeah.” He was lucky that he gave the box to Bobby just before the fire. Jess thought in doing it before he and Dean decided to make their trip, and he agreed to take advantage of the space in the impala. Though they kind of forgot about them once he came to live with Bobby and Jo was still too little to read.
“May I borrow these?” Lucifer said holding a comic book from one of Dean’s boxes. Sam didn’t want to ask ‘Why?’, but he really was close to do it; luckily for him Lucifer noticed the silent question. “I’m in here.”
“Are you?”
“I’m curious to see how you humans characterize me, that’s all.” Sam bit his lip as he walked towards Lucifer, always wary. He looked at the comic book’ title and was surprised when he read ‘Lucifer’ in the cover, showing a blonde man in a suit. It was strange the accurate description.
“You’ve your own comic book?” Sam slowly asked.
“I’ve appeared in many other forms too, this looks promising though.” Sam glanced at the other comics and noticed for the first time how the others had some sort of transparent cover protecting them from dust, but the one in Lucifer’s hand was bare.
“You took the cover off?” Sam frowned, trying to use the height advantage he had on him, but Lucifer only looked even more amused at his attitude. He felt anger coiling in his stomach; he knew how much Dean took care of his comics. He always hid them behind their mattresses when dad came home because he thought that it was lost money, but Dean never asked money from him. He always found little jobs and used the money for food when dad didn’t left enough or bought clothes for him, it was only when he had a few extra coins that he used them to buy the things he liked. He remembered how close to tears Dean was when his dad found out for the first time and throw them to the trash can. He didn’t move to save them, but Sam had managed to save a few ones after dad left.
“If you’re worried that I’m going to dirt them, then you should remember who I’m.” Actually, that was the problem, Sam just wanted to take them away from Lucifer but he saw that Lucifer was truly curious and he had never seen him like that in all the month he had got to know him.
He sighed. Dean had taught him to share, but he wondered if it was okay to lend his things to Satan.
“Okay.” He said, Lucifer smiled and Sam thought that maybe he had done something good after all.
_ooo_
“And, uhm, how is Hell?” Sam asked once while the commercials were on, they were watching a Disney movie about toys that were alive and Lucifer seemed to enjoy it, considering how he didn’t ask too many questions.
“Anxious to know how your future home will be like?” Sam tried to not flinch, but he saw the little smirk on Lucifer’s face so that meant that he had failed in hiding it. A thing he had learned about Lucifer is that he didn’t apologized so Sam didn’t expect that from him. “You want to know what will happen to you? Sorry, but no spoilers.”
Sam snorted. “Where did you even learnt that word?”
He went still and clenched his fists in fear involuntarily when the final words left his mouth as he felt something cold brushing at his shoulder and glanced down. The cold brush was gone but the sensation didn’t leave his body immediately, instead it seemed to go through his body. He shuddered. He could hear the sound of the TV in the background but it was more like a faint noise, he could hear clearer his mind yelling ‘Don’t forget that he’s the Devil!’
Sam took a deep breath and glanced at his left warily. Lucifer wasn’t watching him; he was still seated next to him on the couch in his pristine white suit with his attention on the TV, though that didn’t mean that he was ignoring Sam if his satisfied grin didn’t serve as proof enough. Sam let a breath he was holding and from his peripheral vision saw how his companion turned his head.
“I was just curious.” Sam murmured as an apology and placed his legs against his chest. He stayed quiet after that, just watching the movie without paying too much attention. He couldn’t avoid how that little retort he made reminded him of a memory with Dean, it happened when he was doing his homework on the couch next to his brother while he watched the TV. He couldn’t remember what word Dean had used that moment, he only recalled the surprise he felt. His brother blushed and scowled at him, trying to sound offended as he ruffled his hair and said ‘What? I can’t know fancy words or something, bitch?’
‘Jerk’ Sam thought, answering at the Dean of his memory, smiling sadly against his arm. He missed his brother too much. He didn’t knew how he’d have survived without him those years after Dad died, they were lucky that Dean had enough age for the social services to not intervene and Bobby was willing to helped them. But because of him Dean had to work, if he hadn’t told him a year before the accident that he wanted to go to Stanford maybe Dean wouldn’t have worked so many hours to pay for his studies. His brother was sure that he was able to enter college with the grades he had.
They went to a bar to celebrate the day he got the acceptance letter, all paid, though that didn’t mean that the books were free; he tasted his first beer that time. And then the grade in his SAT was good enough to get him a scholarship in Stanford too. Dean came to California the weekend before his interview to help him to calm down. Jess thought it was a good idea. Jess was his girlfriend, he was going to ask her to marry him the day after his interview; Dean whistled when he saw the ring and smiled at him proudly. They slept in a motel because he thought that driving drunk wasn’t a good idea, considering what had happened to their dad. Though, that was his fault too.
“I have what you humans would call a secretary, though he’ll be more like one of my generals.” Sam’s head snapped to attention and turned to look Lucifer with widened eyes. “I don’t have a second hand in command because demons tend to be cunning, they’re only interested in obtain more power.”
Lucifer crunched his nose in disgust. “It wouldn’t surprise me if some were trying to search for a way to back stabbing me, so they could get the crown of Hell for themselves.”
“What-?”
“Anyway, my secretary goes for the name of Crowley. I catch him a few days ago making deals without giving all the necessary forms for that.” Forms? “He was keeping the souls for himself, so I got his tailor eaten by my hellhounds and they munched him a bit, a fine show indeed.”
“Are you trying to cheer me up?” Sam asked after a few moments of silence.
“Is it working?” Lucifer’s expression was of boredom but after years of looking at his face in the mirror, trying to learn how to hide his emotions he was an expert to see in others what they were trying to hide, and he saw a hint of curiosity in Lucifer’s eyes. Though it was like he wasn’t trying to hide it and more like, it was just something small.
“Why?”
“I can’t enjoy this movie with you moping next to me.” Sam snorted but he saw that it was true. “I can see and feel your soul, Sam. If I wanted to see more souls lamenting then I’d have stayed in Hell.”
“You’re in a mental ward, believe me, here you won’t find happy people.”
“It’s not like I enjoy being around humans.” He said glancing around. “But it’s fun to watch some of them struggling to fit, trying to fix themselves. Their hope makes it fun; there isn’t that kind of hope in Hell.”
“So I’m just fun for you?” Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised that it didn’t even bothered him what Lucifer said, though lately there was just a few things that he cared about. And he always wondered why Lucifer was doing this, visiting him when he could do whatever he wanted.
“Most of the time, yes.” Lucifer nodded. “When you’re not moping.”
“So… you like me?”
“I wouldn’t call it that, more like I can stand you.” Lucifer smiled at him like what he just said was the best compliment ever. Maybe it was considering how much he kept saying how he didn’t like humans. Sam tried to return the smile, but Lucifer just waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t even try it’s sad to watch you smile.”
“For the father of lies you’re way too honest.” He crossed his arms against his chest and puffed a little. He didn’t even care if what he said had offended him, he had tried to smile at the Devil he should at least appreciate that.
“Who knew that the boy had some attitude?” Sam flinched a little but didn’t apologize. “And so you know, I don’t lie.”
“Really?” Sam now turned his head completely and gave him his best incredulous face.
“Sometimes the truth can hurt more than lies, you know. I always say the truth some don’t wish to acknowledge, but they keep claiming that they’re lies.”
“So you’re telling me that you’ve never lied?”
“I may have twisted some truths to my benefit.” Sam chuckled when he saw how Lucifer was inspecting his hands with a pleased smile; he wondered what he was remembering. He opened his mouth to reply and keep asking questions now that Lucifer seemed to be in a good mood, but he heard someone calling him from behind. He looked over his shoulder and saw a nurse holding a tray with meds on the door. It was late so he couldn’t see his face, only his silhouette.
“It’s time for you to take your pills, Sam.” Sam turned quickly at the seat next to him, but didn’t found Lucifer there. He sighed in relief; he didn’t want to explain how a non-patient was in there.
“Thanks, Roger.”
He stood up and left the room, he didn’t bother in turn off the TV in case Lucifer returned. While drink his cup of water after taking his pills he shuddered thinking in how easy it was turning to talk with Lucifer, he wasn’t the kind of guy (He didn’t even was a guy) someone would want to be friends with. But he had already made the deal, he couldn’t back off now.
