Lucifer you insensitive little shit! I mean he was funny, except that he was Sam’s mortal enemy… And it would stop being funny after the first day. Sooo, sorry Sam :/
The countdown to Supernatural season 11 continues…
37 days left!
The request was for Lucifer showing Sam physical affection or comfort. Well, actually, the requests for snuggles, I’m not a snuggler, and I don’t think they really are either, but I’m big on having the most unlikely of friends/enemies having the most unexpected moments of vulnerability and trust, so….. S7 Sam in the mental institute, pre-Emanuel.
Mild angst. colour-of-my-kidneys
It wasn’t that it was night outside the window of Sam’s room at the
mental institution. It was a little after noon and the tray the nurse
had brought was still sitting untouched on the desk beside the door. The
lights were off, though, and it had begun raining that morning, a light
drizzle after a grey morning that refused to dissipate. The low hum of
the air conditioning had kicked on and Sam’s poor body was exhausted.
That was what had driven him to bed. Various, unrelated factors leading
to one logical conclusion. He didn’t need a mirror to know the shape he
was in. He saw it in the worried looks of the doctors and nurses, the
way the other patients teetered between giving him space and hovering a
step away to catch him when he inevitably collapsed.
couldn’t eat. He wouldn’t be able to choke down the tasteless mouthfuls
of state-approved meals they distributed out on identical plastic khaki
trays, as bland as the walls, uniforms, and everything else in the
hospital. He needed sleep, wanted it, yet ran from it. They had
him medicated enough it would drop a horse, but he stayed there in that
hell between sleep and awareness, clinging with jagged nails to that
cliff’s edge praying he would and wouldn’t fall over into that abyss of
In that darkness was fire and pain and death and
screaming and Hell. In that darkness were voices whispering in his ear,
reminding him of every time he’d failed, every wrong step he’d taken
leading to this moment. In the abyss he was confronted by the faces of
those he’d failed to protect, looking at him in disgust and betrayal,
faces and bodies contorted same as they had been in the final moments of
their greatest agony, all the while their blood dripped thick and
viscous from his hands, fat droplets slashing into the sea of red all
around him, stretching out in every direction from beneath his feet.
Sam didn’t sleep. He lay still, curled on his side like a child, with
his face pressed into the worn thin pillow that smelled of bleach and
He didn’t move when he felt the presence at his back
draw closer and lay beside him on the thin bed, mattress springs
creaking slightly as they gave to accommodate their shared weight. Sam
braced himself for a violent jarring, to be ripped from his quiet moment
listening to the rain falling outside and against his window, to the
air conditioning steadily blowing into his room. He waited to be torn
from this hellish purgatory that was on the precipice of sleep without
Instead, a hand came up to delicately move stray
locks of hair away from his face and out of his eyes. Deft fingers
coaxed them back and tucked them behind his ear. There was a pause, a
moment of silence that hung thick and heavy in the air with unspoken
question and withheld response while one of them waited and the other
held his breath. When Sam said nothing, the hand returned, stroking over
Sam’s hair, so faint and gentle that the hunter almost wept. Biting his
bottom lip between his teeth, Sam shut his eyes, his brows drawn
together as he swallowed, throat tight around the knot there. Like he
had tried- and failed- to choke down the meal on the tray.
a final pass over his hair, Lucifer’s hand and weight were gone and Sam
braced himself, eyes clamped shut and every muscle taunt with tension
as he waited for the blow to come, the explosion of sound, the rush of
sensation, the sickening relocation to a place that was warm and safe
and home. For this small haven of almost-peace to be wrenched from him.
weight resettled without a word and Sam blinked his eyes open in
surprise. The devil peered back at him, their noses nearly brushing as
Lucifer settled onto the bed in front of him now. Sam’s entire body went
rigid. He’d been fighting for so long not to acknowledge the angel, as
if somehow, if he did it long enough it would finally reach a breaking
point to make him go away.
Lucifer brought his hand up
again, laying it against Sam’s cheek in a feather-light touch, thumb
grazing lightly over Sam’s cheekbone while Sam’s eyes played over his
face trying to figure out this new strategy. What was this? Where would
the next attack would come from, Lucifer’s final push on the shattered
remnants of Sam’s exhausted mind? Instead of an attack, deft fingers
slid into his hair and then through, tracing over the back of his skull
until the strands slipped all the way between them.
repeated the movement, and the sensation was such a miserable comfort
Sam closed his eyes on a whimper. But he didn’t move away. He didn’t
move and Lucifer didn’t speak and they stayed there, in the sanctity of
the air conditioning and the rain-filled day beyond the window, in
silence. Sam felt his muscles uncoil little-by-little, his weight
sinking into the mattress.
He opened his eyes once more only
to find Lucifer’s closed, his whole face peaceful for the first time. It
made him look younger. Human. Sam closed his eyes again, not caring if
it was a trap, or if he’d hate himself for this later. For the first
time in a long time, he had a moment of peace.
It didn’t matter where it came from, he would take it.
"Hey, I got a case," Dean tossed a newspaper down in front of Sam.
Sam looked away from his laptop screen to look down at the newspaper. “Huh…” He raised his eyebrows, looking up at Dean. “You sure it’s our kind of thing? I mean, you’re usually the one asking me that but uh-” Sam cleared his throat and shrugged.
Adam was burning in the pit again for day hell he didn’t know it’s been so long down here that he lost count. And after Sam left with out his soul he gave up counting but now it was just him, Michael, and Lucifer not even Sam’s soul was here. He thought the pain would just numb but it didn’t Michael stop tearing at him so that was a bonus. Adam was so done with the two Archangels he’d much rather be any were else in hell then with those two because all they do is fight or get pulled at by the cage as well.
Adam saw a bright light witch was kind of new he closed his eyes because it started hurting his eyes he couldn’t understand what was being said but he felt a rush then felt like something fell on him like a tone of bricks. He open his eyes and he was in a hotel room? He looked around Michael and Lucifer were on a bed nocked out he rubbed his eyes this had to be a trick right?! He couldn’t be on Earth right?! He got up his whole body hurt but he walked over to the door open it he was on Earth where he had no idea or carried he closed the door and walked to take a shower because of all the things he should be doing right now a shower was definitely one of them.
“I want to give you a gift. I want to give you everything.”
Finished it! Probably with a little help from Morningstar, because usually I work much much slower:)
Since it is still the year 2014 and Supernatural hiatus continues, I went on a trip down the memory lane and guess who was waiting there? Lucifer wearing Sam Winchester’s body suit. Jared was absolutely brilliant portraying him, wasn’t he?
With a little nod and wink towards DC Comics Lucifer, because I adore those comics. And a little nod towards The Rolling Stones.