“It’s ruined! Ruined! Why do bad things happen to good people? I’m a good person. Aren’t I a good person? Why? Why must I be punished?”
Dean came out of the kitchen, black smoke billowing out around him as he hurried in the direction of the smoke detector.
“Uh, is every–” the smoke alarm blared, cutting off the younger Winchesters’ question.
Dean took in a heavy sigh and waved a towel in front of it vigorously with both hands. Sam shot a look over to Gabriel before they sprung up, opening all the windows in the living room. Grabbing decorative pillows off the couch, they hustled over to help Dean wave away the smoke. Between the three of them, it wasn’t long before the thick haze began to clear and it looked like they might be able to salvage their evening.
And then the sprinklers went off.
Defeated, Dean scrubbed a hand through his now-wet hair, “Awesome.” Dropping the towel, he snagged a beer from the case on the coffee table in front of the couch. Twisting the cap off, he took a long pull from the bottle before making his way to the front door, disappearing outside.
“For the love of Liza Minnelli!” Cas stomped out of the kitchen, hair matting under the shower from the ceiling. He flicked some sopping hair out of his face as he spotted the two guests. He spread both arms wide, “Are you seeing this? Well, I hope everyone’s thirsty, because apparently? All we’re serving this evening is water. No, no champagne for us. We’re much too good for that.” He scrunched up his face in distaste, “Champagne, so boujee.” He flicked his sopping hair out of his eyes again, “So we’re trying something new. Isn’t that simply fabulous?” He laughed hysterically for a moment and then sobbed. His face crumbling into a pout, he put a hand over his heart, “I can’t. I can’t even. I mean, how am I meant to salvage this catastrophe? This would take more fabulous than the entire cast of Queer as Folk and The L Word combined. I could die. I could just die!”
Shoulders slumping, he ticked the items off on his fingers one-by-one, “Hors d’oeuvres? Burnt to a crisp! Wine? Out of stock. Out of stock. How could it be ‘out of stock’? It’s a ‘wine store’!” He rolled his eyes and then looked down at the floor, “And this. Just look at this. It’s like the last 2 minutes of the sinking of the Titanic in here. That’s it.” He threw his hands up into the air in defeat. “I’m done. I’m cancelling New Years!”
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She pointed to the stairs, “I left the suit on the bed.”
He groaned before standing, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “Why do I have to dress up?”
“Because they deserve it.” She looked around the rundown house and sighed, “It’s not like we have an abundance of holiday cheer in here.”
“For Gods’ sake, you told Dean about monsters this year!” She spun around, slamming the bottles down, “I want him to know that doesn’t mean there isn’t still good out there.”
John blinked at her in surprise, taking a few steps toward her before letting out a heavy sigh, scrubbing a hand through his hair, changing directions, “O-okay. I’ll go.”
“Thank-you,” she picked the bottles back up before disappearing into the kitchen. “Be ready to leave in fifteen.”
“You have to get Deans’ pie.”
He stopped halfway up the stairs, “You didn’t make one?”
She poked her head out of the kitchen doors, giving him a bewildered look, “I’m sorry, have we met?”
He chuckled before starting back up them, “Right. Sorry.”
“Well? Whaddya say?” Mary held out the box of decorations, smile plastered on her face.
“Hell yeah!” Dean snatched the box, before running over to the undecorated tree, thousand-watt smile lighting his features.
Sam shook his head before joining his brother, digging out a box of big, blue glass bulbs.
Dean dug out the garlands, wrapping it around his hand before using it as a whip, chuckling, “Hey look! I’m Indiana Jones!”
Mary chuckled and shook her head, “Be careful with those, Dean.”
Sam smiled as he placed a bulb on the tree, “This is awesome, Mom! Just like I always imag-” he cut himself off and blinked, as if just noticing what was happening.
Mary made her way over to him, slightly crouching, “What’s wrong, Sammy?”
His brows creased in confusion and he looked around, “I… I don’t…” He chewed his lip as he turned his gaze out the window, catching a glimpse of something he couldn’t make out, “This doesn’t seem…. right.”
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“In Canada they celebrate Thanksgiving in October,” she shrugged, taking the seat beside him, “so I thought maybe we could make that our tradition.”
Sam tore his eyes away from the food to look up at the blonde, confusion still evident on his face, “But… what are we gonna celebrate in November?”
Jess’ smile slightly faded at the question, “Y-you don’t know?”
She sighed in disappointment as his face stayed the same, holding her head in her hands, “You’re right,” she stood, grabbing one of the dishes from the table, “This was a stupid idea.”