_-_
Lucifer wasn’t what Sam thought he would be, for starts he was less terrifying. He had never saw him displaying power or killing someone, though that didn’t mean that Sam didn’t know how powerful he was. You could almost feel the power in the air just by being close to him. When he got annoyed, it was a little hard to breath but Sam knew that he did it unconsciously. Lucifer was more like a regular CEO, often complaining about how stupid his employees were.
“But didn’t you create them or something?”
“Just the first ones and they’re smarter.” This time Lucifer was on top of his shelf, reading one of his books while Sam tried to sleep. It was weird to think about how quickly his friendship(?) developed.
“Uhm, the first ones?”
“You’re repeating my answers again, Sam.” He glanced at him from the book raising an eyebrow.
“Sorry, I mean, how even demons are born? Because from what you told me I can infer that there are a lot.” Lucifer closed the book and placed the object on his lap; he placed the palm of his hand under his chin, tilting his head while he looked as if he were in deep thought. “Is something I’m not supposed to know?”
“Not necessarily.” Sam sat on his bed and watched Lucifer in expectation, but he didn’t continue.
“Uhm, Luci-”
“Story time then, Sammy!” Sam swallowed his retort at the nickname, surprised at the tone he had used, instead he focused in what Lucifer would say. He felt his curiosity prickle for the first time in months when he started talking; his words held a power that just engrossed Sam into paying more attention. Lucifer’s voice was smooth an almost hypnotic when he wanted to made a point across, he had also a manner of speaking that made you able to picture clearly everything he said. That was why he felt even sicker when he started explaining how demons were truly born, how the human soul decayed to that level.
Sam knew that Lucifer wasn’t lying or just telling him that to terrify him about what would happen in ten years because of how he stopped talking when his chest felt too tight and the urge to throw up grew to uncomfortable levels. He just waited for Sam to take a few deep breaths before raising an eyebrow and asking: “Want me to continue?”
Lucifer left after he finished telling him how time and torture worked in Hell, saying that he had to reschedule some things. Sam thought for a moment that he probably wanted to give him some space, but he pushed that thought away, concentrating instead in not biting the inside of his cheek with too much force. The thought about how even if he hadn’t sold his soul he was designated to Hell didn’t help him to relax.
He just lay on the bed in a fetal position, tucking his hands between his tights, trying to not glance to the pencil in front of him that he managed to hide in his book from his group session. He just wanted to write some stuff down and took it; he hadn’t realized before how easy would be to press it against his skin. But this time he didn’t want to kill himself, he just needed some proof that he was alive and the pain usually helped. He moved far away, curling into a ball in the corner with his back touching the wall.
Lucifer appeared an hour after he left next to him with the same book he was previously reading on his lap; the lack of light didn’t seem to bother him. He sighed in relief because with Lucifer body seating next to him he wasn’t able to see the pencil. Sam didn’t look away from Lucifer’s face as he moved closer to his cold body; the only indication that he was scared was the shallow breaths of his labored respiration.
Lucifer didn’t do anything when his face brushed the soft material of his suit, nor when he finally closed his eyes. He just kept reading in silence, too quickly for a normal human to understand. Sam slept with the sound of turning pages as a lullaby and the power Lucifer emanated as a blanked, afraid that this comfort was a dream and that he’d need to wake up soon. He also thought that the cool hand he felt brushing on his hair while he drifted into sleep was just part of his imagination too.
_ooo_
It was in the seventh month (almost three months after Rufus’ death) that his doctor told him that he was going to change his meds. It scared him greatly when it happened, because he only took antidepressants and the sleep pills sometimes, though he had only taken the second ones the first month and after that just when he couldn’t sleep and asked his doctor first. The dose of the antidepressants was also reduced to the minimum after the second month, though they increased the dose the first two weeks after Rufus’ death. It was obvious that the doctor tried to be gentle about the subject and that was what scared him even more.
He had tried to act normal; he had done what everyone in his sane mind would do. The entire time. Was his act that easy to look through?
Sam looked down and ran both hands through his hair, leaning both elbows on his knees. He took a shaky breath before glancing at the doctor, remembering that he needed to keep his act together a little more time. If he could, he shouldn’t be scowling at himself at the moment; he was losing it in front of the most important man. The one that held his freedom.
“If I’m allowed to ask, Dr. Simigh. Why are you increasing my, uhm…” Sam deflated as he talked, even with all the practice he got from his session group, it was still hard to talk. And it was worse when the conversation drained him emotionally.
“Sam.” He felt a gentle touch on the hand that wasn’t supporting his head’s weight. The smile he found in his doctor when he glanced at him was supposed to be comforting, but Sam could see the condescending hint in his eyes too. He tried to return the smile, instead of snarling like he wanted to. “You’ve been sleeping four hours per day, that’s why I’m reestablishing your sleep pills again. It’s important that you sleep.”
“And the antipsychotics?”
“It’s for prevention mostly, Sam.” He took his hand away. “I know you want to return with your family after your trial period here, and I’ve seen how much have you progressed from your first weeks. It’s just a mild dose.”
“Have you…” He started. “Have you told Bobby and Ellen about this?”
“Not yet.” He said and looked to the small notebook with his notes. “I’m going to give you generic pills. I just want to confirm something, but it may be just your restlessness causing it, Sam.”
“But you will?” Sam pleaded, his tone made the doctor look at him.
“I have to; you need to stay here until I see that it’s working.”
He then gave him his pills and he was lucky of how tired they left him almost immediately, because he didn’t like to think in what he’d have done if he had the energy to do anything. His mind was too weary to even think as he walked towards his bed.
_ooo_
“I swear that demons can be really stupid, sometimes I just want to feed them to my hellhounds and get everything over.” Lucifer said appearing on the chair next to his bed.
“Your hellhounds?” Sam yawned, rubbing his eyes and feeling a little more confused than usual.
“What’s wrong with you?” He asked when Sam tried to stand up but his head was too heavy to even try to move it.
“Sleeping pills. They make me dizzy.”
“Yes, I can see that, but why are you taking them?” Sam moved the arm that currently shielded his eyes towards the back of his head, and he saw that the curiosity in Lucifer was honest.
“Because I need to sleep?” He almost face palmed at the stupid answer he gave, Lucifer’s face was clearly saying ‘No shit, Sherlock’. He blamed the pills. “I mean, a person needs to sleep because it can affect negatively the brain if they don’t do it. Eight hours is the correct time that one needs to-”
“I know what the human body needs, Sam. I was asking why you are taking them.” At Sam’s dumbfounded expression he sighed and continued. “You’re already used to sleep little; your body is used to four, five hours.”
Sam slowly turned and blinked owlishly at him, he probably was giving Lucifer some weird look, as if he just had told Sam the meaning of life or something of the same degree because his friend had that sparkle of amusement in his eyes that he often saw when he had done something Lucifer considered funny.
Had he just called Lucifer, the Devil, his friend? Sam tried to remember what he had thought a second ago and snorted when he realized that yes, he had done that. And again, he blamed the pills.
“Do I want to ask why are you making that weird sound?”
“You’re Satan.” Sam managed to answer, as he sat on the bed, laughing at his odd situation. His laugh grew a little more when he saw the surprise expression Lucifer had. His mind always felt light the first moments he woke after taking sleep pills but never like this. He didn’t know if it was because the other pills or just Lucifer, but even so, it had passed more than a year without him laughing and he kind of missed to do it.
He looked upwards when he felt cold fingers brushing his jaw and noticed that Lucifer’s face was a few inches away from his own, he hadn’t move away immediately mostly because Sam’s brain still couldn’t process too fast. He blinked and tried to swallow his nervousness but his mouth felt too dry. Sam remembered for a second the first time he saw him, the power that his eyes possessed hadn’t diminished at all, it still had the ability to pin him down.
Sam saw that Lucifer’s eyes had that silver flash that he sometimes could saw when the light surrounded Lucifer’s body, it was a peculiar hint that Sam had always found strange to see in the devil, and he always tried to ignore how it made Lucifer’s usual icy blue eyes glow; though it was harder to ignore it while being at this distance. Sam’s eyes flicked unconsciously between his eyes and lips and he then felt a soft blush that creep into his cheeks when he noticed what he had done, but Lucifer didn’t seem to mind, not even when Sam’s mouth parted when he tilted his head.
“What a peculiar thing you are.” He said, eyebrows slightly furrowing. He smirked as he slowly backed off.
“I’m hungry.” Sam blurted and stood up too quickly, he stumbled on his feet but Lucifer managed to catch him from his arm. Sam shivered at the contrast of his warm body to Lucifer’s usual cold skin. He didn’t turn to look at him and kept walking, ignoring the strange looks he got in the hall and how fast his chest pounded.
