Archive of Our Own

Work Text

February 6, 2009

Sam Winchester and Gabriel’s baby is more of a parasite than, well, a baby. It gives Sam wretched abdominal pain, bloating, loss of appetite, a distended abdomen, fever, vomiting, listlessness, and he just generally feels unwell. According to WebMD he most definitely has a parasite; one that won’t leave for another three months, that he’ll have to then keep for a decade or two.

It became a ritual: wake up, vomit into the trashcan beside his bed, drag himself into the bathroom, vomit again, shower, dress, vomit one last time, wash up, then sit down to breakfast with the archangel. At least the ginger tea had enough sugar to get rid of the taste of bile. His morning sickness should be over, but he’s learned the hard way that his son is going to be just as picky an eater as his baby-daddy. The cambion can’t even catch a whiff of any kind of vegetable without upchucking, and considering he works in a law firm stuffed to the brim with health-nuts - Needless to say, he keeps a large garbage can at his desk.
On this day, just as they were cleaning up their meal, Gabriel slithered around him and put his hands over Sam’s stomach. "Either my cooking is too rich or that baby really is forming quickly," The archangel grinned.Your boy toy just called you fat. Argos points out none too gently, looking up from his plastic bowl filled with waffles on the floor.Sam was going to strangle Gabriel for calling him fat. When he swirled around with a vein throbbing on his forehead, hand extended to reach for his throat, he saw a tender look in the latter’s eyes. The cambion lowers his hands and lets them settle in his lap. The archangel had outdone himself with breakfast this morning, knowing that their child was only interested in what he branded as breakfast. Now surrounded by empty plates, all licked clean, he was content to just sit there and rub his distended abdomen.“All I’m saying is pregnancy suits you, sasquatch.”“Shut up,” Sam mumbles sipping from his tea, but his cheeks redden, “I’ll probably get stretch marks like some old hag.”Gabriel grins, and leans across the table, “And I’d still love you.”The archangel presses a gentle kiss to his temple, and the cambion can feel the smile on his lips. Then something warm and wet began trickling down the side of his neck, and slowly, he felt the angel’s lips slacken against his neck. Blood flowed, thick and sluggish, from a stab wound in his gut, spilling out glistening grey snakes. The snakes flowed forward, twisting and coiling into a solid mass of flesh and bone, until it formed a man. A man with red eyes.“Quite the beer gut you’ve got there, Sammy,” Lucifer coos, his mouth a wolffish grin as he pokes a finger against Sam’s stomach,” Maybe you are having a bouncing baby boy with less of wings and a halo, more of a barbed tail and horns. Maybe he’ll come out with a forked tongue and a taste for flesh, little guy will probably just eat his way out. Or pop out like in Alien. Or maybe he’ll be my son. Tainted. Demonic.”No, no, no, no. And Sam struggles so hard not to scream as Lucifer edges closer. Tries to turn his face away as that forked tongue flicks at him. Lucifer takes his hand, it’s rough and calloused, guides Sam’s face back on trajectory. The devil jams a bruising fingertip into Sam’s jaw, pressure half prying Sam’s mouth open. Lucifer catches an opening. Takes it. Draws blood, sucks in, slides his forked tongue between Sam’s teeth.“It’s funny, isn’t it? That Gabriel, your sub-par knight in shining tinfoil armor, tried to hide our… history from you,” Lucifer whispers pulling away, his gaze cast on his brother’s corpse on the floor, “Do you think that he was afraid? Afraid that you’d come running to me if you knew the truth? You’ve been running your whole life, Sam. Like right now, you’re running from your family and your friends because of what you’ve become. And because you know your destiny, sure you’ve evaded me for now, but there’s a whole other path that you’re already going down. Maybe you aren’t running from everything else, you’re running to me?”
“Shut up,” Sam chokes out, his hand going over his mouth as he backs away. Sam spotted maggots, flecks of doughy white nestled within mangled flesh, feverishly squirming into hunks of gore. Gabriel’s once handsome features were spotted with angry bruises, and death had frozen his face into a rigid smile, a final, eternal lamentation to the heavens.

Lucifer chuckles softly, inclining his head to the side as he continues taunting, “You’ll see, Sam. We’ll find each other, eventually, and when we do – Let’s just say Gabriel will be rolling in his grave.”
Sam woke to soft sheets, and the morning light trickled in through the blinds. Shedding himself of the remaining glimpses of his dream, his eyes were still shut as he soaked in the warmth of his covers before letting his hazel eyes see the sun's rays. He blinks, closes his eyes, and blinks again. He sits up, one hand on his large distended abdomen, and drags his feet off the bed. Rubbing his stomach absentmindedly, he doesn’t even notice the sheen of tears blurring his vision. Slow desolate tears ran from his unblinking eyes and dripped steadily onto his nightshirt.“Damn it,” Sam curses softly, wiping away the tears. He rubs gentle, reassuring circles onto his belly, “I’m sorry, so, so sorry. I’m trying, buddy. I’m trying so hard to be strong for you.”The knock came quietly first and then there was silence. After a few seconds, Castiel pokes his head in with a sheepish look. The seraph has been adamant about the cambion’s privacy, ever since his last hormone-induced outburst. The angel had appeared in the back of his car on his way back from work one evening and had damn near forced the pregnant man into premature labor as he slammed onto the brakes with a startled yell. Learning his lesson, he knocked before entering a room, asked before he touched anything that didn’t belong to him, and even got into the habit of making his presence known when he abruptly appeared somewhere.“Good morning,” Castiel greets, fully entering the room. His eyes settle on the tear tracks going down Sam’s cheeks, and he frowns, “You were dreaming about him again. Weren’t you?”Sam furiously wipes away the tears, before replying, “Privacy, Castiel. Remember?”
“Yes,” The seraph parrots, “Privacy. I apologize, I’m still trying to get used to…” His gaze falls upon the floor as he trails off, “…the concept of boundaries.”
“What is it like for angels? Boundaries, I mean.”Castiel looks up, a sad smile on his face as he answers, “There are none, for there is nothing kept between us,” He sighs, and takes a seat on the bed next to Sam, “I do, however, try and respect the privacy of others by not prying into their affairs, but I am your friend, Sam. To express undue curiosity—”
“What about lying?” Sam interrupts, inclining his head in curiosity.
Castiel frowns, and answers, “Lying is absolutely forbidden among angels, except to save face for another. An accusation of lying among us is a deadly insult. Which is why the fall of Raphael caused little outcry, for he would have been severely punished for keeping the truth of the Apocalypse from us anyway. The new leader, Joshua, has already restored what little chaos there was initially.”Sam turns to Castiel, sensing he was keeping something from him, “And what of Michael, he oldest archangel? Why didn’t he take over?”
“Privacy,” Castiel states, but there is a light humor in his eyes.
“I thought angels did not have such a thing,” Sam points out, bumping his shoulder against Castiel’s.The seraph places his hands on the cambion’s preparing to hoist him up. “I don’t know,” Castiel murmurs, his fingers gently running along the latter’s knuckles, “I think I enjoy the idea of being able to keep some things to myself.”“Human ways are often unfathomable. But in time, one learns to live with them,” Sam comments with a slight smile. 
“If one has an exceedingly strong constitution.”
Sam chuckles at that. “I suppose if you are allowing me some privacy, I should do the same for you,” Sam says, letting out a soft grunt as Castiel pulls him up from the bed. He stumbles forward slightly, his hands immediately going to his stomach, but the angel’s are already firm on his waist, steadying him there,” Oh, thank you. I’m still a little thrown off b-balance.”
Castiel nods, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he pulls his hands away. He nods again, then there’s a ruffle of wings, and he’s gone, most likely downstairs preparing to go about his day. Sam is left standing there awkwardly in his pajamas with bed-hair, his own cheeks the same light shade of pink. He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair three times in succession, trying to tame the unruly mess. He glances in the mirror, huffs, and pushes his hand out towards his closet. The door opens and three articles of clothing float out, before falling gracefully onto his bed. 
Laid out onto his bed is a sky-blue sweater set out over a crisp white button-up with a pair of jeans. Sam had quickly learned that one of the worst things about being pregnant was trying to put clothes on and off. So, he cheated. Despite being a self-declared retired cambion, he still used his powers for the simplest of tasks such as: putting on clothes, getting the television remote, adjusting books on a high shelf, and so and so forth. To think, he went from averting the Apocalypse, to not being able to bend over to tie his shoe.
Sam adjusted the sweater over his distended abdomen, his hands brushing over the synthetic fibers, when he felt his child give him a rough kick, and he lets out a sharp gasp. He gently lifts his shirt; purple welts are scattered across his abdomen like a disease. It hurts to breath and he wonders if some ribs are cracked. He recalls the first time he felt the baby kick, back when it was just a gentle flutter rather than a legitimate kick. Oh, how he missed those days.Castiel had been concerned, his face pinched in worry with a hint of fear at his initial outburst. Then Sam had grabbed Castiel’s hands and pressed them against his then much smaller torso. The seraph’s eyes had visibly softened, a rarity on its own, but then he’d smiled. A real smile, not the sorta-smile that he gave on most occasions. His concern, however, never weened, especially when the bruises started to rise.“Castiel, I pray to thee to go ahead and boil my tea,” Sam playfully prays, keeping his eyes closed as he continues, “And perhaps if you’re feeling benevolent, put it into my to-go cup?”Castiel replies, sounding slightly exasperated, his voice resounding in his head,” The ginger tea, yes?”“Yes,” Sam confirms, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at his lips.When Sam finally managed to waddle down the stairs, Castiel was putting in five spoons full of sugar into the tea in Sam’s to-go cup. The simple gesture simultaneously warmed Sam’s heart and sent cold waves over him by turns. The angel was so attentive since discovering he was pregnant. While it mostly made him feel loved, occasionally he wondered if he was more of an oddity to him with the infinite cataloguing on his behaviors.Argos suddenly appears, a fresh coat of snow covering his fur. I saw a squirrel while relieving myself this morning. I chased it up a tree.Sam made a face, and asks, “And?”You are now short one tree. Argos barks. I wouldn’t worry though. You’ve got plenty around here.“You can’t just go around tearing up trees every time you see a squirrel,” Sam tries to sound serious, but he can’t hide the smile that pulls at his lips. 
Argos shakes off and lets out another bark. It’s not as if I can even make a dent in tree population. And squirrels are vermin, so they should be treated as such. Bug-eyed, buck-toothed, little bastards…
“I thought you were too proud a creature to chase after squirrels,” The cambion points out.Argos pokes out his tongue. I find myself having to resort to the average-dog methods, in order to entertain myself in your absence.“Cas,” Sam calls out, his hand still situated on his stomach, “Are you absolutely sure there is only one in here?”
“Male pregnancies are rare on their own, Sam. The chances of a male having twins is astronomical,” Castiel responds, one eyebrow raised, “Also, you’ve seen it for yourself at your various doctor appointments, since I am not to be trusted with that aspect of your pregnancy. You trust mere mortal technology which will likely expire or be replaced in the following years. Cold, metal, heartless… machinery.”
Sam is grinning now. “You sound… jealous?”
“Jealous. Jealous of what? I am merely perturbed that you chose a human doctor with a few decades of experience in child-bearing, when I have literal eons of experience! Need I remind you that I delivered one of the first children in existence?”
“That’s why you’re delivering him,” Sam points out, grabbing the to-go cup from Castiel’s waiting hands, “I’ve got to head to work in a few minutes. We’re still assembling that crib today, right?” The seraph nods and gives a menacing glare to the box in the corner, “Don’t worry, you won’t have to mess around with it that much. You just have to hand me tools and such, maybe give me the occasional hand.”
Castiel looks visibly relieved at that, and says, “Good.”
After living in such close quarters with the angel for the past few months, the cambion slowly began to notice that he hated using human tools and technology. Sam had been able to teach him how to use a lot of things in the kitchen, and a few of the things in the living room, but that was about it. And really the only technology he willingly used was the television. Though the seraph would never admit it, it was obvious he was quite fond of Netflix, particularly the television show Gilmore Girls. 
“So, what are you going to do while I’m gone?” Sam questions as he grabs his shoulder bag and keys from the coffee table.

“I have affairs in Heaven, but rest assured, I will be back on time to help you assemble the crib,” Sam opens his mouth to question further, when Castiel interrupts, “Privacy.”
“Privacy,” Sam says, before walking towards the door. He grabs his thick winter coat from the coat rack, pulls it on, then twists a scarf around his neck, “Dear God, I look like the whale that swallowed Jonah.”“That’s a common misconception. It was actually said to be a large fish, and I remind you that whales are mammals – ““Cas.”The angel’s vessel is cute, so no one ever tells him to shut his pie-hole. Argos huffs, laying on his paws. You really should educate him some more on, well, humans. 
“Right,” Castiel states with a little humor in his voice. Then any hint of it disappears as he changes the subject, “Sam, Dean has been sending out more prayers. He’s heard rumors of a new king presiding over hell, and well – He is known for making assumptions, Sam. He hasn’t heard from you in months, and I think that he’s afraid for you, especially with what he last saw of you…”

At those words, Sam recalls a scene he read in one of the Supernatural books Gabriel left him.

