SPN/BSG crossover: Heads and Hearts Roll [Lucifer/Head!Six]
Title: “Heads and Hearts Roll”
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: PG-13 [some disturbing imagery]
Timeline: Season 7/post-series [minor spoilers for SPN 7x13, “The Slice Girls”]
Summary: Lucifer gets pro tips on being somebody’s hallucination. [SPN/BSG crossover; vaguely implied Lucifer/Head!Six, Lucifer/Sam]
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW. Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore, Glen A. Larson and Sci-Fi.
A/N: I’ve been marathoning BSG lately and somehow got this insane idea.
HEADS AND HEARTS ROLL
God loves you, Morningstar, she tells him in a quiet, seductive voice, and he really, really wants to believe her.
She claims to be an angel, but if she is that, she is the messenger of some strange, compassionate God he doesn’t know. A God who sends his angels in the form of scantily clad blond women definitely merits certain attention, and sometimes Lucifer wonders if he should play matchmaker and redirect her to Dean Winchester. Now that is one soul in need of saving.
She tells him about different worlds, planets bearing the names of constellations and ancient deities that have travelled through space only to regress to mere memories. Some of them he knows, some of them he has killed. That doesn’t seem to impress her in the slightest. She smiles at him, a sharp curve of her sensual lips, but when he touches her, she - his sister - feels old, impossibly old, and he questions her in a moment of weakness if her kind has forced their God on all of them, if He truly loves them all and how much that love costs. He thinks of a God so huge that He overshadows Father, becomes Father, and that prospect is undeniably daunting.
She doesn’t seem to realize that she is a hallucination of a hallucination. He only sees her when Sam succeeds in driving him away with little shots of pain that work more and more sporadically these days. When he points that out to her, she chuckles and tells him that it might be a learning experience since she has already done her stint with a human.
For an enemy of humanity (which, if he understands her stories correctly, she should be), she speaks about love an awful lot. He is no stranger to that feeling but the way she says the word, he imagines a terrifying, overwhelming thing written in block letters, and he almost feels sorry for the human that used to hallucinate her.
She tells him that he must love them too. They are all God’s children after all. She laughs when he describes to her the concept of vessels. Angels, she says, must love humans so completely that they have to be inside them. It prompts him to smile as well when he recalls how Nick’s frail body fell apart all around him, rotting and dripping with blood even as his blackened grace incinerated it from the inside. Indeed, if that is not love of biblical proportions, he doesn’t know what is.
Sam refuses to listen to him. He doesn’t even try to chase him away. He simply stares through him, as if hoping that Lucifer will come to his senses and leave of his own accord. Lucifer considers putting on a slinky red dress and dying his hair platinum-blond; maybe that would get him noticed.
Their paths cross more often now, occasionally even with Sam present. She finds Sam fascinating. She positions herself on his desk when he does research for another case, her long legs crossed just close enough for him to trail his hand along them, but he can neither see nor touch her of course. She passes her hand over Sam’s shoulder and glides it down his forearm and whispers to him something that he cannot hear. Sometimes Lucifer feels that she highjacks the entire scene just by being-there-but-not-quite.
He applauds Sam for killing Emma. The last thing the world needs is a Dean-slash-Amazon warrior hybrid running around and forcing herself on poor defenseless males. Sam doesn’t quite see it this way, but it tears a chuckle from the angel - and Lucifer finds it oddly gratifying.
She asks him what it feels like being inside a human. He says: Like taking a dirt nap. But he looks at Sam and imagines ecstasy he never got to feel, and he wants to claw his way in and make Sam bleed on the inside, he wants to turn him into Nick and reduce him to worn-out dregs of skin and bone. And then put him back together because, hell, the bitch is right: that’s Love for you.
He has tried everything on Sam. He warped reality, posed as his brother, taunted him with the body count (lately the Winchesters have been losing people in catastrophic progression, so it’s been a little like Christmas meets Halloween), promised and delivered all kinds of psychological torture imaginable. That is not to say he cannot see Sam falling apart but it happens a great deal slower than Lucifer would prefer.
So he takes a page out of her book. She observes him with keen interest that suggests that maybe - just maybe - if she likes him enough, she will consider opening the cage. He doesn’t have much hope but he clings to what there is. He doesn’t tell Sam about her, nor mention that if her counterparts come into play, they will make the Leviathan infestation look like common cold.
He leans over Sam, wraps his arms around his neck and whispers: “God loves you, Sammy. God loves all of us. Shall we talk about that?”