_ooo_
“You should try it.” Sam said gesturing at his pudding. “It’s the only good thing they serve.”
“Then why would you offer it to me?”
“Because you’ve never tried any food and that’s the only good thing I had at the moment that would probably change your mind.”
“You want to change my mind?” Lucifer asked clearly amused, Sam felt his cheeks warming but kept moving the little package in his direction.
“It won’t kill you.” Sam stopped pushing the pudding in his direction and raised an eyebrow. “Or will it?”
“Yes, Sam. You found my true weakness.” He said sardonically, grabbing the spoon from his bowl with mashed potatoes, pointing it at him. “Pudding.”
Sam laughed and accidentally pushed the pudding with too much force, making it fell from the table. Douche.
“I just felt that you insulted me.” Sam sat upright and looked directly at Lucifer, pudding forgotten.
“Were you reading my mind?”
“So you were! And no, I told you before that I wouldn’t do it.”
“But why?” Sam frowned and this time he asked with more conviction than the first time. The last time he didn’t felt too comfortable and was scared of what Lucifer would do to him, but now that they had some sort of friendship he was more confident.
“We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“I don’t like how you stretch the word that way, and you’ve to admit that we weren’t before.” Lucifer slowly leaned on his chair with a big smirk on his face, waving around the little spoon. Sam could hear his heartbeat pounding on his ears as he tried to not blush.
“So we’re now?”
“I’m serious.” Sam said, looking away.
“I respect consent, you know.”
“You do?” He asked, surprised at the tone Lucifer had used. It had the kind of power his words always held, but there was something different this time too.
“Of course, it’s part of my nature.” Well, now that he thought about (And he didn’t want to), he was pretty sure that if that demon could grab his soul and get away with it, she’d have done it; instead she needed him to accept the deal. Perhaps it was part of their nature after all.
He scratched the back of his neck; feeling that he was forgetting something. “I’ve to admit that I never thought that consent was something important to demons.”
“Demons don’t need consent, Sam.” Lucifer’s tone was hard and Sam couldn’t avoid not looking at him.
“But that demon, Meg, needed my consent to-“
“Deals are different. Is your soul what we’re bargaining, after all.” Lucifer didn’t give him the chance to finish his sentence, Sam noticed how annoyed he was getting and couldn’t ignore how his mind clouded in guilt as he looked down.
“Then why did you tell me that-“
“Hello. I’m sorry but I think this is yours?” Sam jumped in surprise and looked at his left, noticing for the first time the woman in nurse uniform that stood there with a sealed pudding in her hand. Sam hadn’t seen that nurse before; he frowned and grabbed the package. “Uh, thanks…?”
“Magdolna. I’m an intern here.”
“Oh. Well, thanks then, Magdolna.” He repeated the strange name. She glanced at his table and pursed her lips, he was going to ask her what was wrong but she talked first.
“You don’t have a spoon.” She said. “Do you wish me to bring you one? Is not a problem.”
Sam blinked at her and frowned, finally looking at his table. He was surprised when he found Lucifer’s pissed eyes in front of him with his spoon in his hand.
“I have it.” He said. Sam looked between the nurse and Lucifer. It was obvious that she hadn’t heard him.
“I- I, uh. Don’t worry.” He took a deep breath and glanced away. “I need to stand up and go for my pills anyway.”
“Okay. See you later.” Sam waited until she was a few feet away before he leaned on the table and grabbed his head between his hands, scratching his scalp with his short nails. He hated that they had to always cut his nails. He hated that so much in that precise moment.
‘You need to stay here until I see that it’s working.’ The words echoed in his head.
“Sam?” Lucifer asked him, but he couldn’t look at him. He stood up and went to his room, never glancing back. His muscles felt too tense and he needed to do something, anything, to calm himself. He scratched his arm with all the force he could muster as he walked and when he reached his room he entered quickly not forgetting to close the door behind him.
He breathed heavily and too fast for his liking. It felt like drowning; he blinked the tears away as he searched for his notebook. His hands were trembling too hard that he threw it to the floor accidentally when he found it, but he didn’t gave it too much attention, he just sat there and grabbed the pencil from the floor and held it in the air as he pushed his shirt off; he slammed the tip on his skin the same time he heard the flutter that he always heard before Lucifer appeared.
“Sam!” Lucifer knelt in front of him and grabbed his right arm, stopping him from moving the pencil. “What’s wrong with-“
Sam didn’t let him finish, he used his left hand to punch him in the face. He moved away but Sam’s knuckles still brushed his chin, he heard how the bone broke and pressed his injured hand on his chest. Lucifer touched gently his hand and healed him, ignoring the sob Sam made at the lost of pain. He held both his hands and pressed them against his chest, squeezing Sam into a hug that was really hard to get away. It felt like there was a metal rope that around him, making it impossible to move.
He finally stopped struggling when he felt how something not entirely liquid washed over him; it was like the sun rays in those warm days and the contrast between Lucifer’s skin and the light that seemed to engulf him was amazing and calming. He relaxed in Lucifer’s arms and felt how he moved his left hand to his side and healed that injury too, throwing the pencil away. Sam let a watery laugh against the white suit where he was pressing his face; that little display of power was proof enough for him that Lucifer was real. He moved his head until it rested in the crook of Lucifer’s neck, wanting to feel something cold against his forehead.
“Sam?” He asked, his tone uncharacteristically worried.
“They think I’m having hallucinations.” He replied between sobs. “They must have seen me talking with you and thinking that I- I… I haven’t talked with Ellen or Bobby about it, but I know that they know. That I need to stay more time here.”
Lucifer didn’t say anything, but he felt how he tensed. It was the first time Sam realized that this wasn’t his body, no one could be this still, it felt like a statue was hugging him and it didn’t help that he didn’t said anything. Sam slowly grew uneasy in the silent, it felt too heavy.
He started pressing his nails against his palm, more of a nervous habit than with the intention of hurting himself. The urge he felt of causing himself pain had faded, it felt numb inside him that he thought it may be Lucifer’s influence, because this calm felt too unnatural. Lucifer sat upright, backing off a little and grabbed his fingers to stop them from scratching his palms. He looked at him in the eye and seemed a little nervous as he opened his mouth.
“I want to make another deal.” Sam blurted, tears still in falling from his eyes. “Erase the memory of me from others and you can take my soul down to Hell. Immediately. Bobby, Ellen, J-“
Lucifer covered his mouth with his right hand.
“I said that if I wanted to be around moping people I’d have stayed in Hell, Sam.” He sighed. “Could you let me finish what I want to say?”
Lucifer waited for him to do something, so he nodded.
“First of all, I’m an angel. A fallen one, but still an angel. I’m surprised that you didn’t knew that, actually.” He said while he settled Sam’s shirt on its place. “And second, I apologize for the problems I’ve caused you.”
Sam’s eyes widened at the words. He blinked several times and thought for a moment if this was a dream.
“Don’t act so surprised…” He trailed off, tilting his head with a strange shade of mirth dancing in his eyes. “We aren't that close that I would want to flatter you much. Your healing psyche might not be able to take it.”
Sam snorted and Lucifer finally took his hand away frowning at his palm covered in…
“Oh, sorry!” He tried to stand up and search for something to clean but Lucifer grabbed his arm to stop him. He looked at him and saw how he waved his hand and all the fluids that were once there simply disappeared, the wet spots on his suit that Sam had also stained with his tears were gone too.
“Woah.” Sam blinked and touched his face, feeling his skin dry and clean, he couldn’t even feel the stubble he had since two days ago. He moved his hands to his eyebrows and-
“I still left your eyebrows.” Lucifer sounded a little offended, and then he slowly added. “And your hair.”
Sam smiled at him and mouthed a ‘thanks’. Lucifer smirked at him and waited for Sam to sit correctly in front of him, gesturing the spot with his hand.
“The deal still stands.” Sam said once he sat.
“I don’t want it. You already made a deal with me, Sam. And I’ll make sure that no other demon tries to make a deal with you.” Lucifer leaned too close for Sam’s comfort. “Your soul already belongs to me.”
Sam cleared his throat and tried to not make eye contact with him, looking everywhere instead, but Lucifer’s stare felt more like a physical touch brushing at his cheek. Incapable of ignore it he glanced at him from the corner of his eye and saw how his smile widened with every movement Sam made, leaning involuntarily towards him.