“I'm not some junkie,” Sam snaps.

“Really,” Dean scoffs, disbelieving. Then his tone turns sarcastic,” I guess I've just imagined how strung out you've been lately."
Sam lets out a false laugh, breathy and choked. His voice becomes louder as he brushes the hair out of his face and the sweat from his forehead, “You’re actually trying to twist this into some kind of ridiculous drug intervention?"

"If it smells like a duck,” His brother growls.
“Dean, I'm not drinking demon blood for kicks,” Sam exclaims, trying to keep his voice from rising higher, to keep it even as he stops pacing and re-approaches the door, “I’m getting strong enough to kill Lilith!"
"Strong?"
“Yeah!"“It's about as far away from strong as you can get,” The older Winchester hisses, and the younger throws his head, a muscle twinging by his mouth, “Try weak. Try desperate. Pathetic."Sam gulps, adjusting his bag over his shoulder, trying to hide the hurt from his voice, “Assure him that I didn’t just ditch him, so I could go hang out in the pit.” And with that he bows his head against the cold, harsh winds, and begins waddling to his car in the driveway.  
SPNSPN

There was a gate of rough wood as big as a cow and ivy cascaded over the fence, growing tendrils in every direction. The stone path was punctuated with weeds after every stone. The disheveled, un-manicured lawn was more moss with its dank and squishy surface. Clusters of defiant daffodils reared their golden heads amidst the gloom and there were smatters of fuchsia alongside the scarlet and saffron hued primroses.

In the middle of the neglected garden, there is a large apple tree that was probably meant to be the jewel of the garden. Whoever planted it likely thought they’d be drinking in the aromas of the late summer blooms and sinking their teeth into the delicate skin of home-grown organic apples. In the end, the tree that did grow was in no state to be the jewel of anything. The bark had a sort of creeping mildew and the leaves were curled in an unhealthy way. It bore apples of sort, some even with a pink blush, but they all bore deep brown spots.

Joshua is wearing a pair of old, worn gardening gloves, and he’s on his hands and knees, pulling weeds from the ground. Castiel is standing a few feet away, his arms dangling awkwardly at his sides. The gardener pulls out a particularly stubborn weed with a huff, then stands and dusts himself off. Immediately, the seraph straightens up in attentiveness, waiting for his fellow angel to address him.

“Castiel,” Joshua chides with a warm smile, “I still just trim the hedges as I always have. I have no more authority or power than I had before. The only thing that is different, is that our father believes that it is not wise to leave us completely alone. So, he wishes for me to relay his word to his children, so that they are not led astray once more.”

Castiel nods after a moment, and says, “I’d only just heard that you’d taken over Heaven. I’ve been busy these past few days.”
“Yes, busy with Sam Winchester,” Joshua acknowledges and motions to the space around him, “Our father speaks of him often. Almost as much as the child he carries in his womb. Is the child not the reason you are here?”
Nothing in the seraph’s face betrayed the sudden spike of fear, it was a mask of calm and surety, as he questions, “What does our father wish to do with the child? The nephilim?”
“You do know the history of nephilim, do you not, Castiel?”“I do,” Castiel confirms with a slight nod,” It is said, that entire worlds died at their hands causing them to be forbidden by the oldest laws of Heaven. As a result, they are considered to be unholy beings and abominations. But I believe this one –”
“And you know that carrying a nephilim is always fatal to the human carrier?”
“Sam is different. He is a cambion, and a powerful one at that. He’ll be able to carry his child, and later, raise him.”
Joshua’s brows creased and his face tensed. “Our father has already decided what is to be done with the child but let me ask you this. What do you think, Castiel?” Joshua asks, “Of Sam Winchester?”

“I have only known him for a brief time,” The seraph starts with an almost soft look in his eyes, “But, I see Sam Winchester as an idealist who somehow manages to always see the good in everyone, even monsters. Unlike his older brother, Sam is quiet and tireless, constantly in pursuit of making things better even when it seems things are the worst that they possibly could be. But what I or anyone else thinks of him does not matter because his actions speak for himself! He sacrificed his humanity, his very heart and soul, to save an ungrateful world! His reward? A dead lover and a fatherless child!”

He takes a step forward, before continuing, “And if my father has decided that Sam Winchester’s child is to be taken away, after all that single human has done for the very world that he abandoned… Then damn him! Damn him for abandoning us and still expecting us to follow his outdated rules… The one thing he left behind for us, his own children.”
The angel’s mouth is a thin line as he states, “That is why our father has commanded that not a single hair on the child’s head is to be touched. No one is going to harm your human friend or his offspring.”

“…What?” The seraph questions.

“The nephilim is safe, my friend. No angel in heaven will lay a finger on him or his remaining father,” Joshua reassures with a warm look in his eyes,”Believe it or not, Castiel, our father does still listen. He speaks of Sam often because he finds him to be… interesting. He went against everything that he himself put down in the beginning and still won. Sure, he had some help, but he alone conquered the first demon and averted the apocalypse. He admires your friend a great deal and I don’t believe he wants anything to happen to him.”

“Good,” Castiel hisses, “If anyone deserves a single moment of peace, it is Sam Winchester. But, tell me, does he even mention his own sons?”

“Our father mourns just as any father would,” Joshua states with a slight shrug as if the answer is obvious,”We all like to think of him as this entity that is distant, separate from us… but we seem to forget that we are made in his image. Whatever we can do, he can.”
“Can he not just bring them back?”
The angel huffs in an aggravation and points out,”Castiel I would have you know that I am not a messenger bird.”

The seraph nods slowly and apologizes,”Forgive me. I expect many angels demand answers out of you.”

“And I wish I could provide them, but our father and I do not just talk endlessly,” Joshua explains as he looks at some birds splashing about in a bird bath.

Castiel follows the latter’s gaze and inquires,”So, Sam and his child are safe?”

“Yes. But despite that, I have been worried for your friend because as you can see, his garden has not been kept. Everything here rots and fades in time with him. I’ve been trying to do some upkeep myself, but I’m afraid I may have to uproot everything, and just start all over.”

“Gabriel’s death took quite the toll on him. I did not realize the state of human’s soul, affected their Heaven,” Castiel ponders aloud.

“Why wouldn’t it? It is his heaven after all,” Joshua states pulling back on his gardening gloves,”It’s shame to uproot everything because before it was the most breath taking garden of all. But I suppose with a chance to start a new, it can still be that… But even then –“

“What? What is it, Joshua?”

Joshua has already begun to dig his gloved hands back into the earth, but at the other angel’s questioning he tenses. “Your friend’s future is cloudy to me, brother,” He confesses,”Our father may not have him killed deliberately, but I cannot guarantee that he will survive long into the future.”
“No, no,” Castiel utters, the corners of his lips twitching. His face was blank as a slate, but for an angel, he might as well have been shedding tears,”Tell me it is not so.”

“I would not lie to you, Castiel. What I say is true, but I do not know how or when or if it will even still happen. These things are in constant motion, never the same for too long. But, what I do know is that many dangers lie ahead; foes that have yet to reveal themselves,” The angel begins to dig into the dirt again, and continues,”Now, I just pray that you are able to protect your friend.”

Castiel’s angel blade was dull. He had to make it sharper. He knew the drill. He'd been trained well as a fledgling. Extending his palm forward, the seraph’s flesh pulsed a dull blue as he hovered it over the dull edge of the blade. And then he strikes it.
The strikes on his angel blade were sharp, jagged as he dragged the blade. Had to make it sharper. An extension of his own grace, his being. The hilt digs into his leg as he watches as little pieces of silver glitter slip to the floor. He’s making it stronger, not blunt, nor soft.
Something was flying around his head.
A bug, he cannot recall which kind.Castiel contemplated simply smiting it, and then he changed his mind.

Buzzz.

In one swift movement, Castiel launched an attack, piercing the bug on the very tip of his newly sharpened blade. He took a deep breath, wrinkled his nose, and brushed off the now dead bug. He then polished the blade with the edge of his trench coat’s sleeve but he didn’t continue sharpening it. He presses the cool, rounded hilt to his forehead. It feels right. Because after all, Castiel is a bit like a blade himself.Castiel is like his weapon in many ways. They had both no choice. They both lived for the kill and nothing more. Hardened. Indifferent. Still, the two of them could still shine and look so beautiful. Deceitful. Exactly how they were created. And now they were both dull and useless.What use was Castiel if he could not save the one thing on this beautiful, horrible world that he considered a friend? 
SPNSPN
Bound in red leather, cracked and dry with age, the thin volume smells faintly of pipe tobacco and dust. The pages within are brittle and what remains of the book’s original stitching is barely holding it together. Sam Winchester was sifting through the pages, every so once in a while glancing at his laptop in front of him. One of the many attorneys at the firm, needed to prepare for trial by verifying the facts associated with a case. Which of course was Sam’s job. So, now he was having to research laws and previous cases that might influence how the attorney formulates his argument for the courtroom.Sam glances up from his work at a brief knock on the door. The woman that walked in could have graced any billboard or magazine cover, but she was better than those two dimensional photoshopped models. She looked like the kind of young woman his brother would lure into their motel room with a pick-up line and a charming smile. Yet there was a shyness to her, hesitation in her body movements and a softness in her voice.“You’re Mr. Wesson? Strange, I was expecting a crusty old man on the brink of death,” The young woman jokes, her eyes raking up and down his upper half. Her smile is extremely flirtatious, so she clearly likes what she sees, until he stands up revealing his distended abdomen, “A-and pregnant. Oh, God. I am so, so sorry – ““It’s fine, really. I am Mr. Wesson, is there something I can help you with Miss – “ 
“Lyle. Rebekah Lyle.”
Sam smiled at the girl and stuck out his hand,” Oh Rebekah, you’re the new attorney, aren’t you? It’s nice to finally meet you. And yes, I am pregnant and feeling very much so.”The young woman shook the man’s hand hesitantly, “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Wesson. I’ve heard a lot about you too. I didn’t expect you to be so tall…or so…”“Pregnant?” Sam questions with a raised brow.Rebekah responds with a nervous laugh. “Well, I just needed to grab some files, and I’ll be on my way…” She went to one of the many filing cabinets, and began combing through them, before pulling out a few, “I – I’ll just… Go, and, uh… It was nice to meet you.” “Oh, bye – “Then Sam was alone again, much to his relief. He’d been putting off this particular case for a while, so he needed to finish it as soon as possible. Though he was considering taking a lunch break with a couple of the lawyers from upstairs. Most of them were fresh out of law school or middle-aged, that were genuinely nice, maybe a little too nice to him sometimes. Whenever he declined having lunch with them, they usually brought him something in a to-go box with a smile. Their “niceness” was ridiculous before he was really showing, but once he revealed that little detail to the whole workplace almost everyone backed off.Almost as if summoned, Stephen Hyde and John Sheridan, two of the younger lawyers in the firm walked side-by-side into Sam’s office. Stephen slaps down a towering pile of files, and then sets down two to-go boxes in a plastic bag beside it. John, smiling apologetically, sets down his own massive stack of files. Sam is tempted to take both piles and shove them up both their asses, and from his expression, he makes this very evident.Stephen quickly tries to reason with the pregnant man, “Look, I know that I brought them a little late – ““Pretty damn late,” Sam interjects with a scoff.“But,” Stephen reasons, scooting the two to-go boxes closer to Sam,” I also brought you lunch, so that you wouldn’t have to waddle down to the hamburger joint with us. It’s like my old man used to tell me, ‘A lunch a day, keeps the angry pregnant person away’. Plus, John didn’t even bring any compensation.”The cambion rolls his eyes, and begins sifting through the boxes, “Bacon cheeseburger with everything on it? Extra-salty fries?”“And dessert,” Stephen states,” Two slices of apple-pie, still warm.”“You’re forgiven,” Sam declares practically drooling, “And John, next time you wait to slap some files on my desk until halfway through the day, and don’t bring anything to make up for it, I’m tossing them out the window.”John gives him another apologetic smile, before replying,” Yeah, sorry about that, man. It just completely slipped my mind.”Sam sighs, and turns in his rolling chair to situate the files on his desk. The two men are about to leave when Sam asks, “Did you guys not tell the new girl that I’m pregnant?”“Well, we tried to tell her man, but she thought we were pulling her leg,” John says with a snort.Stephen bats his eyelashes, intertwines his fingers together, and declares in a high-pitched voice, “What? A big handsome man like that can’t be gay. Why, it’s a crime against womanhood! Oh, I see, you’re pulling my leg, aren’t you? You just have to be,” He pulls out an invisible lipstick tube, and huffs,” Nice try boys, but The Beckster is going mountain climbing. If you know what I mean – “The cambion’s cheeks burn bright red as he sputters, “She did not say that!”“Nope,” Stephen states with a goofy grin, “But she might as well have. We’ll see you later, Wesson.”Later,” John says with a little wave, following his friend out the door.Oddly enough, Crowley was the one who helped Sam settle down and get a whole new life and identity. The fact that he could get away with a fake name and altered past, without anyone else finding him, was all thanks to the demon. Even if the cambion had some experience with hacking, and he learned and gotten better with years of practice, he had never done something like creating a new identity. The demon had set everything up for him, and he did it so flawlessly never had any problems with his fake life.“Consider it a favor for not doing me in the second I stepped foot on your property. Also, for even allowing me to have the throne – A position that has been rightfully yours since before your bloody existence was even fathomed – ““Crowley,” Sam said, glancing up from the bucket of russet brown he was using to outline the walls of his son’s nursery,” You know I have no interest in ever taking my ‘rightful place’ on the throne. That was path Azazel and his gang tried to carve for me, and trust me, I am more than happy to stray from it. Besides, in case you haven’t noticed I’ve got bigger things on my plate at the moment,” He pats his baby bump, “Literally.”
The demon snorted, and responded, “You have put on quite a bit of weight. I pity the termites beneath these floorboards. They’re probably in the mind that their own Apocalypse is about to occur.” Sam just flipped him the bird and went back to outlining the wall.
“Curious thing humans, Heaven remains untouched and unchanged since the beginning of time. I leave for three hours and you redecorate,” Castiel says, suddenly appearing beside the demon,” Crowley.”
“Feathers.”