“Whoa, hey,” he stood, taking the dish, searching her eyes, “What’d I do?”
She studied his face, impatience growing, “You really can’t think of anything important in November? No important dates come to mind?”
Sam blinked in surprise before thinking, chewing his lip slightly as he did so, before shaking his head, “No, not really. Why?”
Jess rolled her eyes, stealing the dish back, “Oh, great. Good to know I mean nothing,” she stomped away into the kitchen.
“Whoa, what?” He followed her through the door, and she could feel his eyes on her back as she faced the counter, “What are you talking about?”
She took a deep breath before turning back to face him, “Our anniversary is in November, dumb-ass.”
Sam chuckled, “Oh.”
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Originally Written/Started: 15.11.17
“Where’s your brother?”
“He’s out on a food run,” Dean got up from the table and threw his empty beer in the trash.
Crowley looked around the room and took a few steps closer to the hunter, “You know why I’m here?”
“Yeah, I know why,” Dean walked forward, meeting the demon halfway, no more than a few inches away from him.
“Good,” he smiled, “then you’ll give me what I want?”
The blonde grabbed the front of his suit and swung him around into the wall, slamming him hard into it before getting close enough to smell the whisky on his breath. The demon let out a startled cry and struggled uselessly against his grip.
“You think, that just because you showed up, I’d give you what you wanted?”
Crowley blinked in surprise and stammered mutely for a minute.
“Because if you did,” he leaned impossibly closer, “you’d be right.”
In the next instant, the demon felt the Winchesters’ lips on his own. The hunter pressed his body against him, squishing him harder into the wall, pulling a deep moan from the demon.
The blonde stepped back, letting him fall to the ground, panting and smirked down at him.
“Wh-what was that?”
Dean didn’t respond, instead opting to take him by the collar again and drag him back to his feet, turning him around before letting him stumble out of reach.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Crowley’s shocked look only made the hunter’s smile grow wider, as he closed the distance again, “Won’t Moose be back soon?”
“We’ve got time,” Dean pushed the demon backward and he felt his back hit the bed.
Crowley gaped at him, “I don’t think-”
Crowley eased himself up the bed, trying to put distance between himself and the hunter, but didn’t respond. Dean smiled before crawling onto the bed after him.
“This,” he cut the demon off, before getting onto his knees, undoing his belt, “is for what you did to Sammy.”
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Sam huffed as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, why can’t I get you to shut up?
“Sam, we’ve been over this,” the devil crossed his legs as he sat on the toilet seat, “thinking at me is the same as talking. Might as well use your voice.”
No, he shook his head violently, making himself dizzy from the force, you’re not real.
Lucifer sighed before getting up off the toilet, coming up behind the giant, lips barely an inch away from his ear, “Are you sure?”
The brunette couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine at the words, the way the breath tickled the hair on his ear, how could he-
“Sammich? You okay in there?”
He jumped at the voice, heart practically leaping out of his chest. His eyes swept the room, not seeing the fallen angel anywhere.
He ran a shaky hand through his hair as he took a deep breath, “Y-yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”
The giant held his breath as he waited to hear retreating footsteps. He deflated against the sink, turning back before turning it on, bringing some water up to his face, that was close.
“Don’t worry, Sam,” Lucifer clapped him on the shoulder, smiling at their reflections, “you won’t have to keep me a secret much longer.”
“He’s in shock, but other than that he’s fine. No broken bones, barely even a scratch. From a fall that high, I’d say he’s pretty…”
The EMT’s voice droned on in the background, as he sat on the edge of the ambulance, picking at the lip of the paper cup in his hands, shock… this is what shock feels like?
“I know it’s not quite the outcome you wanted,” Lucifer came over and sat beside him, “but hey, you did want a body to hit the sidewalk, so… that’s still a win, right?”
Sam shook his head, how can you say that? He was your brother.
“Oh, c’mon. It’s not like I killed him.”
He scoffed, eyes still on the now-covered body, why did you come after me?
“You know why.”
“He loved you, Sam. Just like I told you.”
No, no he didn’t. He wasn’t- he tore his eyes away from the body to look at the fallen angel, “Why are you even still here? You got what you wanted.”
“How many times do I have to tell you?” The blonde blew out a breath and looked at the body bag, “He loved you. I never would’ve-” he cut himself off as he looked down.
Sam eyed him for a moment, “This is a trick, right?”