“So…” Sam licked his lips.
“Ten years, that was the deal.” He shivered at the contact of Lucifer’s cool breath on his skin, but he suddenly moved his head to the right and looked down. He frowned before looking at him again. “Would you promise me to be good for a while?”
“What?”
“Demons.” He crunched his nose at the word, still looking down; it was as if he was seeing something on the floor, something that had personally offended him.
“Lucif-?” He disappeared before he finished the word; Sam looked around and sighed when he noticed that he wasn’t going to return anytime soon. He pressed his head against his legs when the realization of what had happened crushed him.
He rubbed his face and was ready to stand, finish his food and maybe have a panic attack later when he noticed that there was a crayon on the place where his pencil had fell.
“Very funny.” He said as he grabbed the white crayon in his hands.
Author: dsha2127
Rating: M
Genre/pairing: Lucifer/Sam Winchester
Characters: Sam Winchester, Luciferr, Meg(demon), Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, Rufus Turner
Summary:'Fic idea where a lonely person sells their soul to Satan t be their friend. And Satan just rolls with it until he realizes at the time of their death he genuinely likes them. Since he can't renege on the contract he takes them to Hell and puts them in a high position of power. Demos hardened by millenia of torture now have to answer to a shy, self-conscious, quiet, depressed, lonely person who has unintentionally become Satan's #1'
Warnings: Suicide, Anxiety, Self harm, PTSD
Disclaimer: Prompt by phantomrose96's tumblr
(Part 1)
After making the deal controlling his heartbeat was still a difficult task to achieve, and the fact that he was driving wasn’t helping either. But he had already spend a great amount of time in the cemetery and he needed to go to Bobby’s house or the old man was going to get worried.
Another tear fell down his cheek but Sam wiped it instantly.
He didn’t even managed to go to Rufus’s grave after the deal because he was ashamed, so ashamed. The blue label that sat on the passenger seat was a proof of how he had fucked up. Rufus had told him once about how some ghosts still lure on earth after their death because of some unfinished business; and even if Sam at the time didn’t believe, he wanted to bury the box so Rufus won’t have any to attach him and that way his soul would rest in peace.
But he had failed.
His knuckles went white against the wheel as his grip tightened. He blinked several times in an attempt to take away the tears that were starting to make his vision blur. His jaw hurt so much because of how strongly his teeth were clenched. He had also the urge to stop the car and throw up on the road, to grab the bottle in his right and smash it against the floor and then use the pieces of glass and push them against his throat. He wanted to feel the peace and relief he thought he’d feel as the blood slowly poured from his body; he’d probably have died with a smile on his face then.
But he wouldn’t do it because this was Dean’s baby. Both of them considered the impala their home. Dean would kick his ass from his grave if he found out that he died next to their home, but he’d also be pissed if he threw up inside.
He stopped the car next to the empty road, pressing the brakes with more force than necessary. He stepped outside and looked at the moon that was shinning clearly above him, looking like a smile or more like a smirk. He felt as if it were mocking at him, at his despair. ‘Stupid enough to made deal, boy?’
He sat on the dirt next to the car and took a few breaths, trying to calm the knots in his stomach before he went and grabbed the bottle. He wanted to try it, to taste what Rufus told him… but did he deserved to drink it? To try the ‘best thing’ he’d ever taste’? Did he? Knowing that if Rufus were still alive he’d spent hours trying to explain him why someone doesn’t simply sell his soul, how he screwed things up again. How many times he was going to do that?
He walked toward the bushes and started to dig another hole, laughing with tears on his eyes as he remembered the last time he did one (Just a few minutes ago).
He was so afraid of what would come next because he didn’t know how Sata- Lucifer was like. He wasn’t intrusive when he kissed him and didn’t mock at him at his fear at intimacy as he thought he’d do. Their lips only brushed briefly before he backed off and told him ‘We’re going to see each other very soon, my friend.’ and then he disappeared. Just leaving the echo of a flutter of wings while Sam tried to process what had just happened.
It surprised him when he didn’t cry, he thought he’d probably scream but instead he just fell on his knees, weak as they were after all that had happened in less than a half hour. He waited numbly in that position until he felt stronger, until his hands wouldn’t tremble anymore, until the desire of scratch his face to accept the pain as an old friend faded and he could bury his emotions again deep inside him. He then he stood, almost robotically, walked towards the car and started to drive. It wasn’t until he turned on the radio to avoid thinking and a song of Jason Walker popped up that he started to feel how everything was moving away from his grasp too quickly, too painfully.
His phone rang from the glove compartment, startling him from his task for a second before he started to move towards it, he tensed when he read Bobby’s name on the screen. He took the phone in his unsteady hands and after taking a deep breath he answered.
“Sam? Are you okay?” He asked instantly, Sam’s throat tightened at the wariness he heard in Bobby’s tone, it was as if he were talking with a baby who had a knife on his hands. It made him feel as if he were made of glass; something fragile and small. He didn’t like that.
He shocked his head and focused in the question, was he okay? He knew that he didn’t expected a ‘Yes, I feel fine’ but more something like ‘I’m still alive and I haven’t injured myself’… and he hadn’t, or at least not physically. Could Sam tell Bobby what had happened without sounding like a crazy? And how to tell him? ‘Bobby, I sold my soul and now Satan accepted to be my friend.’
“Sam?” He asked again and this time Sam just sniffed before he answered without the stronger tone he’d have liked.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m here, I’m fine.” The lie felt like a weight against his back, pushing him against the ground. Sam swallowed the tightness in his throat and held his phone with his left hand while he moved his right under his shirt, scratching the skin he found, piercing his nails into his ribs with force enough to hurt but to not leave a mark for too long. Wanting to feel somethingthat wasn’t guilt. “I’m fine.” He repeated. “I just returned from Rufus’ grave, you know?”
“And how are you feeling, son?” He heard the relief in Bobby’s voice as the man let a breath he probably didn’t know he was holding, though Sam did notice like he always did. He tried to ignore the shame and dread he felt as his hand moved up towards his armpit, scratching with a little more force the tender skin where it hurt more but wouldn’t be too noticeable.
“I feel tired.” He admitted. “I just want to go-“ home. What home? Ellen wasn’t his mother or something. “… to bed. I want to sleep” He added after a moment, hoping that Bobby won’t notice the brief pause.
“We’ll be waiting, son, just, uh, be careful. I can pick you up and f ya don’t feel like it, then I’ll read to Jo.”
“No, no. I want to do it.” He added quickly. “I want to; I look forward to it, Bobby.” To talk with someone who treated me like a normal human being, even if that someone was just five years old. They said their respective farewells after that and Sam barely managed to not throw the phone away against a rock. He hated how careful Bobby was being lately, he hadn’t heard him cursing or that ‘take no shit’ attitude that he liked from Rufus because how similar it was from Bobby’s.
But Sam wasn’t stupid or naïve, he knew that it was his fault.
He placed the blue label in the hole and buried it, hoping that maybe someday he’d have the courage to be able to share it with Rufus. After all the dirt covered the bottle and he moved some bushes on top, he wondered for a minute if this was some kind of spell too? Maybe some leprechaun would appear or something? Sam smiled briefly at the thought as he walked towards the car, taking a few more deep breaths to calm himself before he started to drive.
_ooo_
He ate the food Ellen gave him even when his stomach didn’t wanted him to, he then read to little Jo ‘Hansel and Gretel’ jumping in excitement on her bed, he tried to smile while he answered the questions she asked him, trying to ignore the entire time the little claw mark that the demon had left yesterday on his arm, the only proof he had that what it had happened in that crossroads was indeed real. He slept really late that day making sure to not cry, because he didn’t want anyone worried tomorrow in the day if they saw his puffed eyes.
He did a lot of things in the day on Sunday. He ran in the morning, helped the neighbors as always did when he was in Bobby’s, though he could see how careful they were around him; he helped in the garage with the cars like Dean had taught him, he acted as if he were enjoying himself when Ellen took him to the library and in the afternoon he gave her a hand with the bar, so he could return to bed tired and that way the desire to made the scratch bigger would disappear.
He couldn’t stop thinking that day how on Monday he’d have to return to the hospital, the place where he didn’t need to act because everyone had a problem like him, no one to judge him. He smiled against the pillow as the slumber slowly came.
“Don’t worry, son. In a few months you’ll be able to return with us.” That was the last thing Ellen told him as she kissed his cheek on the hospital doors, Bobby had his bag with books in an arm and was also giving him a smile. He felt guilty because he wanted to stay.