“Yes, leave the pregnant man to paint, while you two exchange intense smolders and glares,” Sam mutters. Castiel shoots him an apologetic look and grabs a paint brush. Then both of them look at the demon expectantly.

Crowley scoffs and holds his hands up. “I can send a couple of grunts over to help, but there is no bloody way -“ Sam flashes his yellow eyes and scowls,”But if you insist.”

Castiel’s lips twitch in amusement and he hands the demon a paint brush. Crowley mutters under his breath but snatches the brush from the latter’s grip. Then all of them get to painting.
In all honesty, Sam was a little overqualified for his job as a legal researcher at the firm he worked at. But he had never gone to law school, so he didn’t have the confidence to fake the qualifications of being a lawyer. He could at least say his three and a half years at Stanford University equated to being qualified as a legal researcher, not to mention his years of being the go-to researcher as a hunter. Though he was considering doing some online classes after the baby was able to start school. As his brother had so adequately put it throughout the years, he’s just trying to live an “apple pie life”.Sam never wanted to be found, hell, he didn’t even want there to be the slightest chance that he ever could be. But thanks to Crowley, Samuel Wesson had an impeccable past. The cambion wanted to be able to live the remainder of eternity with some semblance of a normal life with his son. He knew his little family was never going to be entirely normal, he was hopeful not delusional, but he wanted for his son to grow up with something he never had. Stability. And he couldn’t have that if he ever saw his brother again.Sam tried making excuses whenever Castiel brought up the subject. He said that he was afraid of how his brother would react to him trying to live a normal life again, to giving up hunting. That he wouldn’t accept his son - He wasn’t human, so god knows what he’d do. Hell, his brother doesn’t even know that he can get pregnant! A fertility test had been done at his middle school, years earlier, and when the results had come back positive, he’d forged his father’s signature and swore to himself never to speak of it again. But in the end, that’s all they were... excuses. The truth was he wanted to separate himself entirely from his former life. He felt like butter spread over too much bread, and he just wanted to get away from all the violence and pain that was his past. ‘Selfish,’ He thinks to himself.While thinking, his fingers found a way under his shirt and sweater, curling around the warm distention of his stomach. Sam caught himself doing it but didn’t stop the gesture. He glanced at the clock and decided since he already had lunch sitting in front of him, he might as well go ahead and take his break. Though for him, it was less of a break, and more of way of switching gears. He had more work to do, just nothing legal related. He sifted through his shoulder bag before pulling out the large leather-bound journal at that bottom.Sam untied the leather tassels that hung from the sides and opened the journal. He’d finished the Supernatural series, the books that chronicled what had happened in an alternate-timeline. Although, he was still trying to sort out some of the smaller details of how the two timelines were different. As an avid reader he was exceptionally good at picking up unresolved plot points or characters that hadn’t even been mentioned again. Luckily, Gabriel had left behind a journal explaining some of the things Sam couldn’t find out just from reading. And the cambion had been making it a point to go through all of these little notes.As he reads and jots down notes, he digs into his lunch. If he could have opened his mouth any wider, he would have eaten the burger in one bite. As it was, he took off half of it in one massive bite. Then he gulped it down and without pausing to breathe he took another swinging bite at the rest of the burger.
“You did this to me,” Sam accuses looking down at his stomach. He just gets a rough kick as a response.

SPNSPN
 
Castiel didn't even know why he was watching Gilmore Girls. He didn't laugh when he was supposed to, he didn't feel any tension during the drama, he barely followed the plot. His eyes rested back on the flickering screen and found that in his brief distraction the commercials had begun. Often, he preferred them to the show. They were short, attention grabbing and required no intellectual effort. Once they were over his mind turned to the sleeping man on the couch. Sam had gotten home from work late, again, and had promptly collapsed onto the couch with a loud, exasperated groan. Then, within mere seconds, he was snoring.

Castiel hadn’t even noticed until he commented that one of the television show’s characters, Dean Forester, looked awfully similar to Sam. When that didn’t illicit a reply or even a snort, the seraph looked over and settled his gaze on the cambion. When he was asleep, he lay as still as a brick, his arms settled protectively over the swell of his child. The only movement was the slight rise and fall of his chest. In sleep he was angelic, his face as fresh as a dew drop, making gentle snuffling noises as he breathed.
Argos is fast asleep at his master’s feet, his legs twitching ever so often. Castiel gently picks up the corgi and settles him on the chair where he’d been sitting, which is already warm due to his vessel’s body heat. The dog rolls over and grumbles a bit but settles back to sleep. The seraph then turned to the cambion and placed one arm around his back and the other arm around the bend in his knees. He was about to lift him, up when he felt a gentle pat on his shoulder. The angel looks down, his arms still holding the latter close to his chest, and he sees a pair of tired eyes blinking back at him.
“You know I’m still capable of walking up a pair of stairs,” Sam murmurs, a wry smile on his face.

“I am aware of this,” Castiel says softly, still holding him close. His eyes travel towards the latter’s distended stomach again, this time settling on the shadows of bruises peaking from underneath his shirt, “But you shouldn’t have to.”

Sam follows Castiel’s gaze, and quickly pulls his shirt down. “Cas,” He utters, “You know that you don’t owe me anything, right?”
“…I owe you everything. Sam, you saved the world, and in a way you saved me.”Sam shook his head, and whispers,”We saved each other.”Nonetheless Castiel pulled his arms away, allowing Sam to settle back down on the couch. Abruptly, Sam wrapped an arm around Castiel’s shoulders and pulled him close, gently leaning his head into his neck. The embrace was light, his stubble glazed his neck, and for a brief moment his lips brushed against his neck. The seraph was stiff, appreciative of the simple gesture, but not sure how to respond.Almost as if reading his mind Sam’s chest rumbles as he laughs,” It’s a hug, Cas. You’re supposed to hug me back.”So, that’s what Castiel does. Castiel wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer. Despite the heavy uncomfortableness of Sam’s stomach, something inside him fluttered at the feeling of another body pressed against his. He sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the touch. Then both of them pull apart, their arms still touching as they turn simultaneously to the window. Outside the wind howled, piling up snow in drifts, blinding the night with ice-white dust.“What are you thinking about?” Castiel inquires turning to Sam as he tilts his head up and presses his lips together.“Those books that Gabriel left for me,” Sam answers crossing his arms over his chest,”I was thinking about the things he did to make the outcome different this time around. I mean, there are some names in the books that haven’t even popped up. One of them that caught my eye was Zachariah. He was an angel that was meant to influence my brother and I to say ‘yes’ to Lucifer and Michael.”The seraph’s brows furrowed and he says,”Zachariah has been dead for quite a while now, Sam. He was one of the first to disappear when we were initially sent to earth,” He tilts his head to the side and asks,”Do you think that early on in his time-traveling, Gabriel began to eliminate figures he deemed as threats to his plans?”“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” The cambion confirms with a nod,”We need to look into this further – Ah! Castiel?” At that instant, his child began to kick up a storm and Sam gasped sharply. He stroked his stomach, trying to calm down his baby, instead getting more kicks in return.
Argos perks his head up, his ears flattening on his head as he lets out a soft snarl. I smell something approaching.

“Michael,” Castiel breathes.
The angel can feel him in the air, a presence entirely separate from those of his other older brothers. Lucifer was the most prideful and avaricious, Raphael was the most ruthless and imperious, and Gabriel was the most mischievous and deceptive. But Michael is the mightiest and the most loyal archangel. The oldest archangel felt like a solitary star in the darkest night, a pin hole in a dark canvas; he was Light.“Samuel Winchester, I wish to speak to you, alone. Meet me in the Telluride Town Park,” The archangel’s voice is calm, but unwavering with a finality to it.
"I knew this day would come,” Sam states, gently pulling his arm away from Castiel’s,”Cas... you can’t come with me.”
The seraph turns to the cambion, his eyes hardened, “Where you go, I go. I have sworn myself to your side."“...If it is your choice to come with me, then I could not wish for a better or braver companion."The park was covered in a thick blanket of white, statutes peeked out under their new white caps, footsteps and paw prints crisscrossed each other around the labyrinth of paths. Aside from the brown of the denuded trees, the only other color was the vivid saffron staining around the base of each lamppost, tree, and shrub. Michael is sitting on the park bench alone, wearing a nameless, faceless vessel.
“I was expecting Sam… alone,” Michael utters his mouth a thin line.

Castiel keeps a protective hand on Sam’s arm as he responds,” Sam is here as am I. He wished for me to be with him.”
“Did he?” Michael inquires, one eyebrow raised, “He has a better sense of humor than I thought. This seraph has no business being here. By all rights, I should snap my fingers and be done with him.”
Castiel narrows his eyes and steps in front of Sam. “And I would gladly put down my life for him.”
"You mean me to believe this..." Michael made a vague gesture at Sam who was beginning to feel less nervous and more peeved,”Averted the apocalypse, preventing the release of my brother? That he protected the seals? Killed the white-eyed demon herself? He can't even speak to me without hiding behind his pet.”
Michael sneered at Castiel whose face grew even more thunderous. The seraph looked about ready to draw his angel blade when Sam had just about enough. The cambion placed a hand on the angel’s shoulder before placing himself once again in front of him. Then he placed a hand on his impressively sized stomach and fixed the archangel with a glare; his eyes flowed yellow.

“In case you don’t remember, Michael, you were noticeably absent throughout the entire ordeal. So, you know nothing, nothing, of what I went through - of what all of us - went though. You stood by and watched like some sort of sick spectator as two of your brothers were killed, and for what? The apocalypse? Lucifer defied your father and betrayed you, but he was already locked away for what he did - There was no point to the entire damn thing,” He takes a shaking breath and slowly his yellow eyes dull. He turns to the angel standing behind him,”And he is not my pet! He is one of the few angels that was willing to defy your will and your father’s so that my world could live! So, that my brother and I could be spared a fate far worse then death... being tied to you and your brother as you tore each other apart. I will not stand by while you insult my friend with your ignorance!”

Castiel looked to be caught between a mix of surprise at Sam’s outburst and wanting to vacate the premise as soon as possible. There were several moments of tense silence while the cambion quietly contemplated how many times in the last few months his mouth had almost gotten him killed and a few times it had. The cambion kept his arms crossed and his face stone cold, but couldn't help imagining the numerous ways an archangel could make him regret his little outburst.

Michael’s face was impassive as he seemed to consider Sam before he let out a soft laugh. "And now, Sam Winchester, I am slightly more inclined to believe that you averted the apocalypse. You have spirit for such a... fickle thing. I respect that,” Amused, he simply says, “Please, both of you sit.”

“I'd rather stand,” Sam states his hand rubbing the underside of his stomach, “Now tell me, why did you call me here, Michael?”

“Because I have just one question: Why?” Michael questions staring up at Sam with a neutral expression, “Why go to such lengths to prevent an event that has been planned, formulated since the beginning? The apocalypse was my destiny, and I have a right to know, why you did what you did.”