“This is all just you, right? You’re tricking me into thinking that-”
“No, Sam, I’m not.”
He glanced back up to the body bag, boulder settling into his stomach, no, this can’t- there’s no way this is- He turned back to the blonde, lump forming in his throat as he noted his sad expression, “Please tell me this isn’t real.”
The devil hung his head lower, not meeting the ex-hunter’s eyes.
The giant swallowed thickly, no, this- this can’t be real. “Y-you’re lying.”
“I’m sorry, Sam.”
“No!” He stood up, hands balling into fists at his sides, glaring at the shorter man, “You’re lying!”
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Requested: April 25th
“I told you he’d start to suspect something.” The blonde stretched his legs out in front of him, eyes on the giants’ kneeling form as he dug through the closet.
“Oh, well, good for you,” Sam continued flinging clothes behind him, getting increasingly desperate the deeper he dug, “C’mon, it’s gotta be in here somewhere.”
Lucifer peered over the edge of the bed, “What are you even looking for?”
“My contacts,” he reached the back wall of the closet, face falling, “They’re not here.”
“Contacts?” Lucifer sat up, tilting his head slightly in curiosity, “Since when do you wear contacts?”
Sam huffed, spinning away from the closet on his knees, scanning the room, “I don’t. I bought them after the last time they’d….” he let his voice trail off as his eyes landed on the dresser, maybe I moved them? He got up and made his way over to it, pulling out one of the drawers, beginning to dig through it.
“You’re worried your eyes will change?” Lucifer moved to sit on the edge of the bed frame, eyes wide, “How much have you been drinking?”
Sam shot a look over his shoulder, “What? No. Not that much. Shut up,” he turned back to the dresser, beginning his assault on the next drawer.
“Then why do you need them?”
“Hey, Sam,” Deans’ voice made the giant jump, and his head whipped up to face the open door. The blonde surveyed the clothes strewn about the floor, and the open closet doors before his eyes landed on his brother, hunched over the dresser, fistfuls of clothing in both hands, “… You lose something?”
“Uh, yeah,” Sam placed the clothes in his hand down, and straightened up slowly, “Y’know that pocket knife you gave me last year at Christmas? I was trying to find it.”
His brother didn’t look convinced but he nodded anyway, “Steaks are almost done.”
“Okay, great,” the brunette forced himself to smile, “Thanks.”
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With a regretful look back to his brother, Dean nodded and headed out.
“Finally… I thought he’d never leave,” Lucifer clapped the hunter on the shoulder as he closed the door.
He does like to worry. Wait, what are you doing? Don’t let him in, Sam heard the Impala take off as he made his way to the couch.
“Well, now that we’re alone…” Lucifer waggled his eyebrows and straddled the hunter.
“What the fuck,” the giant jumped up and took a couple steps backward.
“Sam,” the blonde gave him a curious look as he picked himself up off the floor, “we’ve done this before you know.”
“No we haven’t,” the hunter had the nerve to look appalled, much to the devil’s amusement.
As if he doesn’t remember it was his idea… He brushed himself off and analysed the hunter, “Sam, do you… ,” he struggled to find the words, not wanting to give something away that he wasn’t ready to hear, “You remember what happened in the cage, don’t you?”
“Of course I remember,” he crossed his arms and cocked his head, “why do you ask?” And why do you sound so… hurt?
Lucifer shifted his gaze down to the floor as he worked out how to continue, “So then you… remember? W-what we did?”
“Damn right I remember what you did to me you son-of-a-bitch,” he couldn’t help but notice the flinch the blonde gave at his tone, Pfftt, please Sam… as if the devil is scared of you, get real.
“No,” Lucifer closed his eyes and sighed before he locked gazes with the hunter, “Do you remember what we did?”
“What do you-”
“In the cage, yes you were tortured, but never by my own hand,” the explanation rushed out of him, almost as if he couldn’t stop it, “it was all Michael. I told you I’d never hurt you Sam, and I meant it. I did everything I could to get between you and Michael, I couldn’t just stand there and watch him break you over and over again. So I… I made you a hide out.”
“A place where Michael wouldn’t be able to get to you. I set up a decoy version of you for him to take his frustrations out on, so he wouldn’t notice you were gone-”
“A decoy? Where do you get a decoy Sam Winchester from, Hunters R Us?” Sam chuckled and crossed his arms, remaining skeptical of the explanation.
“Not exactly…” Lucifer winced, clearly not wanting to divulge the information.
“Lucifer,” Sam’s voice was hard and he took a step toward the shorter man, “what did you use as a decoy?”