_ooo_
Tuesday was the first day Lucifer appeared. It happened a week after the deal while Sam took a bite of his sandwich, ignoring completely the weird mass that rested on the other plate. Sam didn’t think that the day had something especial; nothing remarkable happened that he could remember. He even had almost forgot about the deal, the mark was fading and he was starting to think of that moment in the cemetery as an hallucination caused because of Rufus’ death and his inability to cope with it.
He remember having read something similar in his psychology class, so he didn’t thought that it was something important to tell his doctor because it wouldn’t help him at all, most likely it’d end in him spending more time in this place. And even if part of him wanted to be here, there was also other part that reminded him that the money Bobby and Ellen were spending would be better in Jo’s college’s savings than in him. He just needed to complete an eight month trial period here and then he would be free, he only had to assist to every session with his doctor, eat his pills and do all the things they asked him to.
Sam already knew how he needed to act; he only needed some practice so he could start socializing with people again and luckily for him his doctor thought that it was time for him to try group sessions, considering ‘how well he had done with Rufus’. He said that he had progressed a lot and he didn’t want him to erase that progress by excluding him from others. This was a chance for him to ‘open’.
He hadn’t punched him for speaking of Rufus’ life as if it were nothing only because he was his doctor.
“That’s not a good excuse to stop, you know?” Sam jumped on his seat, startled at the sound and at the figure he thought and hoped he wouldn’t see again.
“Y-You are…”
“Lucifer. We introduced before.” He flashed a smile at him and extended his arm for a handshake.
Sam didn’t move, too stunned to try to make any movement. The Devil didn’t seem to mind, he only moved slowly his hand and place it on top of his own. Sam tried to jerk it away, surprised at the cold touch, but he found himself unable to do it, the grip didn’t tightened or use any force against him, it merely held him.
“I’m not very good with this so called ‘human mannerisms’, Sam’’ He started, crunching his nose at the word ‘humans’. “But even I know how important handshakes are for the first meetings.”
Ignoring their hands Sam looked around quickly, glad when he found the space almost empty. Chuck was in his usual corner but he seemed too engrossed in writing his story than in Sam. Lisa was talking with one of the nurses but she was too far away to even notice him. When the cold hand moved away he finally turned his attention to the being in front of him. Lucifer didn’t seem to care that Sam had ignored him; he was looking at his tray with curiosity and a hint of distaste. Did Satan even eat?
“No, I don’t need it.” He pushed a spoon to the pure, watching its consistence. “And I don’t think this even qualifies as food.”
“Were you-“ Sam swallowed his nervousness. “Were you reading my mind?”
“Is that a problem?” He tilted his head and placed his hand under his chin.
“Of course.” Sam furrowed his eyebrows but quickly amended himself when he remembered who he was talking. “I mean, could- uhm, could you please not do it?” Sam glanced down and shook his head; he couldn’t believe what he was asking. He was Satan, he frowned, or at least he thought he was Satan.
“Okay.” Sam sat upright and looked directly at him; he still had those amused eyes but the difference with Meg was that he didn’t look as if he was laughing at him, it was more like the fact that he was here was what amused him.
“Okay?”
“Yes, Sam. I said okay. I’m getting worried, you know, you keep repeating yourself.”
“Are you…” He raised an eyebrow. “Uhm, getting worried?”
“Well, no.” Sam blinked in surprise at the honesty behind the words, he unconsciously opened his mouth to ask but he shut it almost instantly, glancing down. How someone talked with the Devil? It was something really weird to think about the being in front of him as such, considering how easy it was to speak with him. Of course, it was easy once you ignored that tingle screaming behind his back that he’s going to refer as his survival instinct, but again Sam had already tried to kill himself so it must have been almost inexistent in the first place. So it was fine to ask him things?
“Ask, Sam and if I want I’ll answer.” Sam frowned.
“I thought that, uhmm…” Sam trailed off; Lucifer only waved his hand and motioned him to continue. “Were you reading my mind just now?”
“No, but you seemed nervous and I’m getting curious vibes from your soul.” My soul?
“My soul?” He repeated out loud.
“Yes, and before you ask. No, I can’t turn this off like I can with your thoughts.” Now he grabbed his jelly and started to read the label of it. He blinked several times at how surreal it was to watch him.
“Why are you telling me this?” Sam blurted, getting a little uncomfortable by his actions.
“Because you asked?” He placed down the little jelly and raised an eyebrow at him.
“Yes, Okay, I get that. That doesn’t mean that you have to, right?”
“Right.” He said the word slowly, as if he tasted the word in his mouth and by his look it seemed that he didn’t liked the sound. He looked so normal and honest when he talked, though how he really knew that he was telling the truth about not reading his thoughts or if he simply was just telling him that so Sam could let his guard down? Wasn’t he the king of lies? He didn’t remembered a lot of religious lore, he was more interested in folklore and neither Dean nor dad believed. He met Pastor Jim as little and went to mass with him, though only sometimes, and it didn’t focus in the Devil too much.
He jumped on his seat for the second time that day when he felt cold fingers touching his hand briefly; he looked upwards and saw Lucifer with two fingers still in the air. “You space out.” He explained.
“Uh, sorry.” Sam rubbed a hand against his face and saw Lucifer looking even more amused at the words. Yeah, he must not be used to people saying sorry to him. It was so odd that Sam smiled a little against his hand.
_-_
Since that day Lucifer started showing up, always in different times, three or four times a week and no more than an hour. It happened when he was alone or when there few people in the room, never when there was someone beside him. Though it wasn’t like Sam talked a lot with others either, most of times he was alone and he prefer it that way too. He grew too anxious when there were too many people in a room, he felt uncomfortable in his own skin.
He remembered the first time he went to the group session; it was before Lucifer appeared for the first time. There were five? Six people? Sam didn’t pay attention, he was too concentrated in keeping his smile and in looking polite, trying to answer the questions that were asked to him. He always did it short and preferred to be the one making questions instead, so he won’t talk too much, he only listened or fake that he did. When the nurse asked him to share Sam talked friendly and light, many years of lying to social services finally pay off (If they take you, they’ll keep you away from each other. You don’t want to do that to Dean, do you?), because the others seemed to buy it.
He started to talk with others after the sessions too, or more like the others started to talk with him. Sam’s palms were always sweaty when it happened, but it kind of helped to distract him. He focused more in what to say and how to say it than in his own thoughts, and his doctor approved how sociable he was getting. Sam never told him how his palms sweated or how he stayed up many hours on his bed thinking in different scenarios or how the small silent in conversations felt so long and heavy, almost as if it were crushing him. He only smiled at the doctor and told him how glad he was of recovering.
_-_
“Isn’t that book a little too simple for you?” Sam jumped and turned around to see Lucifer looking over his shoulder, a few inches from him.
“What are you doing here?” He whispered, the anger making him forget for a while who he really was. He stepped outside the room and looked at the hall for signs of Bobby or Ellen, he sighed in relief when he didn’t saw them.
“Visiting you, of course.” Lucifer smiled, standing behind him and looking outside too. “Isn’t that what good friends do, Sam?”
Sam braced himself and swallowed and murmured. “Yeah, I get that.”
“What are you doing?” He said, moving towards the pile of books Sam was cleaning. He grabbed one from a box and raised an eyebrow after he read the title. “Sometimes I question human creativity, you know.”
Sam smiled at the sight of Satan holding and starting to read ‘The ugly duckling’.
“That’s for kids. I’m looking for books to read to Jo.” He said quietly.
“Most of these are from when you were young.” Lucifer mentioned, reading the label with his name on the book.
“Yeah.” He was lucky that he gave the box to Bobby just before the fire. Jess thought in doing it before he and Dean decided to make their trip, and he agreed to take advantage of the space in the impala. Though they kind of forgot about them once he came to live with Bobby and Jo was still too little to read.
“May I borrow these?” Lucifer said holding a comic book from one of Dean’s boxes. Sam didn’t want to ask ‘Why?’, but he really was close to do it; luckily for him Lucifer noticed the silent question. “I’m in here.”
“Are you?”
“I’m curious to see how you humans characterize me, that’s all.” Sam bit his lip as he walked towards Lucifer, always wary. He looked at the comic book’ title and was surprised when he read ‘Lucifer’ in the cover, showing a blonde man in a suit. It was strange the accurate description.
“You’ve your own comic book?” Sam slowly asked.