“Why not?” Sam asks.
“That's not an answer,” Michael hisses. “Oh, yes, it is. It's simply not an answer you like, or the answer you expected. There's a difference. Humans, angels, demons, we all do what we do for the same reason: because it seemed like a promising idea at the time,” Sam explains, “But now I know that there is a harsh and bitter truth behind it, all of it. Castiel I want you to go back to the house and retrieve all of the books Gabriel left me.”Castiel looked hesitant, but after a moment he nodded. There was a ruffle of feathers and then he was holding the chest full of books. The seraph hands the box to the archangel. The cambion, noticing the archangel’s puzzled looks explains, “These books, they’ll answer any other questions you have. When you’re done with them bring them back, and then we’ll talk again.”“And if I don’t want to talk?” Michael allows the open threat to linger in the air.“So be it,” Sam grits out, his eyes flashing yellow, “But you will leave my son out of it. I don’t give a flying royal shit about what happens to me, but if you lay a single goddamn finger on my son… I will dig a hole straight to hell and shove you in the cage with your piss-ant of a brother myself.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

April 1, 2009
Lucifer is tracing the edge of a scalpel against the lower half of his swell. Lucifer is bored, and he’s tired of waiting, so he decides that it’s best to just go ahead and cut it out, so he can “keep that bikini body”. He felt the hot blood pooling around him, making him want to scream and throw up at the same time. The liquid running down his body, splashing onto the floor, was inescapable and made him feel like he was sinking into it.He suddenly got the sensation that he was being pulled away against his will. The image of the devil’s glowing red eyes shifted dizzyingly around him, and he felt completely disoriented. In a flash, the darkness dissipated, and his eyes flew open. Though his eyes are open he can't think of why; his heart is pounding, mind empty. It's as if a hypodermic of adrenaline has been emptied into his carotid.Sam sat up slowly, to find himself in his bed, in the cabin in Telluride, Colorado. His sheets are a tangled mess around his legs, and his breathing is ragged and uneven. He grasped mentally to gain his bearings. He strains into the utter darkness, breathing rate beginning to steady. His hand runs down his face, and he feels a wetness around his eyes; he still couldn’t shake the feeling of sitting in his own blood.“He’s not here. He’s trapped. Trapped,” Sam repeats that one word over and over again like a mantra,” Trapped. Trapped. Trapped – “ He closed his eyes and let his head drop into his hands. He tried to focus on pushing the nightmare away, until he shifts and feel the wetness underneath him.Untangling himself from his sheets, and peeling back his quilt, Sam realizes that there’s something wet and clammy soaking into his pajama bottoms and into the mattress. And oh yes, there it is – a twinge in his lower abdomen – somewhere in between a little too much to eat and a knife in the stomach. His breaths come in gasps and he feels like he’s going to black out. His heart is hammering inside his chest like it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin.“Cas!” Sam scrambled back against the headboard, gripping his stomach tightly as panic builds up in his chest, “Castiel!” There was a ruffle of wings and suddenly Castiel was by his side, his hand settled on Sam’s knee. He cocked his head at Sam in a concerned searching manner, his hand gripping his knee tightly. “M-my water broke a-and – !”Castiel gently runs his fingers through Sam’s hair trying to calm him down as he utters, “Sam, I need you to change into a fresh pair of clean clothes, then situate yourself in one of the guest bedrooms. I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.”Sam chokes out,” W-where are you… g-going?” Castiel had to smile a little at that and started rubbing Sam’s swollen belly with his free hand to calm him down and assure him that everything would be fine.“I have to get things ready, Sam,” Castiel says, his hand halting on the slightly dampened curls at the base of his neck, “There is no need to be afraid of what’s happening now. We both knew it would happen soon and we are prepared for everything. So, you need to lean back and relax for a while. Even so, I have made sure that we are prepared for any possible contingency that may occur. A young fledgling, Samandriel, will be on stand-by should I need help – “Suddenly, Sam grabbed Castiel’s necktie and yanked him down into his face. "You listen to me, you feathered jack-ass, you are not letting some stranger look down there – Fuck,” He threw him aside with a surprisingly strong shove that sent the angel sprawling backward across the floor, “God, fine, just – fuck – hurry up!”Castiel stood back up, dusted himself, and nodded, “I will not abandon you, Sam. I’ll be there for everything, and I will do anything, anything that I can for you.”Sam gasped in pain and suddenly took Castiel’s hand in a painfully tight grip, “It hurts…”“I know it does, Sam. I know. Sam,” Castiel starts softly, with a pitying gaze as he starts to run his fingers through the latter’s hair again, "I realized, I never told you how much faith I have in you, how much you mean to me. I think it's time you knew that."
Castiel gives him that sorta-smile and squeezes his hand before disappearing with a ruffle of feathers, leaving Sam alone to struggle out of his damp clothes and quickly rinse off in the shower. He started digging around for something clean, and quickly decided on a pair of loose sweat pants and a massive sweatshirt. It takes twice as long as usual to maneuver with his giant belly constantly in the way, but eventually he manages. The cambion started moaning and grunting oddly as the pain intensified. He tried evening out his breathing as he made his way into one of the many guest rooms and situated himself onto the bed. And then, he just waited.
The contractions kept coming faster and stronger, and the minutes just seem to keep dragging on and on. Sam was propped up on a bunch of pillows with hot compresses situated on his inner thighs. The cambion let out another groan as turned onto his side, and the seraph started to massage his aching lower back. The seraph cautiously held onto the cambion’s trembling shoulders as he began to try and sit up. “I need to walk – Cas, please, help me up,” Sam threw his legs over the side of the mattress, and quickly pulled his sweatpants back up before Castiel could see anything.“Be careful,” Castiel says gently as he pulled him to his feet and steadied him.Sam nodded. “I’m good. Now let’s…” He cried out when a sharp pain jolted through his lower half and would have slumped onto the floor if the latter hadn’t been grabbing his upper arms so tightly, “I-I’m fine, that one just caught me off guard.”Then something sounds in his head. Push.“I need… push…”“Sam, don't push yet! You're not ready," Castiel shouted fretfully."I h-have to…”The voice continues to urge Sam. Push. Push. Push.“Breathe! Fast pants. Don't strain. You aren't fully dilated.""Fuck, it hurts!" But Sam tried to work on his breathing. Castiel was nodding like Sam was doing something good, so he kept figuring out how to breathe normally again.Castiel squeezes Sam’s hand tight and he shook his head, “It’s far too early. You’ve only been in labor for a short while,” He carefully guided him back into the bed. The contraction hadn’t eased off, telling by the pained expression on Sam’s pale face, “Don’t push, yet.”“Cas,” Sam groaned and bent his knees, bearing down because the urge to do so was too strong to fight. The tendons on his neck stood out clearly with the effort of pushing and he was making feeble whimpering noises.Castiel watched on with a deep frown as Sam lowered himself down beside the bed as he screws his eyes shut. His face is bright red from exhortation before he gave a low, pained moan. Sam balled up his fists as he felt the muscles underneath his tightened, large belly constrict. “C-Cas …oh fuck. I want to get on the exercise ball…please.”Castiel nods and rolls over the large plastic ball. As Sam slowly lowers himself into a sitting position on the giant ball, the angel rubbed the small of his friend’s back, keeping him steady as he began to rotate ever so slightly. The cambion keeps two hands on his stomach and slowly rotate from the left to the right. The seraph takes one of his hands, keeping his free hand on the small of the cambion’s back as he keeps moving.
“It’ll all be over soon, Sam. Just breathe.” Sam only cried out in reply as the pain of another contraction ripped through his stomach. He bought a hand to his tight stomach, rubbing it softly and leaned his head against the angel’s chest.

Castiel settled both of his hands-on Sam’s stomach before his friend stopped moving on the exercise ball and he panted heavily. The seraph gave a deep frown as the cambion bit back a loud groan. “I can prepare you some more warm compresses to put between your thighs,” Castiel offers.
“Yes, God, yes,” Sam grounded out, panting softly before he held back from pushing. “Samandriel,” Castiel closes his eyes and prays.
 A flutter of wings and suddenly a young man is standing in front of the bed. He’s wearing a red and white stripped Weiner Hut uniform with a name tag that reads: Alfie. The angel nervously adjusts his hat and gives the two a smile, before introducing himself,” Hello, I’m Samandriel, but you can just call me by my vessel’s name – Alfie.”

“Hello, I am Castiel,” Castiel responds with a nod of his head,” And this is Sam Winchester. I’ve heard remarkable things about you from Joshua. He says you’re one of the best healers he has to offer.”
Alfie grins, and exclaims,” Did he really? I mean, I’ve had the proper training, of course, and I was the best in my class, but I could never, ever exceed your skills! I’ve heard many tales about your skills of healing on the battle lines!”“I apologize. I believe he is what you humans refer to as a ‘fan-boy’,” Castiel mutters with a sheepish look.
"I don’t care," Sam huffed in pain,” As long as I get to crush both of your hands." 
 
SPNSPN
  
Alfie cringed under the crushing grip that threatened to break every bone in his hand. "Ow, ow, ow, ow,” He yelps and turns to the other angel,” I’ve heard of the strength of a cambion, but no mere tale could – Ow!”
Castiel’s face drew up in agony as Sam squeezed his other hand. "You could've...trimmed...your nails...Sam,” He squeezes it back, and takes a breath,” Deep breathes, Sam.”“It's not time to push," Alfie told him brusquely,"If you don't listen to what Castiel tells you, you'll hurt yourself."“Get. It. Out!" Sam shouts not even flinching as nearly every piece of glass in the room shattered. The window was now a gaping mess and snow quickly began to gather on the sill.Alfie covered the closer ear with his free hand, and mumbles,” No one warned me to bring earplugs."Castiel dared to take another look between Sam’s spread thighs. “Sam,” The seraph’s voice is riddled with guilt as began running his hand up and down the cambion’s trembling back, “Your son is eager to come out. All right, the baby's head is already in position. It's all pushing from here out."
“Cas,” Sam gasps out as Castiel quickly takes his hand, giving it a tight reassuring squeeze as the other settles on the dampened curls on the back of his neck, “I-it’s happening too fast… I don’t think I can do it without him – “
Castiel gently runs his fingers through Sam’s hair again, and states, “I know that you are afraid, Sam, but there is nothing to be afraid of. I am here, and as long as I am, I will not let anything happen to you or your child. And you alone are strong, so much stronger than you give yourself credit for,” He smiles gently and says, “I believe humans have a saying: Giving birth to a baby is easier than worrying about it.""No offense to past sages," Sam huffed, "But the idiot who said that never pushed a boulder out of his - ...ahhhh!”Alfie winced again and uses his free hand to settle it on Sam’s forehead. “It’s alright, Sam,” A dull glow emitted from his hand and the latter’s breathing slowed,” This will calm you, take your pain, if only for a little while. Just long enough for you to regather your strength.”
“T-thank you,” Sam whispers, his fingers grazing against the young angel’s.
“Sam,” Castiel said softly. He wrapped two strong hands around his friend’s shoulders,” Alfie, you’re the better healer, despite your modesty. Help my friend.”Alfie’s lips part in awe before, he nods in understanding and takes a position between Sam’s legs. “Let’s bring a child into this world.”Not even half an hour later, a final cry filled the room as Sam collapsed back into Castiel’s arms. “Look, Sam,” The seraph whispered into his ear,” You did it. Your child is here.”Alfie had briskly taken the baby away, to clean it properly. He returned with a wrapped and quiet bundle, handing him off to the seraph. Castiel goes to lower the bundle into Sam’s arms when he tenses. Black filled the edges of Sam’s vision and the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. The pain that once burned like fire had faded away to an icy numbness. His breath came in ragged, shallow gasps.“S-Sam?” Castiel whispers, holding the bundle closer to his chest.Sam parts his lips to say something, but nothing comes out. His skin had turned a pale color, his hair sticking to his forehead as sweat dripped down. Laying his head back slowly, he rested his eyes towards the ceiling above him. His eyesight blurred, but not because of the tears that were welling up. Everything became fuzzy; then he saw nothing at all.“Sam!” 
SPNSPN