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“Where the hell’s your brother?”
“Supply run,” he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and stretched, “Did you forget something?”
“Forget something? Dean, I’ve been gone four days.”
“What?” He was definitely awake now.
Bobby flicked the light on, making Dean shield his eyes from the light, “I came back from the hunt to see the door unlocked, the Impala gone, you snoring on the couch and a lack of your mammoth of a brother.”
Fuck, he struggled to his feet, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I got back yesterday, figured he was out on a supply run and waited to see if he’d come back. Gave the kid fifteen minutes from when I got in, when he didn’t show? I’ve been trying to wake you since.”
He is so dead. He started toward the door.
“Do you know where he went?”
“No, but I’ll start with the store and work my way up,” he reached into his pocket for the keys.
Fuck, I let him take the car! He banged a fist against the wall, “Can we take your truck?”
Bobby nodded, catching up to Dean, before running out the door. They climbed into his truck – needing to physically pull Dean half way into it first, which shaved off another couple minutes of catch-up time – before speeding off toward the store.
“C’mon Sam, I know you want to vent. Who better to listen than me?” Lucifer stretched his feet up onto the dash as they sped down the road, the youngest Winchester looking ready to explode, his grip on the steering wheel getting increasingly tighter.
“Leave me alone.” Sam pushed the palm of his left hand as hard as he could into the wheel.
Why can’t I just get some time to myself? Usually, Lucifer disappeared after a few minutes or he just hung around in the background, not really talking. But lately things had started to change – Sam would walk into a room to find him waiting there, actively trying to get him to respond, he seemed more in tune with the situation and would interject whenever there was a pause, and, perhaps the most annoying – the scar on his hand was pretty much useless.
“Don’t be mean, Sammy, I’m only trying to help.”
“I don’t want your help.”
“Oh c’mon,” Lucifer bumped his arm, “Tell me what’s bothering you about Big Bro.”
“It’s just-” he huffed, knuckles going white around the steering wheel, “He’s acting like I’m five. Like I can’t take care of myself. All the shit we’ve been through? And he just assumes I’m not able to handle this. I mean,” he pulled into the parking lot, “No offence but seeing you isn’t exactly the worst thing that’s happened to one of us, y’know?”
Lucifer nodded, “He has gotten more… controlling lately.”
“I know,” Sam got out of the car and made his way toward the entrance of the store, “I think it might be tied to losing Cas, but still…” he picked up a basket as they entered, pausing as Lucifer hopped into one of the carts, “… what’re you doing?”
“I’ve never rode in one before.”
Sam shook his head, replacing the basket, before making his way over to the cart, “You know they don’t go very fast, right? If you think riding in a car is slow – this’ll be ten times worse.”
Lucifer waved a dismissive hand at him before pointing to the doors, “Onward!”
Sam complied, making his way into the store pushing the cart, unable to ignore the thousand-watt smile the devil gave him.
“Don’t forget the pie, Sam.”
“I’m not gonna forget the pie,” he mentally cursed himself as a lady gave him a quizzical look as they passed, shit.
“What?” Lucifer turned to look at the lady, before turning back to the hunter, confused, “What’s wrong?”
Nothing, he turned down the produce aisle, throwing things into the cart occasionally.
“Ooohhh,” Lucifer nodded, “You don’t want to look crazy, got it.”
They turned down another aisle, Sam moving through it quickly, trying to find pie.
Sam stopped abruptly, glad the aisle was empty, “What the hell?”
Lucifer picked a box of Pop-Tarts up off the shelf, holding them out to show the hunter, “Can we get these?”
Sams’ brows furrowed in confusion, “Since when do angels need to eat? And since when do you like Pop-Tarts?”
Lucifer pet the box, “These are the best thing your kind has invented.”
“…Sure,” Sam held back his chuckle as the devil reached for another box, cradling both against his chest.
They continued shopping in silence for a while, before Sam doubled back on some of the aisles, scanning the signs above with frustration, “Where the hell is the pie?”
Lucifer pointed toward the back of the store, “Probably where it says Bakery?”
He stopped dumbfounded before shaking his head, of course, starting toward the back of the store.
He ducked as he heard a gunshot, before turning to the front of the store, eyes widening as he saw another him, “What the hell?”
“This is a robbery!” Clone-Sam yelled, firing two more shots into the ceiling, “Everybody down!” He made his way over to the cash, shooting some of the people in line, before throwing the cashier a bag, “Money, in!”
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