“I’ve appeared in many other forms too, this looks promising though.” Sam glanced at the other comics and noticed for the first time how the others had some sort of transparent cover protecting them from dust, but the one in Lucifer’s hand was bare.
“You took the cover off?” Sam frowned, trying to use the height advantage he had on him, but Lucifer only looked even more amused at his attitude. He felt anger coiling in his stomach; he knew how much Dean took care of his comics. He always hid them behind their mattresses when dad came home because he thought that it was lost money, but Dean never asked money from him. He always found little jobs and used the money for food when dad didn’t left enough or bought clothes for him, it was only when he had a few extra coins that he used them to buy the things he liked. He remembered how close to tears Dean was when his dad found out for the first time and throw them to the trash can. He didn’t move to save them, but Sam had managed to save a few ones after dad left.
“If you’re worried that I’m going to dirt them, then you should remember who I’m.” Actually, that was the problem, Sam just wanted to take them away from Lucifer but he saw that Lucifer was truly curious and he had never seen him like that in all the month he had got to know him.
He sighed. Dean had taught him to share, but he wondered if it was okay to lend his things to Satan.
“Okay.” He said, Lucifer smiled and Sam thought that maybe he had done something good after all.
_ooo_
“And, uhm, how is Hell?” Sam asked once while the commercials were on, they were watching a Disney movie about toys that were alive and Lucifer seemed to enjoy it, considering how he didn’t ask too many questions.
“Anxious to know how your future home will be like?” Sam tried to not flinch, but he saw the little smirk on Lucifer’s face so that meant that he had failed in hiding it. A thing he had learned about Lucifer is that he didn’t apologized so Sam didn’t expect that from him. “You want to know what will happen to you? Sorry, but no spoilers.”
Sam snorted. “Where did you even learnt that word?”
He went still and clenched his fists in fear involuntarily when the final words left his mouth as he felt something cold brushing at his shoulder and glanced down. The cold brush was gone but the sensation didn’t leave his body immediately, instead it seemed to go through his body. He shuddered. He could hear the sound of the TV in the background but it was more like a faint noise, he could hear clearer his mind yelling ‘Don’t forget that he’s the Devil!’
Sam took a deep breath and glanced at his left warily. Lucifer wasn’t watching him; he was still seated next to him on the couch in his pristine white suit with his attention on the TV, though that didn’t mean that he was ignoring Sam if his satisfied grin didn’t serve as proof enough. Sam let a breath he was holding and from his peripheral vision saw how his companion turned his head.
“I was just curious.” Sam murmured as an apology and placed his legs against his chest. He stayed quiet after that, just watching the movie without paying too much attention. He couldn’t avoid how that little retort he made reminded him of a memory with Dean, it happened when he was doing his homework on the couch next to his brother while he watched the TV. He couldn’t remember what word Dean had used that moment, he only recalled the surprise he felt. His brother blushed and scowled at him, trying to sound offended as he ruffled his hair and said ‘What? I can’t know fancy words or something, bitch?’
‘Jerk’ Sam thought, answering at the Dean of his memory, smiling sadly against his arm. He missed his brother too much. He didn’t knew how he’d have survived without him those years after Dad died, they were lucky that Dean had enough age for the social services to not intervene and Bobby was willing to helped them. But because of him Dean had to work, if he hadn’t told him a year before the accident that he wanted to go to Stanford maybe Dean wouldn’t have worked so many hours to pay for his studies. His brother was sure that he was able to enter college with the grades he had.
They went to a bar to celebrate the day he got the acceptance letter, all paid, though that didn’t mean that the books were free; he tasted his first beer that time. And then the grade in his SAT was good enough to get him a scholarship in Stanford too. Dean came to California the weekend before his interview to help him to calm down. Jess thought it was a good idea. Jess was his girlfriend, he was going to ask her to marry him the day after his interview; Dean whistled when he saw the ring and smiled at him proudly. They slept in a motel because he thought that driving drunk wasn’t a good idea, considering what had happened to their dad. Though, that was his fault too.
“I have what you humans would call a secretary, though he’ll be more like one of my generals.” Sam’s head snapped to attention and turned to look Lucifer with widened eyes. “I don’t have a second hand in command because demons tend to be cunning, they’re only interested in obtain more power.”
Lucifer crunched his nose in disgust. “It wouldn’t surprise me if some were trying to search for a way to back stabbing me, so they could get the crown of Hell for themselves.”
“What-?”
“Anyway, my secretary goes for the name of Crowley. I catch him a few days ago making deals without giving all the necessary forms for that.” Forms? “He was keeping the souls for himself, so I got his tailor eaten by my hellhounds and they munched him a bit, a fine show indeed.”
“Are you trying to cheer me up?” Sam asked after a few moments of silence.
“Is it working?” Lucifer’s expression was of boredom but after years of looking at his face in the mirror, trying to learn how to hide his emotions he was an expert to see in others what they were trying to hide, and he saw a hint of curiosity in Lucifer’s eyes. Though it was like he wasn’t trying to hide it and more like, it was just something small.
“Why?”
“I can’t enjoy this movie with you moping next to me.” Sam snorted but he saw that it was true. “I can see and feel your soul, Sam. If I wanted to see more souls lamenting then I’d have stayed in Hell.”
“You’re in a mental ward, believe me, here you won’t find happy people.”
“It’s not like I enjoy being around humans.” He said glancing around. “But it’s fun to watch some of them struggling to fit, trying to fix themselves. Their hope makes it fun; there isn’t that kind of hope in Hell.”
“So I’m just fun for you?” Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised that it didn’t even bothered him what Lucifer said, though lately there was just a few things that he cared about. And he always wondered why Lucifer was doing this, visiting him when he could do whatever he wanted.
“Most of the time, yes.” Lucifer nodded. “When you’re not moping.”
“So… you like me?”
“I wouldn’t call it that, more like I can stand you.” Lucifer smiled at him like what he just said was the best compliment ever. Maybe it was considering how much he kept saying how he didn’t like humans. Sam tried to return the smile, but Lucifer just waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t even try it’s sad to watch you smile.”
“For the father of lies you’re way too honest.” He crossed his arms against his chest and puffed a little. He didn’t even care if what he said had offended him, he had tried to smile at the Devil he should at least appreciate that.
“Who knew that the boy had some attitude?” Sam flinched a little but didn’t apologize. “And so you know, I don’t lie.”
“Really?” Sam now turned his head completely and gave him his best incredulous face.
“Sometimes the truth can hurt more than lies, you know. I always say the truth some don’t wish to acknowledge, but they keep claiming that they’re lies.”
“So you’re telling me that you’ve never lied?”
“I may have twisted some truths to my benefit.” Sam chuckled when he saw how Lucifer was inspecting his hands with a pleased smile; he wondered what he was remembering. He opened his mouth to reply and keep asking questions now that Lucifer seemed to be in a good mood, but he heard someone calling him from behind. He looked over his shoulder and saw a nurse holding a tray with meds on the door. It was late so he couldn’t see his face, only his silhouette.
“It’s time for you to take your pills, Sam.” Sam turned quickly at the seat next to him, but didn’t found Lucifer there. He sighed in relief; he didn’t want to explain how a non-patient was in there.
“Thanks, Roger.”
He stood up and left the room, he didn’t bother in turn off the TV in case Lucifer returned. While drink his cup of water after taking his pills he shuddered thinking in how easy it was turning to talk with Lucifer, he wasn’t the kind of guy (He didn’t even was a guy) someone would want to be friends with. But he had already made the deal, he couldn’t back off now.
_-_
Lucifer wasn’t what Sam thought he would be, for starts he was less terrifying. He had never saw him displaying power or killing someone, though that didn’t mean that Sam didn’t know how powerful he was. You could almost feel the power in the air just by being close to him. When he got annoyed, it was a little hard to breath but Sam knew that he did it unconsciously. Lucifer was more like a regular CEO, often complaining about how stupid his employees were.
“But didn’t you create them or something?”
“Just the first ones and they’re smarter.” This time Lucifer was on top of his shelf, reading one of his books while Sam tried to sleep. It was weird to think about how quickly his friendship(?) developed.
“Uhm, the first ones?”
“You’re repeating my answers again, Sam.” He glanced at him from the book raising an eyebrow.
“Sorry, I mean, how even demons are born? Because from what you told me I can infer that there are a lot.” Lucifer closed the book and placed the object on his lap; he placed the palm of his hand under his chin, tilting his head while he looked as if he were in deep thought. “Is something I’m not supposed to know?”