Thunder roared above, lighting up the covered sky for a moment and flashing painful white from the man’s clothes. The man almost tenses almost as if he senses someone watching him and after a second, he emits a cold, mirthless laugh. He slowly turns on one heel, his long brown hair swaying gently in the moist wind.
He has chiseled jaw with a lax, lush pink set of lips set in a thin line. His eyes are a stunning hazel, so much like his own, and he has soft, feather-like brown hair. It was then Sam realized, he was staring into his own face, despite the blatant differences. Suddenly his doppleganger’s eyes are the color of crimson and they twinkled as his lips slowly pulled into a smirk.“Hello, Sam.”In a flash, the scene dissipated, and his eyes flew open. Though his eyes are open he can't think of why, so he closes them again, his heart is pounding, mind empty.“Sam?” A voice asks uncertainly. He felt hands gently patting his face, thumbs running over his cheekbones.Sam’s eyes opened again, his eyelashes faintly batting against his lids when he blinked. His eyes slowly shifted up and immediately he meets the blue hues of his angel friend. The cambion used to believe the angel’s glacier eyes were ice cold, that they knew no warmth and never shared it. That's what he used to believe. But he knew his stare wasn’t always intentionally cold, his face just lacked the mobility others had. His eyes would rest on a point, even a person, and he'd stay like longer than the average person would.Castiel’s eyes, however, were anything but cold in that moment. They were warm as a sunned cat as he stared at Sam and gave him a silent sorta-smile. Sam, disregarding his silent smile, continued to stare at him wild-eyed. He begins to sit up in the bed, but the latter places hand on his chest and pushes him back down.“Rest,” Castiel says firmly.Sam lays back down and starts to close his eyes again. Even under a light cotton sheet he was radiating heat like a brick right out of the oven. Castiel realized this as he placed a hand on his forehead and frowned in worry. Alfie walks in, gently rocking the baby in his arms. His eyes settle on the man settled in the bed and he asks, “Is there anything I can do?”“We’ve both done all the healing we can do. What you can do, is settle the child in his room to sleep for a short while. Then come back here and change the sheets and blankets,” Castiel answers softly, running his fingers through Sam’s damp hair.“Consider it done,” Alfie says with a worried expression, “Will he be alright?”“Sam’s body is still attempting to repair itself without much success so far. I’ve already lost him once, but I won’t be losing him again.”The seraph sees no other choice but to resort to hunter methods of breaking a fever, so he makes his way into the kitchen, scouting the various pantries until he can find a large bucket. Then he fills the bucket with ice from the refrigerator and dumps it into the guest room’s bathtub, over and over again until it was full.The angel scoops up the cambion like he weighs nothing, because to an angel he basically does. He deposits him in the icy water, gently splashing it over his still feverish skin. he human groans softly, not quite coming to full awareness yet – The human lunges forward, a bellowing gasp of air escaping him, before he stumbles back into the tub again, a splash of icy water going over the angel.“Wh-w-what t-the f-f-fff-fu-fuuuu-cc –“Sam was shaking so badly he couldn’t even curse without nearly biting off his own tongue.Castiel clings to Sam’s drenched shirt collar, eyes wide as he watches the man cough and shiver miserably. He helps the human out of the frigid water, and helped him onto the toilet, wrapping him in every spare towel he could find. With purple lips tinged with blue and gently chattering teeth Sam wrapped the layers of cloth around himself tighter.
“W-wh-what hap-pp-happened,” The cambion chokes out, his soaking wet hair shaping against his pale face.
“You passed out again with a fever,” The seraph explains, “I had to break it or you were no doubt going to die – Again,” He clears his throat, “I didn’t want that to happen a second time, so I did what… Dean would have done.”Still shivering, Sam laughs,” T-t-that’s n-not a-al-always t-the s-s-smart t-th-thing t-to do.”"I was… scared," Castiel says, "I thought you were going to die again, and I — I don’t know what I would have done.”Sam was suddenly feeling warmer and he knew that he was blushing. Castiel begun to confront his own thoughts and emotions as there clearly was something wrong with him for reacting completely different than he usually did, it felt more personal. He felt oblivious to the obviousness of what these feelings might actually be – Human. And still foreign to him.“Wait… I died?” Sam rasps as he begins to stand, “I-I don’t remember anything…”Castiel placed his hands on his trembling shoulders, holding him steady. “Initially, yes. Even with Alfie and I healing you to the best of our capabilities you still wouldn’t… It does not matter,” He led him to the newly made bed, and awkwardly helped him into the fresh set of pajamas laid out for him, “Your body eventually managed to repair itself, enough to where you could at least gain consciousness. There is still a lot to fix, so you will need to rest for a good while.”Sam felt like a child as Castiel pulled to the shirt over his head, but he was too exhausted to object. He even let the seraph tuck him into the bed. “Cas,” Sam whispers, his voice choking up,”C-can I see him? Is he alright…?”“Your son is perfectly healthy, Sam,” The seraph reassures him, setting a hand on his head. Still a little warm, but he’d be fine with some rest. He places two fingers on his forehead and a dull glow emits from them, “Rest for a while… Then you can see him.” SPNSPN 
On April 1, 2009 Sam Winchester and Gabriel’s son is born. He’s just right, eight pounds and thirteen ounces, but most importantly he’s healthy. Though he’s yet to let the world know what a set of lungs he has, for when he was delivered, he only let out a feeble whimper. Tiny fingers curl around Castiel’s pinky. He watches the newborn peer through brand new eyes at what must be such a strange world after life in the womb. His legs kick in a tiny jagged motion, looking for that resistance he is used to the seraph guesses, but finding nothing but air. He wonders if that's unsettling or a relief, it must have been pretty cramped in there.

The angel has been on his own with his nephew for the past hour, fumbling through his first feeding and diaper change with only the help of WikiHow. The other angel had left once he’d assured him, he could care for the newborn until his father woke up. Holding the strangely quiet newborn while Sam sleeps and feeling out of his element, Castiel cocks his head at the thing in his arms. The newborn baby was most definitely not human, the angel could tell that much.

“Hello,” Castiel cradles his nephew, tries to get used to caring for another living thing, “You are rather quiet for a newborn. I am grateful for that, and I am sure your father will be too.”
“I am.” Almost elated at the sound of Sam’s tired voice, Castiel turns around to find him sleepily blinking at them winces as he begins to sit up. The seraph gently rocked the wrapped and surprisingly quiet bundle, before handing the baby off to the cambion, who was eager to hold him. “H-he looks just like him,” Sam declared in a trembling voice.Castiel agrees, “He does. Except for his eyes. He has your eyes.”Sam laughs softly, although it was almost closer to a sob. He couldn't believe that he was finally holding his and Gabriel’s child – their son – in his arms. A few tears spilled, one landing with a plop on the baby’s flushed cheek, which the baby seemed not to notice. His big, wide hazel eyes filled up almost all of his face and he stared at the men that hovered over him. His tiny mouth opens and closes while his little tongue pushes out from between his pomegranate pink lips.
“Well, I think we both know he doesn't have my hair,” Sam comments with a weak smile.
“He does not have any hair,” Castiel pointed out, gently patting the baby’s very bald head, not getting the joke, “What are you going to call him?”“Henry, for my father’s father. And I want for his middle name to be Steven. That’s Bobby’s middle name,” Sam gives the baby in his arms a watery smile, “Henry Steven Winchester. Of course, it’ll have to be Wesson on the birth certificate.”The seraph states, “He will still be a Winchester, Sam.”“I know,” The cambion murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the baby’s cheek. The baby wiggles in his blanket, letting out a gentle yawn as he settles his head against the latter’s chest, “When do you think his abilities will manifest? Or will he even have any? I mean, he seems so… human.”“I am afraid that I don’t have a sure answer for that question, Sam. Your son is special to say the least, for he is part archangel, and part human – I doubt he will inherit any cambion traits for your powers are not genetic, so they cannot be passed,” Castiel explains, “But regarding when he will show any abilities – “Henry suddenly twitched in his sleep and thrust a fist out of his blanket. It lit up in a weak glow, and the impact was enough to make Castiel’s very-human nose snap hard to the side. The seraph, though not in pain, was surprised to say the least as he gripped his bleeding nose with wide eyes. Sam just looks at the seemingly innocent infant in his arms and lets out a nervous chuckle.
“You are just like him. A little trickster.”
 
SPNSPN
 
Across various states, four portals opened; all from different times and spaces. It is said that with the birth of a nephilim comes strange occurrences. This one was vertically strange - But not unexpected coming from the little trickster. One of these portals had settled in the woods surrounding the cabin.
There is a large, yellow pulsating crack in mid-air. The space around it flashed and a single figure stumbled out. He appeared in the woods, shoes crunching on the fallen snow. His chiseled jaw was tight and his lush pink set of lips are set in a thin line. His eyes are a stunning hazel and his soft, feather-like brown hair is a mess with wisps cupping his smooth face.This Sam Winchester, who lacks a soul, glances around taking in this unfamiliar place. He drops the axe he forget he was even in holding, not sparing another look as it fell into the snow. He stepped over it and began to walk forward. He hardly even paid any mind to the near freezing temperatures because he couldn’t feel it - He didn’t feel a lot of things.  
SPNSPN
 
It had been six months since his brother had vanished off the face of the planet. All Dean initially knew was that the apocalypse was no longer nigh because the white-eyed demon bitch was cold and lifeless when he found her. Bobby and Dean searched the convent and the area surrounding it for hours on end until they stumbled upon what looked to be a nuclear fallout. In the middle of it there was a single copper feather.
Dean tried praying to Castiel, but he got an answer. Eventually both hunters decided to regroup at Bobby’s house, at least until they had something, anything to go on. Dean wanted to just go ahead and attempt to track down his brother, but Bobby argued that if their suspicions about Gabriel were in fact true, Sam was probably going to need some time alone. Plus, both of them had gotten their fair share of bumps and bruises from the demons they’d fought earlier. So, that night the hunter tried to get a good night’s sleep.
Still tired, Dean Winchester blinked slowly, not knowing how long he'd slept. As he pushed himself up, leaning on his arm and pushing the blanket around his waist, he groaned and shook his head once to clear it. His whole body felt sore as if he'd hunted for days without rest. His hands were too stiff to flex properly, and bandages covered his right arm and shoulder, making it hard to move. He turned to the clock on his bedside table and growled in agitation. 1:23 AM Glared at him in blinking red numbers.

Dizzy. He grabbed the edge of the mattress and closed his eyes as the world tilted. He felt like the floor would tip so much he'd fall, but as he leaned too far to compensate, he managed to balance himself. An all too familiar feeling twinges in his bladder and he stood.
“Gotta piss,” He muttered as he attempted to make his way down the hall. The second he exited his doorway, a coppery, bitter scent hit his nostrils and he cringed. “Fuck, jeez, what the hell….?”A single set of muddied of footprints littered the wooden floor leading down the hall, smears of blood running up and down the hall. At the very end of the hall, the restroom, he heard water running. The hunter pulled out his handgun from the waistband of his pajama bottoms, cautiously making his way the bathroom. The doorknob had a smear of blood that ran down to the door’s frame.
Dean slowly opened the door, the sound of running water blasting in his ears. White light cascaded into his vision, and the entire room was a mess of mud and blood. Muddy footprints smeared the blue tile floor, rubbing off onto the shower mat, and the sink had bloody handprints all over its edges and the mirror had five long lines of crimson running down it.
“Cas-?” Dean snarled in surprise, shoving his gun back into his pajama bottoms, “What the hell are you doing taking a shower, fully clothed, in the middle of the night?! And what the hell happened in the hallway-You’re cleaning that up, feathers!”
Castiel has his head back, his eyes thoughtfully closed as water splashed over his grime covered face. His trench coat was nearly dyed crimson with all of the blood covering him, smears of mud and muck smear down his shirt and pants. The angel opened one eye, regarding the human thoughtfully, before closing it once more and turning off the shower.
“Hello, Dean,” Castiel replied, his grave voice hinting at annoyance, “I came to speak to you and Bobby but found it necessary to rinse off first, given my current state. There is much to speak of, but first I require a towel- ““Woah, okay, I’m going to grab you a towel, then we can talk. You and Sam owe us one hell of an explanation,” Dean snorts eyeing the still filthy angel with distaste. “Angels.” He tossed a towel into his friend’s face, ignoring the surprised ‘mmph’ as the angel staggered backward. 
Castiel holds the towel to his chest. “Dean, I cannot stay for long. So, my explanation will be brief. I have to return to the chosen battle field soon,” He gingerly pats the towel to his face and hurriedly explains, “Your brother is mourning the loss of his lover, Gabriel. Gabriel sacrificed his life in order to eradicate Raphael and his army. Though Raphael is gone, he was not the true ruler of heaven, his older brother Michael was. He is none too pleased with current events – “

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean exclaims pressing his palms forward, “Slow down, Cas! Look, is my brother okay or not?”

“Define ‘okay’.”

“Is he breathing?”

“Then yes. He is okay.”
“Good,” The hunter utters, looking visibly relieved, “So, Gabe didn’t make it out, huh? I’m sorry, Cas. I know he meant a lot to you and Sammy. I mean, I can’t say I felt the same way, but he wasn’t as much of a dick near the end.”

The angel squeezes the towel in his hands, his eyes casting to the floor. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you, Dean,” He states with a slight nod, “But, I do not think you truly fathom how much Gabriel meant to Sam. Nor do I expect you too. After all, you are only human. But the bond that angels hold with their prospective lovers, to break it is… unthinkable. Death is such a rare thing among my people, that when it does occur it is a thousand times more devastating than any human’s will ever be.”