February 7-8, 2012
Author: Shaitanah
Rating: PG-13 [some disturbing imagery]
Timeline: Season 7/post-series [minor spoilers for SPN 7x13, “The Slice Girls”]
Summary: Lucifer gets pro tips on being somebody’s hallucination. [SPN/BSG crossover; vaguely implied Lucifer/Head!Six, Lucifer/Sam]
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW. Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore, Glen A. Larson and Sci-Fi.
A/N: I’ve been marathoning BSG lately and somehow got this insane idea.
HEADS AND HEARTS ROLL
God loves you, Morningstar, she tells him in a quiet, seductive voice, and he really, really wants to believe her.
She claims to be an angel, but if she is that, she is the messenger of some strange, compassionate God he doesn’t know. A God who sends his angels in the form of scantily clad blond women definitely merits certain attention, and sometimes Lucifer wonders if he should play matchmaker and redirect her to Dean Winchester. Now that is one soul in need of saving.
She tells him about different worlds, planets bearing the names of constellations and ancient deities that have travelled through space only to regress to mere memories. Some of them he knows, some of them he has killed. That doesn’t seem to impress her in the slightest. She smiles at him, a sharp curve of her sensual lips, but when he touches her, she - his sister - feels old, impossibly old, and he questions her in a moment of weakness if her kind has forced their God on all of them, if He truly loves them all and how much that love costs. He thinks of a God so huge that He overshadows Father, becomes Father, and that prospect is undeniably daunting.
She doesn’t seem to realize that she is a hallucination of a hallucination. He only sees her when Sam succeeds in driving him away with little shots of pain that work more and more sporadically these days. When he points that out to her, she chuckles and tells him that it might be a learning experience since she has already done her stint with a human.
For an enemy of humanity (which, if he understands her stories correctly, she should be), she speaks about love an awful lot. He is no stranger to that feeling but the way she says the word, he imagines a terrifying, overwhelming thing written in block letters, and he almost feels sorry for the human that used to hallucinate her.
She tells him that he must love them too. They are all God’s children after all. She laughs when he describes to her the concept of vessels. Angels, she says, must love humans so completely that they have to be inside them. It prompts him to smile as well when he recalls how Nick’s frail body fell apart all around him, rotting and dripping with blood even as his blackened grace incinerated it from the inside. Indeed, if that is not love of biblical proportions, he doesn’t know what is.
Sam refuses to listen to him. He doesn’t even try to chase him away. He simply stares through him, as if hoping that Lucifer will come to his senses and leave of his own accord. Lucifer considers putting on a slinky red dress and dying his hair platinum-blond; maybe that would get him noticed.
Their paths cross more often now, occasionally even with Sam present. She finds Sam fascinating. She positions herself on his desk when he does research for another case, her long legs crossed just close enough for him to trail his hand along them, but he can neither see nor touch her of course. She passes her hand over Sam’s shoulder and glides it down his forearm and whispers to him something that he cannot hear. Sometimes Lucifer feels that she highjacks the entire scene just by being-there-but-not-quite.
He applauds Sam for killing Emma. The last thing the world needs is a Dean-slash-Amazon warrior hybrid running around and forcing herself on poor defenseless males. Sam doesn’t quite see it this way, but it tears a chuckle from the angel - and Lucifer finds it oddly gratifying.
She asks him what it feels like being inside a human. He says: Like taking a dirt nap. But he looks at Sam and imagines ecstasy he never got to feel, and he wants to claw his way in and make Sam bleed on the inside, he wants to turn him into Nick and reduce him to worn-out dregs of skin and bone. And then put him back together because, hell, the bitch is right: that’s Love for you.
He has tried everything on Sam. He warped reality, posed as his brother, taunted him with the body count (lately the Winchesters have been losing people in catastrophic progression, so it’s been a little like Christmas meets Halloween), promised and delivered all kinds of psychological torture imaginable. That is not to say he cannot see Sam falling apart but it happens a great deal slower than Lucifer would prefer.
So he takes a page out of her book. She observes him with keen interest that suggests that maybe - just maybe - if she likes him enough, she will consider opening the cage. He doesn’t have much hope but he clings to what there is. He doesn’t tell Sam about her, nor mention that if her counterparts come into play, they will make the Leviathan infestation look like common cold.
He leans over Sam, wraps his arms around his neck and whispers: “God loves you, Sammy. God loves all of us. Shall we talk about that?”
February 7-8, 2012