“Not necessarily.” Sam sat on his bed and watched Lucifer in expectation, but he didn’t continue.
“Uhm, Luci-”
“Story time then, Sammy!” Sam swallowed his retort at the nickname, surprised at the tone he had used, instead he focused in what Lucifer would say. He felt his curiosity prickle for the first time in months when he started talking; his words held a power that just engrossed Sam into paying more attention. Lucifer’s voice was smooth an almost hypnotic when he wanted to made a point across, he had also a manner of speaking that made you able to picture clearly everything he said. That was why he felt even sicker when he started explaining how demons were truly born, how the human soul decayed to that level.
Sam knew that Lucifer wasn’t lying or just telling him that to terrify him about what would happen in ten years because of how he stopped talking when his chest felt too tight and the urge to throw up grew to uncomfortable levels. He just waited for Sam to take a few deep breaths before raising an eyebrow and asking: “Want me to continue?”
Lucifer left after he finished telling him how time and torture worked in Hell, saying that he had to reschedule some things. Sam thought for a moment that he probably wanted to give him some space, but he pushed that thought away, concentrating instead in not biting the inside of his cheek with too much force. The thought about how even if he hadn’t sold his soul he was designated to Hell didn’t help him to relax.
He just lay on the bed in a fetal position, tucking his hands between his tights, trying to not glance to the pencil in front of him that he managed to hide in his book from his group session. He just wanted to write some stuff down and took it; he hadn’t realized before how easy would be to press it against his skin. But this time he didn’t want to kill himself, he just needed some proof that he was alive and the pain usually helped. He moved far away, curling into a ball in the corner with his back touching the wall.
Lucifer appeared an hour after he left next to him with the same book he was previously reading on his lap; the lack of light didn’t seem to bother him. He sighed in relief because with Lucifer body seating next to him he wasn’t able to see the pencil. Sam didn’t look away from Lucifer’s face as he moved closer to his cold body; the only indication that he was scared was the shallow breaths of his labored respiration.
Lucifer didn’t do anything when his face brushed the soft material of his suit, nor when he finally closed his eyes. He just kept reading in silence, too quickly for a normal human to understand. Sam slept with the sound of turning pages as a lullaby and the power Lucifer emanated as a blanked, afraid that this comfort was a dream and that he’d need to wake up soon. He also thought that the cool hand he felt brushing on his hair while he drifted into sleep was just part of his imagination too.
_ooo_
It was in the seventh month (almost three months after Rufus’ death) that his doctor told him that he was going to change his meds. It scared him greatly when it happened, because he only took antidepressants and the sleep pills sometimes, though he had only taken the second ones the first month and after that just when he couldn’t sleep and asked his doctor first. The dose of the antidepressants was also reduced to the minimum after the second month, though they increased the dose the first two weeks after Rufus’ death. It was obvious that the doctor tried to be gentle about the subject and that was what scared him even more.
He had tried to act normal; he had done what everyone in his sane mind would do. The entire time. Was his act that easy to look through?
Sam looked down and ran both hands through his hair, leaning both elbows on his knees. He took a shaky breath before glancing at the doctor, remembering that he needed to keep his act together a little more time. If he could, he shouldn’t be scowling at himself at the moment; he was losing it in front of the most important man. The one that held his freedom.
“If I’m allowed to ask, Dr. Simigh. Why are you increasing my, uhm…” Sam deflated as he talked, even with all the practice he got from his session group, it was still hard to talk. And it was worse when the conversation drained him emotionally.
“Sam.” He felt a gentle touch on the hand that wasn’t supporting his head’s weight. The smile he found in his doctor when he glanced at him was supposed to be comforting, but Sam could see the condescending hint in his eyes too. He tried to return the smile, instead of snarling like he wanted to. “You’ve been sleeping four hours per day, that’s why I’m reestablishing your sleep pills again. It’s important that you sleep.”
“And the antipsychotics?”
“It’s for prevention mostly, Sam.” He took his hand away. “I know you want to return with your family after your trial period here, and I’ve seen how much have you progressed from your first weeks. It’s just a mild dose.”
“Have you…” He started. “Have you told Bobby and Ellen about this?”
“Not yet.” He said and looked to the small notebook with his notes. “I’m going to give you generic pills. I just want to confirm something, but it may be just your restlessness causing it, Sam.”
“But you will?” Sam pleaded, his tone made the doctor look at him.
“I have to; you need to stay here until I see that it’s working.”
He then gave him his pills and he was lucky of how tired they left him almost immediately, because he didn’t like to think in what he’d have done if he had the energy to do anything. His mind was too weary to even think as he walked towards his bed.
_ooo_
“I swear that demons can be really stupid, sometimes I just want to feed them to my hellhounds and get everything over.” Lucifer said appearing on the chair next to his bed.
“Your hellhounds?” Sam yawned, rubbing his eyes and feeling a little more confused than usual.
“What’s wrong with you?” He asked when Sam tried to stand up but his head was too heavy to even try to move it.
“Sleeping pills. They make me dizzy.”
“Yes, I can see that, but why are you taking them?” Sam moved the arm that currently shielded his eyes towards the back of his head, and he saw that the curiosity in Lucifer was honest.
“Because I need to sleep?” He almost face palmed at the stupid answer he gave, Lucifer’s face was clearly saying ‘No shit, Sherlock’. He blamed the pills. “I mean, a person needs to sleep because it can affect negatively the brain if they don’t do it. Eight hours is the correct time that one needs to-”
“I know what the human body needs, Sam. I was asking why you are taking them.” At Sam’s dumbfounded expression he sighed and continued. “You’re already used to sleep little; your body is used to four, five hours.”
Sam slowly turned and blinked owlishly at him, he probably was giving Lucifer some weird look, as if he just had told Sam the meaning of life or something of the same degree because his friend had that sparkle of amusement in his eyes that he often saw when he had done something Lucifer considered funny.
Had he just called Lucifer, the Devil, his friend? Sam tried to remember what he had thought a second ago and snorted when he realized that yes, he had done that. And again, he blamed the pills.
“Do I want to ask why are you making that weird sound?”
“You’re Satan.” Sam managed to answer, as he sat on the bed, laughing at his odd situation. His laugh grew a little more when he saw the surprise expression Lucifer had. His mind always felt light the first moments he woke after taking sleep pills but never like this. He didn’t know if it was because the other pills or just Lucifer, but even so, it had passed more than a year without him laughing and he kind of missed to do it.
He looked upwards when he felt cold fingers brushing his jaw and noticed that Lucifer’s face was a few inches away from his own, he hadn’t move away immediately mostly because Sam’s brain still couldn’t process too fast. He blinked and tried to swallow his nervousness but his mouth felt too dry. Sam remembered for a second the first time he saw him, the power that his eyes possessed hadn’t diminished at all, it still had the ability to pin him down.
Sam saw that Lucifer’s eyes had that silver flash that he sometimes could saw when the light surrounded Lucifer’s body, it was a peculiar hint that Sam had always found strange to see in the devil, and he always tried to ignore how it made Lucifer’s usual icy blue eyes glow; though it was harder to ignore it while being at this distance. Sam’s eyes flicked unconsciously between his eyes and lips and he then felt a soft blush that creep into his cheeks when he noticed what he had done, but Lucifer didn’t seem to mind, not even when Sam’s mouth parted when he tilted his head.
“What a peculiar thing you are.” He said, eyebrows slightly furrowing. He smirked as he slowly backed off.
“I’m hungry.” Sam blurted and stood up too quickly, he stumbled on his feet but Lucifer managed to catch him from his arm. Sam shivered at the contrast of his warm body to Lucifer’s usual cold skin. He didn’t turn to look at him and kept walking, ignoring the strange looks he got in the hall and how fast his chest pounded.
_ooo_
“You should try it.” Sam said gesturing at his pudding. “It’s the only good thing they serve.”
“Then why would you offer it to me?”
“Because you’ve never tried any food and that’s the only good thing I had at the moment that would probably change your mind.”
“You want to change my mind?” Lucifer asked clearly amused, Sam felt his cheeks warming but kept moving the little package in his direction.
“It won’t kill you.” Sam stopped pushing the pudding in his direction and raised an eyebrow. “Or will it?”
“Yes, Sam. You found my true weakness.” He said sardonically, grabbing the spoon from his bowl with mashed potatoes, pointing it at him. “Pudding.”