There was a flutter of wings and the towel fell to the floor. Castiel was gone.
“Wait, damn it! Wait! Where the hell is my brother?”Time passes for Dean Winchester until it manages its own type of monotony. Dean spends his time picking his way through town after town, taking up freelance jobs. The monsters seem much more frightening now that he’s alone. Others close to him still linger, but they feel distant as if they left him too. Dean tries to understand, tries to place himself in Sam’s shoes, but still he can’t even begin to understand why his brother just up and disappeared.He doesn’t like the places his kind goes when he tries to think about where he could have possibly gone. “A new king sits on the throne of hell.”The kitchen rag runs down the shaft of the machete, tracing the scars, remembering the hunts repeatedly. Bobby Singer enters the room, his entire body tense. Dean can imagine his expression. The younger hunter has hardly spoken since he got back from the hunt, and he’s worried, so he'll try to force it out. The old coot thinks he understands him better than himself, and before, maybe that was true. But now, he knows nothing. Dean was not the fool he once was.“I heard you took care of that vamp’ nest in Clearwater, all by yourself,” The stiffness in Bobby’s voice suggested he already knew the answer,” I could’ve helped you out, you know. I’ve got nothing to do around here but look after the phones and gather dust. Are you good?”“I’m, uh, yeah, I’m- “Fine? Such a blatant lie, but he couldn’t find any words to describe what he was feeling. “…. Peachy.”
From every corner, Dean’s undead enemies forms a living wall—a forest of fangs and bloody faces scream like animals in the darkness. They've lost their humanity in his mind. His machete cut them down like jungle vines All of them hissing defensively with their sharp, pointed, retractable teeth that emerge from their gums and extend beyond their human teeth. The hunter is deafened by the sound of metal slicing through flesh, bone, organs spilling on the floor until it bleeds into a blur of movement, background noise.

He keeps looking behind him as if he expects for there to be backup, a single someone to press up against him and keep him alert. The blood dries on his skin, cracks, pulls tight. He is coated in its sickness. But all he remembers are his eyes—piss-yellow and empty, as he turned his back to him. “Don’t make it seem like this will be the last time.” He tries to tell himself that the baby brother he knew isn’t lost – He can't let that be his last memory of him.
The nest is cleared, and Dean is covered in blood. He muffles a groan at the fiery stab erupting through his shoulder, spidering agony clawing through his muscles with every pulse. His head swims dangerously, world reeling until he collapses onto his knees. He was so tired, but he had to keep going on, no matter how much it hurt. Because he had to find his brother. Had to bring back the one he used to know. 
“Just peachy.” Dean mutters, turning over the machete in his hands.
Dean had let go of calculation, battle plans and tactics; all of the things his brother had once forced him to practice, and let his instincts guide him. All he’d done for six damn months is think, hunt, kept himself ignorant; convinced that nothing else mattered, nothing, then just going on. The hunter presses his eyes closed. Revels in his own agony - that deep, raw pain of healing muscles cramping. Stabbed by his own knife. Stabbed by his own foolishness, and lack of backup. He was still used to having someone pressed to his back, a watchful eye to keep around."You're gonna hurt yourself if you keep pushin' like that. You gotta let it heal,” Bobby states."I'm fine," Dean grits out, winces as his muscles angrily tighten, has to hold his breath.Dean moves on to the second side of the blade without hesitation. He’s cleaned it twice today. No matter how many times he cleans it, the blood still stains. He gathers the rag quickly, stood, and turned to leave. Bobby doesn't move to follow him, but he does yell after him.
“Do you think this is what Sam wanted?”

“He wanted a lot of things,” Dean mutters bitterly, not even bothering to turn around,”Look where that got him.”
Dean is all to willing to sacrifice anything everything for Sam. It wasn’t as if it was too difficult to figure out, considering the crossroads deal and well everything — Every single damn thing that’s he’s done for Sam or because of Sam. Other hunters are taking notice of this fact, and have chosen to stay away from him for this very reason. So, when he calls them up for help with some new spell or plan they don’t waste their breath. He’s a little too happy that people know better than to go against him.But, for the first time, Dean doesn’t know what to do when Sam is suddenly not to be found. Sam was there. He was right beside him for the past few years. Then Dean had died; had gone to hell. Only to come back with no memories of his time there and a world-saving-demon-but-not-demon-messiah of a brother with a new angel boyfriend. Ever since he’d been back they’d had their ups and downs because he’s only human - But Sam just wasn’t. He wasn’t human.Dean wanted to beg Sam to stop - Beg him to expel the poison he’d willingly consumed. Then a certain archangel showed him the future where they didn’t follow his coked-out plan. And somehow it’s so much worse than his baby brother being a monster. It still doesn’t make it any easier seeing his brother with a set of yellow eyes. Even with the apocalypse train of the rails, he can’t find any comfort or joy because his baby brother is gone. Gone in the sense that he can’t find him, and gone in the sense that he doesn’t even really know him anymore.Sometimes the hunter wishes that he’d remember hell so that he can he at least have something to compare what he feels too. The demon Meg’s words resonates with him now more than ever,”You know when people describe the worst possible thing they say it’s like hell. Well there’s a reason for that. Hell is like, uh... Well, it’s like hell! Even for demons!” 
SPNSPN

The sidewalk glistens under the early morning sun, washed clean by a thousand raindrops and then a thousand more. It is as grey as the granite of the mountain peaks, new life growing in the crevices, tenacious, vibrant - tall wands of green upon wind-blown soil grains, each one so precious to the life it supports. Dean Winchester was walking unusually slowly, almost robotically, as if his brain was struggling to tell each foot to take the next step.
Dean’s eyes settled on a nearby bench and he sat with all the grace of a sack of wet cement. His body seemed to conform to the shape of the hard wood, even his face seemed to slacken and sink as if pulled by invisible strings gently downward. Sitting on the opposite side of him was a young man, long legs crossed over his lap, one hand grasping an off-white coffee cup and the other some sort of novel. The hunter was mesmerized by the yellowing pages with faint rain drops on them, most likely from the faint drizzle that had occurred earlier in the morning – How long had the man been sitting there?As the man turns, Dean can see the tilt of his nose and the untamed fall of his messy hair and Dean's heart starts beating triple time, because it looks like Sam. That's Sam. From under his messy chestnut hair, and a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, peeked eyes of hazel and honey. They shone like sunlight on polished stone and hid a wealth of warmth and innocence. The hunter could feel the heavy silence over them, thicker then the uneasy tension in the atmosphere.“Sam?” Dean finally gasped out.The man looked up from his reading, one eye brow raised. “Pardon,” He closes his book over one of his fingers, allowing it to settle in his lap, before continuing,”I believe you have me mistaken me for someone else.”“No,” The hunter swallows thickly,”I don’t think so.”The man forces a smile, his free hand drumming fingers on the cover of his book. “Gosh, sir. My name is Justin. Justin Smith. And I’ve never been called Sam in my life,” He laughed softly, his dimples showing,”I’m afraid you must be mistaken.”“Sam.” Dean’s voice has en edge of desperation to it. He needs for this young man to be his brother, for the mere implication that he has to go a second more without him makes him feel the urge to pull the handgun from the hem of his jeans and it aim it between his eyes. The hunter gulps loudly, and manages to grit out,“Look I don’t know what the hell this is -“
Sam or “Justin” flinches violently as if Dean had raised a hand at him, and he lets out an audible gasp. “Sir! I would have you know that we are in a public park with women and children! You should feel ashamed using dirty language like h-e-double-hockey-sticks in public! It certainly doesn’t make you a cool cat as the kids say!” He abruptly stands, holding his book to his breast,”I hate to be a wet rag but... You should have your mouth washed out with soap!”

“Justin” gathers his things, pocketing his book and tossing his coffee into a nearby trash bin. Before Dean can even utter another word, the man that resembles his brother in an uncanny way is speed walking down the sidewalk, muttering under his breath. His face washed blank with confusion, like his brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to take in the scene he just witnessed with his wide eyes. Every muscle of his body just froze before a frown crept onto his face, it soon stretched from one side to the other.
Dean closes his eyes and hesitantly prays aloud,”Uh, Cas, if you've got your ears on, we need to talk. I know that I’m probably just finally going off the deep end, but there was this man – He looked just like Sam…”"Hello, Dean,” Castiel's deep baritone resonated from beside Dean, making him jump."Damn it, Cas, how many times? You can’t just keep sneaking up on me like that,” Dean exclaimed, turning and glaring at the angel. The seraph looked at him, inclining his head to the side,”Plus, I didn’t expect you to respond so quickly.”
"I did say hello. You had your eyes closed as one usually does in prayer, but it’s almost logistically impossible not to 'sneak up' on someone in a vulnerable position such as that,” Castiel countered, with a valid argument, much to Dean’s chagrin,”What do you mean you encountered a man that looked like Sam? Did he bear some resemblance to your brother or was he –“
“He looked like him but he sure as hell wasn’t him!” As soon as “hell” exited his mouth, he whipped his head back and forth, expecting a second scolding. When nothing happens he continues,”I mean, I know it wasn’t him because you know where he is, you just won’t tell me -“

“I won’t go against your brother’s wishes,” Castiel says sternly,”Now, describe your encounter in thorough detail.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

April 3, 2009
“It’s not even raining,” Sam complains as his head bumps against the umbrella for the third time. He adjusts his grip on the stroller’s handles and continues pushing it forward.Sam had decided to take Henry on a stroll through the park that was only a few miles away from the cabin. Despite the fact that it wasn’t even raining, it had just finished sprinkling, Castiel insisting on holding an umbrella over them. But since Castiel is so short, compared to him, Sam keeps bumping his head into the umbrella.“It was sprinkling earlier, and I don’t wish for either of you to get a cold,” Castiel replies, attempting to hold the umbrella higher over the latter’s head. It bumped against him again.
Sam’s nostrils flare and he stops pushing the stroller, turning to face Castiel. “Cas. I am a cambion, a combination of a demon and human. One of the most powerful beings on this planet,” He runs a hand over his face, and continues,”My son is a nephilim - A literal celestial being! We don’t get colds!”
Point taken, Castiel folds up the umbrella and hangs it down by his side. “I still don’t think it wise for your child to be at this park,” He says with a frown.  
“And why is that,” Sam questions, and he continues to push the stroller,”He’s just like any other baby. Well, I take that back... I mean, no, he’s not like other babies, but he should at least be treated like one - Alfie!”

Alfie had suddenly appeared a few feet in front of the stroller with barely a rush of wind, and a broad smile on his face. “Whoa! He grew a lot," He exclaimed, pressing forward to the front the stroller,”I still can't believe that thing was in your stomach."
The cambion’s eyes burned with frustration,”Stop calling my baby a thing."The angel’s cheeks burned bright red and he rubs the back of his neck, apologizing,”Sorry, I-I...” He clears his throat and questions,”I wanted to come check in on Henry. Is he showing any signs of any sort of abilities yet?”
“Oh yes, he is showing some signs of having powers somewhat similar to Gabriel’s. We probably won't know for certain until he's older,” Castiel answers sticking a finger in the stroller, allowing Henry to grip it and shake it aggressively.
Alfie looked concerned at hearing that. "Showing signs of powers already?” 
"Yeah, especially punches," Sam groans, rubbing where the baby had hit his shoulder the other day,”Um...why do you look so upset?"

“No, not upset...mainly just concerned,” Alfie assures him with a weak smile,”No nephilim has been allowed to live this long, so we really know nothing about them. We don’t know how fast they grow, how fast they absorb knowledge, or even, if they even develop at all. For all we know, they could already hold the level of omnipotence an angel does, but be trapped in the body of human baby... with nothing to do but grow.”
Castiel steps forward, lightly touching the other angel’s arm. “We’ll see you again, soon, Alfie,” He glares at the other angel with his back to the cambion,”Goodbye.”Alfie gives Castiel a forlorn look, but nods, giving them all a finally departing smile. A ruffle of wings and he’s gone.Sam’s face looks pale as he clenches at the handle of the stroller with a grip that dents the metal. “I-I don’t know what I’ll do if something happens to him. Then, I’d really be alone,” He admits,”Not that—I mean. I know I’m not, not really. You’re —you’re always lookin’ out for me, Cas. It’s just so much, too much.” 
“I know it is,” Castiel whispers, settling his hands over Sam’s,”Nothing, nothing, is going to happen to Henry. Not while he has you with him. Anyone that would ever do him any harm, would stay away from him if they were intelligent.”

The cambion laughs wryly, and states,”I just don’t get it - Why are you still here?”
“I’m here because you need me to be,” The seraph answers honestly,”And because I need you. We both lost something, something that can never be regained, the day that Gabriel died. When you saved the world, you saved me. And I hope, maybe, I can save you.”Sam can hear the fondness, the honesty, in Castiel’s voice. “You already have,” He responds as his breath hitches. 
SPNSPN
  
“...You will snap the hell out of it!”
Justin Smith flinches violently, reminding of that time he’d tried to wash his wife’s brand new electric mixer without unplugging it. “Sir,” He chides, sticking a finger in the agent’s face,”You watch your mouth! If we cannot remain civil, then you can skedaddle!”“Sam-“Justin huffs,”That’s not my name,” He places a firm hand on the man’s shoulder and leads him to the door,”Cindy, grab his hat.”“I don’t wear a hat!” The agent snaps, scowling.Cindy yells back,”Honey, I don’t think he wore a hat!”Justin tilts his head over the agent’s shoulder and yells back, annoyed,”Fine!” He gives him a push out the door and wage his finger at him a final time,”Sir, using language like H-E-double-hockey-sticks! You should have your mouth washed out with soap!”Justin closed the door on the government agent in a huff. How dare that man come into his home and use such foul language! Just then his wife, sweet, sweet, Cindy, had entered the room with his martini; it had not one, not two, but three olives! He took it, giving his wife a peck on the cheek and took a delicate sip.“Rawr!” Justin exclaims with enthusiasm as he pops one olive in his mouth.Cindy giggles, and tells her husband,”Maybe we should do more adventurous things? Like instead of pot-roast for dinner tonight, we could have...”“Mmm, how about we go out tonight,” Justin suggests with a smile as he wraps his arms around her waist,”We could go have a shake and, well, a shake. Come on snake, let’s rattle!”Justin steps forward with his left foot, shifting weight onto it, before immediately shifting the weight back onto his right foot. He brings the weight back up to the left, quickly bringing the right foot up next to the left. Cindy buries her face in her hands as her husband offers his hand. She shakes her head as he pulls her against him, rocking her back and forth.“Give the kids down there quite the tickle,” Cindy squeals, trying to muffle her delighted giggles against her husband’s cardigan,”You’re starting to sound like one of those hooligans!”Justin shrugs and concedes,”Aren't you happy to be married to such a cool cat?”“Stop that!” His wife snorts, playfully hitting his chest.“Careful, before you bust a gut,” Justin teases,”After we’re done, we can catch a flick. How does that sound?”“Swell, just swell,” Cindy purrs,”I will have to touch up my makeup and find something to do with that pot-roast. Maybe we can give it the neighbors? Didn’t their little ankle-biter just have a birthday?”Cindy keeps chattering to herself as she walks out of the room, leaving Justin alone to flop down on his chair. He leans over the side and grabs his book that he’s been skimming the past few evenings. He was as happy with his wife as he’d ever been, but every so once in a while, he needed a few minutes alone to read about auto parts. And he was. He was happy.His name was Justin Smith, and he was happy.As Justin sipped at his martini and flipped through the pages of his book, the walls around him began reflecting an odd, burning orange light. Some kind of energy filled the living room, making him shiver, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he jumped at the sight of a large, flashing, lightning-shaped opening in the room. He cries out as the thing begins to gape like a mouth, a strong gust of wind pushing him forward into the opening with a final yell.The last thing he hears is his wife’s alarmed scream,“Justin!” 
SPNSPN
 Justin Smith opens runs his hands on the surface under him, his fingers feeling sharp, uncut blades of grass. He wonders absently if he’s in his neighbors lawn, for his wife had just been gossiping about how they never bothered to take care of their grass. He opens his eyes and begins to shakily sit up, and he runs his hands over his face.
“Aw, heck. Heck, just heck,” Justin murmurs as he takes in his surroundings. He’s in the middle if what looks to be a park and several onlookers are passing by him, shooting him curious looks.
One onlooker, an older man with a hefty bag of birdseed situated in his arms, walks towards him and questions,”Are you alright, mister? You look like you’ve had quite a spook.”“I-I’m fine. Just a little jolted that’s all,” Justin squeaks, grateful when the latter offers a hand. He clutches his book against his chest as he takes the man’s hand and he’s dragged up from the ground with a grunt,”Right-o, I’ll just be on my way, old-timer.”
“You’re not from around here, are you, son?” The old man questions, shifting the bag in his arms,”I don’t think I’ve heard a fella talk like that since I was a youngster.”
Justin is at a loss for words, and only manages to sputter,”I-I know my talk is a little old-fashioned, but I’m trying to keep up on the lingo,” He let’s out a shaky exhale and runs a hand over his face,”Gosh, I must be flipping my lid! I’ll be saying ‘no’ to the hooch, when I get home. Well, t-thanks a plenty!”The air was warm, the beams of sunlight glowing on Justin’s skin as he quickly makes his way forward. Flowers are vast, and they conceal the unsightly long, green grass. The pathway is nothing more than dirt littered with random rocks, much to his annoyance. He’d just had his shoes shined the day before, and as much as he enjoyed a good talk with the boy who ran the stand, he couldn’t afford to be throwing his nickels down the drain.
“Dreaming,” He stutters,”I-I’ve got to be dreaming.”
The bench he stops at, looks like the boys had lifted it from a bad part of town. The top was gouged wood and the legs dented metal with chipped red paint. He mutters under his breath, but takes a seat on the bench next to a young woman. She shoots him a stink-eye before looking down at the device in her hands.
“U-Um, miss?” Justin inquires pointing to the device in her hands,”What kind of strange contraption is that? Is that one of those new-fangled computer devices I keep hearing about?”
The young woman snorts, raising a brow, before asking,”Are you serious?” He blinks in confusion,”Okay, step-ford dad. Very funny.”
“I-I...” Justin fumbles with his book for a second, before he manages to open it where he left off.

“Hold this,” The young woman abruptly states, shoving her cup into his free hand. He quickly catches it before any of the liquid falls out, muttering under his breath as the young woman stands up and walks away without another word.
After a few minutes the young woman still hasn’t come back, leaving him alone on the bench. He flops his book on his lap, and curiously sniffs at the cup that was handed to him. Coffee. He takes a sip of the hot liquid and he cringes, smacking his mouth loudly as he shakes his head. No one made a cup of joe like his wife’s.“Okay, okay,” Justin reasons, glancing around the unfamiliar area again,”I probably just dozed off in my chair... A martini too many. Cindy always warned me too stay off the hooch when I was about to hit the hay.”Justin opens his book with a sniff and attempts to read it. Just when he’s about to give up, throw his book across the park, and flip his lid, another man sat beside him. He clenches his book tightly, and purses his lips as he shoots the man a look. He sighs and redirects his attention to his book, trying to keep it there when he can practically feel the man’s eyes crawling over him.“Sam?” The man gasped out.Justin looked up from his book with one brow raised. “Pardon,” He closes his book over one of his fingers, allowing it to settle in his lap, before continuing,”I believe you have me mistaken me for someone else.”“No,” The man swallows thickly,”I don’t think so.”Justin forces a smile, his free hand drumming fingers on the cover of his book. “Gosh, sir. My name is Justin. Justin Smith. And I’ve never been called Sam in my life,” Except by that G-man that had come by his house earlier that morning. He laughed softly, his dimples showing,”I’m afraid you must be mistaken.”“Sam.” The stranger’s voice has en edge of desperation to it. He gulps loudly, and grits out,“Look I don’t know what the hell this is -“Justin flinches violently as if the stranger had raised a hand at him, and he lets out an audible gasp. But that initial shock turns into pure, righteous anger. Oh, Justin has had just about enough of that, thank you!“Sir! I would have you know that we are in a public park with women and children! You should feel ashamed using dirty language like H-E-double-hockey-sticks in public! It certainly doesn’t make you a cool cat as the kids say!” He goes to his feet, holding his book to his breast,”I hate to be a wet rag but... You should have your mouth washed out with soap!”
Justin storms off with a huff and ignores the man’s yells after him. Whoever this “Sam” was, wa shoving him a heck of a lot of trouble. Even in his dreams! He abruptly stops in front of a line of cars, and pinches his arm, hard. He lets out a disappointed sigh. Well, he can’t say he didn’t try.
"Hiya, Sammy" was the only thing he heard as he saw the man’s fist flying towards his face. He crumpled into a heap, gripping at his now throbbing jaw. Another man appeared from around the corner.This man, one that he actually recognizes, scolds in a deep bass tone,”Was that really necessary, Dean?”“Agent,” Justin squeaks in surprise, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest.“Agent?” The man, Dean, questions turning to him with an amused look on his face. He chuckles and motions to him with his hand,”I’ve already knocked him on his ass for you, Cas. Finish the job.”Justin frowns deeply, and scolds,”With language like that you’re never - Oh, heck,” The G-man presses two fingers against his forehead, and he promptly passes out as he does so."Seriously, man? Now I have to lug his giant carcass to the car!" Dean groans. Castiel shrugged, and made his way to the vehicle without another word,”Oh, real mature, Cas! Fine, guess I’ll drag him over there...”Dean grabs Justin’s long-ass legs and attempts to drag him in the direction of the car. 
SPNSPN
 
The first sensation Sam felt as awareness floated back to him was confusion. He groaned, lifting a finger to prod at the throbbing right half of his face. It was tender and would probably be an impressive purple within a few hours. Opening his eyes all of the way, he glances around to see he was on a couch in a room he hasn’t seen in years.
Dean sat on one of the wooden dining chairs, arms crossed and a deep scowl present on his face. Shit, he looks at least a good decade younger. Castiel is standing next to him, wearing his old trench coat from back when the apocalypse was still an issue. Sam dragged himself up to a sitting position, adopting a look of confusion as he inclines his head to the side.“D-Dean? Cas...” But Sam trails off when his eyes land on the owner of the house. Bobby stands off to the side, his mouth a thin line as their eyes meet,”Bobby...”The corner of Dean’s lips twitched and he states,”Nice cardigan, Sammy,” He turns to the older hunter,”At least he’s not talking like Andy Griffith anymore.”Castiel frowns and corrects him,”Andy Griffith originated in the nineteen-sixties, Dean. Not the fifties,” When he receives several curious looks, he mumbles,”I’ve been watching a lot of Netflix.”Sam glances down to see what he was wearing and promptly scowled. He was wearing a cherry red cardigan over a button up and tie he knows damn well he didn’t tie himself. He runs his hands on his face, clasping a pair of horn rimmed glasses and tossing them to the floor. His brother grabs something from the side of his chair and tosses it at him, and he catches it on instinct.Frozen peas. Sam shoots him a grateful look and holds them against the right side of his face. “So, anyone want to fill me in on what the hell is going on,” He inquires, his eyes flitting around the room.
“Hey, language!” Dean mock-scolds, wagging a finger at him. Sam flips him off.
“We were hoping you could fill us in,” Bobby states, a neutral expression on his face,”But, you see, no one here is convinced that you’re... you.”Sam scoffs and his lips form a shaky smile. “I’m not me?” He glances around the room, noting all of the anomalies, the things, people that just shouldn’t be there,”Yeah, okay. Where I’m from you’re dead, well the version I know,” He traces a finger back and forth between the two hunters,”And you’re a decade older with quite a few grey hairs!”“Alright, Mr. Rogers,” Dean quips, motioning to the cardigan.“It wasn’t exactly voluntary, believe me,” Sam growls in response.“Shut it! Both of you. We’ll get down to who’s not who once everyone’s passed a couple of tests,” Bobby declares holding out the demon-killing knife and a canteen.
Sam grunts in response and Dean takes the knife and the canteen. He drags the knife across his brother's forearm. Blood welled from the cut, but nothing else happened. He uncapped the canteen, dowsing the cut with holy water, washing the blood off. Again, nothing.

“Your turn,” Sam says, taking the knife and running the blade over his discarded cardigan. He repeats the process, and again, nothing happens.
“Okay, so both of us are at least human. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, care to fill us both in, Cas,” Dean questions, turning to Castiel with his arms crossed over his chest.Castiel opens his mouth, then shuts it, his lips forming a thin line. His delayed response puts everyone in the room even more on edge then before."Well don't keep us in suspense," Bobby snapped impatiently.“I have my theories,” Castiel tilts his head and pauses,”But, I will have to ask some questions first. Sam, what date do you think it is?”Lines form in between Sam’s eyebrows but he answers,”March 15, 2019. Why - Wait, you don’t think I time traveled to the past, do you?”
“No. I do not,” Castiel tilts his body towards Sam, and inquires further,”Sam, tell me about Gabriel.”
Sam’s eyebrows draw together and he inclines his head to the side. “Gabriel,” He utters with a blank look,”The archangel? I don’t know, I mean, he was kind of a dick-bag when we first meet him. But he more than redeemed himself in the end.”
“Did he mean anything to you?”
Sam coughs, pressing his fist to his mouth. “W-What?” He stutters, his cheeks turning a light pink.“Did he mean anything to you?” The seraph repeats.The hunter swallows thickly, and fidgets with his tie. “I-I mean he was a friend, and I’m upset that he died but... we never, uh, you know. He kind of had eyes for Rowena, and she’s a good friend, and, uh,” He looks down, unable to meet anyone’s eyes,”What does this have to do with anything?”
“It’s what I feared,” Castiel concluded, and he grimaces, giving everyone in the room a pained look,”And I cannot explain further without...”
Sam’s posture abruptly stiffens and he says,”You wouldn’t happen to know if a nephilim has been born recently, would you,” The angel doesn’t respond but the hunter continues,”In my world, there is a nephilim named Jack Kline. Lucifer took possession of President Jefferson Rooney and he, you know, with Jefferson's aide and lover, Kelly, who was unaware of the possession. During her labor, a rift to another dimension was opened.”“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean exclaims holding his hands up,”Slow down, so you’re saying that you got blasted to our world by frickin’ Damien? That’s insane.”
“No, I’m saying that it’s a possibility that a nephilim was born in this dimension, though I sincerely doubt it.”