Sam laughed and accidentally pushed the pudding with too much force, making it fell from the table. Douche.
“I just felt that you insulted me.” Sam sat upright and looked directly at Lucifer, pudding forgotten.
“Were you reading my mind?”
“So you were! And no, I told you before that I wouldn’t do it.”
“But why?” Sam frowned and this time he asked with more conviction than the first time. The last time he didn’t felt too comfortable and was scared of what Lucifer would do to him, but now that they had some sort of friendship he was more confident.
“We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“I don’t like how you stretch the word that way, and you’ve to admit that we weren’t before.” Lucifer slowly leaned on his chair with a big smirk on his face, waving around the little spoon. Sam could hear his heartbeat pounding on his ears as he tried to not blush.
“So we’re now?”
“I’m serious.” Sam said, looking away.
“I respect consent, you know.”
“You do?” He asked, surprised at the tone Lucifer had used. It had the kind of power his words always held, but there was something different this time too.
“Of course, it’s part of my nature.” Well, now that he thought about (And he didn’t want to), he was pretty sure that if that demon could grab his soul and get away with it, she’d have done it; instead she needed him to accept the deal. Perhaps it was part of their nature after all.
He scratched the back of his neck; feeling that he was forgetting something. “I’ve to admit that I never thought that consent was something important to demons.”
“Demons don’t need consent, Sam.” Lucifer’s tone was hard and Sam couldn’t avoid not looking at him.
“But that demon, Meg, needed my consent to-“
“Deals are different. Is your soul what we’re bargaining, after all.” Lucifer didn’t give him the chance to finish his sentence, Sam noticed how annoyed he was getting and couldn’t ignore how his mind clouded in guilt as he looked down.
“Then why did you tell me that-“
“Hello. I’m sorry but I think this is yours?” Sam jumped in surprise and looked at his left, noticing for the first time the woman in nurse uniform that stood there with a sealed pudding in her hand. Sam hadn’t seen that nurse before; he frowned and grabbed the package. “Uh, thanks…?”
“Magdolna. I’m an intern here.”
“Oh. Well, thanks then, Magdolna.” He repeated the strange name. She glanced at his table and pursed her lips, he was going to ask her what was wrong but she talked first.
“You don’t have a spoon.” She said. “Do you wish me to bring you one? Is not a problem.”
Sam blinked at her and frowned, finally looking at his table. He was surprised when he found Lucifer’s pissed eyes in front of him with his spoon in his hand.
“I have it.” He said. Sam looked between the nurse and Lucifer. It was obvious that she hadn’t heard him.
“I- I, uh. Don’t worry.” He took a deep breath and glanced away. “I need to stand up and go for my pills anyway.”
“Okay. See you later.” Sam waited until she was a few feet away before he leaned on the table and grabbed his head between his hands, scratching his scalp with his short nails. He hated that they had to always cut his nails. He hated that so much in that precise moment.
‘You need to stay here until I see that it’s working.’ The words echoed in his head.
“Sam?” Lucifer asked him, but he couldn’t look at him. He stood up and went to his room, never glancing back. His muscles felt too tense and he needed to do something, anything, to calm himself. He scratched his arm with all the force he could muster as he walked and when he reached his room he entered quickly not forgetting to close the door behind him.
He breathed heavily and too fast for his liking. It felt like drowning; he blinked the tears away as he searched for his notebook. His hands were trembling too hard that he threw it to the floor accidentally when he found it, but he didn’t gave it too much attention, he just sat there and grabbed the pencil from the floor and held it in the air as he pushed his shirt off; he slammed the tip on his skin the same time he heard the flutter that he always heard before Lucifer appeared.
“Sam!” Lucifer knelt in front of him and grabbed his right arm, stopping him from moving the pencil. “What’s wrong with-“
Sam didn’t let him finish, he used his left hand to punch him in the face. He moved away but Sam’s knuckles still brushed his chin, he heard how the bone broke and pressed his injured hand on his chest. Lucifer touched gently his hand and healed him, ignoring the sob Sam made at the lost of pain. He held both his hands and pressed them against his chest, squeezing Sam into a hug that was really hard to get away. It felt like there was a metal rope that around him, making it impossible to move.
He finally stopped struggling when he felt how something not entirely liquid washed over him; it was like the sun rays in those warm days and the contrast between Lucifer’s skin and the light that seemed to engulf him was amazing and calming. He relaxed in Lucifer’s arms and felt how he moved his left hand to his side and healed that injury too, throwing the pencil away. Sam let a watery laugh against the white suit where he was pressing his face; that little display of power was proof enough for him that Lucifer was real. He moved his head until it rested in the crook of Lucifer’s neck, wanting to feel something cold against his forehead.
“Sam?” He asked, his tone uncharacteristically worried.
“They think I’m having hallucinations.” He replied between sobs. “They must have seen me talking with you and thinking that I- I… I haven’t talked with Ellen or Bobby about it, but I know that they know. That I need to stay more time here.”
Lucifer didn’t say anything, but he felt how he tensed. It was the first time Sam realized that this wasn’t his body, no one could be this still, it felt like a statue was hugging him and it didn’t help that he didn’t said anything. Sam slowly grew uneasy in the silent, it felt too heavy.
He started pressing his nails against his palm, more of a nervous habit than with the intention of hurting himself. The urge he felt of causing himself pain had faded, it felt numb inside him that he thought it may be Lucifer’s influence, because this calm felt too unnatural. Lucifer sat upright, backing off a little and grabbed his fingers to stop them from scratching his palms. He looked at him in the eye and seemed a little nervous as he opened his mouth.
“I want to make another deal.” Sam blurted, tears still in falling from his eyes. “Erase the memory of me from others and you can take my soul down to Hell. Immediately. Bobby, Ellen, J-“
Lucifer covered his mouth with his right hand.
“I said that if I wanted to be around moping people I’d have stayed in Hell, Sam.” He sighed. “Could you let me finish what I want to say?”
Lucifer waited for him to do something, so he nodded.
“First of all, I’m an angel. A fallen one, but still an angel. I’m surprised that you didn’t knew that, actually.” He said while he settled Sam’s shirt on its place. “And second, I apologize for the problems I’ve caused you.”
Sam’s eyes widened at the words. He blinked several times and thought for a moment if this was a dream.
“Don’t act so surprised…” He trailed off, tilting his head with a strange shade of mirth dancing in his eyes. “We aren't that close that I would want to flatter you much. Your healing psyche might not be able to take it.”
Sam snorted and Lucifer finally took his hand away frowning at his palm covered in…
“Oh, sorry!” He tried to stand up and search for something to clean but Lucifer grabbed his arm to stop him. He looked at him and saw how he waved his hand and all the fluids that were once there simply disappeared, the wet spots on his suit that Sam had also stained with his tears were gone too.
“Woah.” Sam blinked and touched his face, feeling his skin dry and clean, he couldn’t even feel the stubble he had since two days ago. He moved his hands to his eyebrows and-
“I still left your eyebrows.” Lucifer sounded a little offended, and then he slowly added. “And your hair.”
Sam smiled at him and mouthed a ‘thanks’. Lucifer smirked at him and waited for Sam to sit correctly in front of him, gesturing the spot with his hand.
“The deal still stands.” Sam said once he sat.
“I don’t want it. You already made a deal with me, Sam. And I’ll make sure that no other demon tries to make a deal with you.” Lucifer leaned too close for Sam’s comfort. “Your soul already belongs to me.”
Sam cleared his throat and tried to not make eye contact with him, looking everywhere instead, but Lucifer’s stare felt more like a physical touch brushing at his cheek. Incapable of ignore it he glanced at him from the corner of his eye and saw how his smile widened with every movement Sam made, leaning involuntarily towards him.
“So…” Sam licked his lips.
“Ten years, that was the deal.” He shivered at the contact of Lucifer’s cool breath on his skin, but he suddenly moved his head to the right and looked down. He frowned before looking at him again. “Would you promise me to be good for a while?”
“What?”
“Demons.” He crunched his nose at the word, still looking down; it was as if he was seeing something on the floor, something that had personally offended him.
“Lucif-?” He disappeared before he finished the word; Sam looked around and sighed when he noticed that he wasn’t going to return anytime soon. He pressed his head against his legs when the realization of what had happened crushed him.
He rubbed his face and was ready to stand, finish his food and maybe have a panic attack later when he noticed that there was a crayon on the place where his pencil had fell.
“Very funny.” He said as he grabbed the white crayon in his hands.