“Why’s that, boy?” Bobby questions.
Sam sighs and explains,”Angels don’t take too kindly to nephilim. And if it was strong enough to open a portal to another dimension, that means that it was likely fathered by an archangel,” He frowns, pressing a hand to his lips,”Meaning that it’d be pretty much impossible for the angels in this dimension, not to know this particular nephilim was conceived.”“Do you know anything about this, Cas?” Dean asks, turning to the angel.Castiel keeps his expression neutral and utters a simple,”No,” He shakes his head and stands up,”I suggest that the three of you summon Crowley, see if he knows anything. While I go look into this matter further in Heaven.” 
SPNSPN
 
Crowley heard the usual mental loop of a summon, a slur of incanted words in his head, pulling at him incessantly. Typical. He sighed, and began to shrug on his black overcoat before going along with the pull of the summoning. It was like having a ticking clock in his head that he could never shut off. Not even a damn snooze button.

Summoning was like being chewed up, spit out, and shoved through a damn straw to be spit-balled across time and space. The whole thing was done without even an inkling as to where he was going to end up or with who. He landed, with an abrupt whooshing feeling, in Bobby Singer’s living room. He was about to step forward to Great everyone, when he ran into an invisible barrier; he glanced down, displeased.

"A devil’s trap? Please, tell me that you’re pulling my leg,” Crowley growled, annoyed. Dean stood in front of him on the edge of the freshly painted devil's trap, arms crossed tightly over his broad chest,”It’s a little late for April’s Fools, boys.”

“I see that he’s even a dick-bag in this dimension,” Sam comments flatly, making Crowley raise a brow at him.
Crowley frowns and inclines his head to the side,”Another Moose? Bloody Hell, you’re the third I’ve seen today.”
“The third?” Dean growls, looking at the demon with wide eyes,”You better start moving those lips -“

"No," Crowley retorted, shrugging,”I don't need to explain my private life to you."
"If you want out of that trap, you better open up,” Bobby threatened."Always with the threats. Honestly, boys, a little bit of manners could save you a world of trouble,” The demon states with a long suffering sigh,”But, since you three are being so insistent, I’ll share a tiny bit.”Sam steps forward, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Has a nephilim been born in this dimension?” He asks, his magenta lips still staying parted ever so slightly when he finishes talking.
“My, my, Moose,” Crowley drawls, an easy smile going over his lips,”You age like a fine wine. You just keep getting bloody better with age. Tell me, in your dimension, do we have at least one tryst -“

The hunter’s cheeks pinken ever so slightly, and he rolls up one sleeve and shows what looks to be an old bite mark. “You bit me once. Does that count?”

“Oh, so we’re kinky? I can imagine you in a leather bustier and stilettos, really putting the S-A-M into SM,” The demon hisses, standing at the very edge of the devil’s trap,”What’s our safe-word? ‘Flannel’?”

Sam wasn’t thinking when he let out his boiling antipathy and swung his tight fist, too quick and potent, into Crowley’s jaw. “Shit,” He snarls shaking his hand, flexing his fingers to make sure he didn’t damage anything,”I forgot punching demons is like punching lead.”
“Figured you remember by now, old man,” Dean states playfully, patting his shoulder and handing him the same bag of frozen peas,”Okay, Boris, answer the question.”“Yes, a nephilim was recently born.” Crowley states, testing his jaw,”Now if you’ll just scratch a fine-line in the paint, and I’ll be on my way.”“Not so fast,” Bobby says gruffly,”What did you mean that he’s the third one that you’ve seen today? Are you telling us that three damn portals were opened?”“Four,” Crowley corrected with a smirk,”The nephilim that was born, let’s just say that he’s quite the trickster. Sadly, that’s all I can say for now, unless Sam wants to bring out a riding crop -“Sam snorts and scuffs his boot against the devil’s trap, scraping at the paint. Crowley looks down and up again, before sending a wink in the hunter’s direction. He snaps his fingers and with a whoosh of air, he’s gone.Dean runs a hand over his face, and groans,”I really can’t catch a break, can I? At least tell me one thing, Sammy,” He turns to latter and asks,”Did I at least age well?”
“I-I guess so... I mean - Why are you asking me this?” Sam sputters, pinching the bridge of his nose,”I mean, how aren’t you freaking out? Not even a little bit? Hell, I am!”

“With all of the shit that’s been going on these past few months, a little interdimensional travel doesn’t even make me blink,” Dean snorts, walking into the kitchen, not even glancing back to see if the latter is following him,”And don’t worry, I already know about a lot of stuff that happens in your crap-hole of a dimension. Though I can’t say mine is much better off... It was was supposed to be, but I don’t know...”
“W-What do you mean?”“...It’s a long story,” Dean claims, grabbing a beer from the refrigerator. He twists off the cap, but grunts when he feels it pulled from his grip by the latter.Sam takes a swig and hands it back. “I’m trapped in an alternate dimension, and I haven’t even heard so much as a peep about my other self. And, well, I’ve got nothing but time if this goes the same way it did in my dimension,” He leans against the counter and urges,”Fill me in.”Dean smirks and grabs a beer for the latter, pressing it into his hand. “First, you’ve got to tell me what kind of piss-poor hunt you went on, that had you looking like one of the dickbag parents from Dirty Dancing.”“Once again, that was the sixties, not the fifties,” Sam sighs, rolling his eyes,”You should really check your facts, before you insult someone, jerk.”
“Bitch,” Dean shoots back with a smirk.
 
SPNSPN
 
Sam Winchester was roused from his deep sleep by someone singing. He peaked open a bleary eye and saw a silhouette by the window swaying gently. The seraph had a calming tenor voice, that he supposed was his vessel’s, and he wanted to drift back to sleep hearing it. He crept over to the angel and leaned over him to brush his fingers through his son’s golden strands of hair.

"Sleep well, my esia,” Castiel whispered proudly, lowering Henry into the cradle. When he turned back around, he saw the latter watching him with an odd smile,”What?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know how long it'll take me to get used to the idea of you being such an... affectionate guardian."
The seraph raised a brow and questioned,”What did you think that I would do with him? Toss him off of the highest peak to see if he’d take flight? Perhaps, you even believed that I’d lock him in a room with a demon just to see if he could smite him?” He sighs, and runs a finger down the baby’s cheek,”Angels were made, not born, so I would not know how to care for an infant angel, anyway. I am simply attempting to treat him as a human guardian would.”
“I wasn’t meaning to ruffle your feathers,” Sam replies as Castiel scowls at him,”I just figured you'd give up on changing diapers pretty quick. And a lot of other things.”
"A hefty diaper means that my esia is eating well,” Castiel sat stiffly on the edge of the bed. 
“‘Esia’? Isn’t that ‘son of my brother’ in enochian?” Sam asks sitting on the bed beside the latter.

“Yes,” The seraph confirms, brushing back a strand of the latter’s hair from his face,”I see you’ve been doing more studying. You’ve gotten much better.”
The cambion chuckles at that and responds,”Well, I didn’t exactly have the best teacher at first. You know how Gabriel was with well... everything.”
“Impatient, brash, thick-headed, churlish -“
“To name a few,” Sam says with a snort, before standing up and making his way across the room. He leans down over the cradle, and gently scoops up his son, resting him in his folded arms,”I really couldn't ask for a better child. He sleeps all night, and he rarely even cries."Sam leaned over to give him a kiss, when Henry suddenly twitched in his sleep and thrust a foot out from his blanket. It lit up in a weak glow, but the impact was enough to make his face twist hard to the right with a grunt.
Castiel seizes the baby’s wee foot and tucks it back into his blanket, commenting,”I think, in human terms, that would be called ‘jinxing it’.”
The cambion rubs his cheek, and passes the baby to the latter. “He’s got his daddy’s attitude, alright,” He tests his jaw, rotating it a few times before muttering,”I might actually need to ice this. I don’t know if I should be proud or...”“Disturbed?” Castiel questions with a slight frown. He shakes his head, placing the sleeping nephilim back into his cradle. “How are you feeling?”"A lot better. I should probably give myself another few weeks to recover, before going back to work, but Alfie’s healing helped a lot. I feel healthy as a horse fine now."The seraph nods solemnly and points out,”Well, the horse does have nearly four to five times more white blood cells than the average human, so that is good,” The cambion opens his mouth to say something but quickly shuts it, trying to hide his smile,”Despite that, I do agree that you should give yourself more time to recover, which makes what I’m about to tell you... difficult, to say the least.”“What is it,” The cambion questions, crossing his arms over his chest.  
“We both knew that with your baby’s delivery there would possibly be some complications -“

“Complications? Is that what you’re calling this pile of shit we’re in now?” Crowley growls, suddenly appearing beside Sam, who jumps in surprise.

“Jesus!” Sam grits out,”What the hell are you doing here?”
Crowley raises a brow, and turns to Castiel, questioning,”Should I let you take this one, feathers?”Sam groans in exasperation,”What are you talking about-““When Henry was born it seems that his powers fluctuated causing several tears in the space-time-continuum, making it so multiple apparitions have been sent to our world,” Castiel suddenly blurts.Crowley snorts in amusement and explains,”In simpler terms, your bloody spawn opened up four portals from multiple times and dimensions.”
“Four portals?” Sam questions, rubbing his temples,”Wait, what did you mean by apparitions? Are you saying that people from these times and dimensions are actually -“
“You,” The seraph mumbles.“What?” The cambion questions, whipping his head to the latter.“You.”“Me?”
“Yes... you.”
The demon groans aloud and states,”All of the ‘apparitions’ are you, Moose. Each and every one of them is a version of you from different time or dimension,” He sticks his hands in his coat pockets and continues,”Luckily for us, my lackies have already managed to round up two of them. And your charming brother got one. If you will, feathers?”
“Don’t call me that,” Castiel hisses, before going to stand beside either one of them and moves to clasp their shoulders.
Sam swats at his hand and growls,”I think you’re forgetting something,” He motions to the sleeping baby in the cradle.Crowley makes a noise of disgust and takes a large step away from the cradle. “Nephilim,” He gulps, his eyes wide,”Nasty little buggers, aren’t they?”
“That ‘nasty little bugger’...” Sam growls in a mocking accent as his eyes burn yellow,”...happens to be my newborn son.”

“Has he had his shots?” Crowley inquires, shoving his hands into his pockets with a smirk.

“Crowley - “ Castiel warns.
“Well, at least he’s healthy,” Crowley says, leaning forward to peak into the cradle. He flinched away, recoiling, when the baby opened his mouth and lets out a barely audible yawn.The seraph inclines his head forward, and slowly asks”Crowley, are you... afraid of him?”“What? That’s ridiculous,” The demon scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns as his back towards the cradle. The cambion, of course, takes this opportunity to carefully scoop up his son and hold him behind the demon.“Your pulse is elevated,” Castiel points out with raised brows, his lips quirking ever so slightly in amusement,”Is that sweat I see?”Crowley scoffs again, turning on his heel,”I am not afraid of a brat that rolls around in his own shit - Bloody Hell!” He exclaims when he comes face-to-face with the baby in question. He reaches up a hand and clasps at his throat, closing his eyes. 
Sam snorts and places Henry back in his cradle. “Of course you’d be afraid of a little, defenseless baby.”

At that moment, Henry yawns again, and wiggles in his footies, causing the light bulb overhead to shatter. Castiel snaps his fingers and the bulb pieces itself back together and flies overhead back into its place.

“Oh yes, I see what you mean,” Crowley mutters sarcastically,”Nothing but a ‘little defenseless baby’... My arse! You’ve lost the plot if you think I’m anything but afraid of that spawn!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Castiel turns to Sam and reassures him,”You know that I wouldn’t ask you to leave your child behind, unless I knew without a shadow of a doubt he’d be safe. Alfie will look after Henry while we’re gone. He’s just in the other room and a prayer away.”Sam nods and exhales. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Let’s make this quick.” 
SPNSPN
 
Sam Winchester flips through a few pages in the dusty old book, shifting the blanket that his brother had laid over his shoulders. The soup in front of him is already frigidly cold, but even when it was piping hot he couldn’t find the motivation to eat it. He’d edged a spoonful near his lips before nearly keeling right then and there. He groans in exasperation when he feels it slid off his shoulders, onto the floor. He’s about to reach down and grab it, when he feels two hands drape it over his shoulders.
Castiel goes to stand at Sam’s side, one of his hands still grasping the human’s shoulders, and comments,”You look as if death already dug its claws into you.”
“Thanks,” Sam huffs, pilling the blanket closer to him,”I thought that you didn’t like metaphors...”
“I’ve had nothing better to do lately, then read from your library,” The angel responds with a small smile,”I’ve learned enough figurative language for a lifetime, and I believe I now have a firmer grasp on it -“Sam interrupts him with a cough, and he leans over to grab a handful of tissues to press against his gaping mouth. His shaky hands pull away the balled up tissues, now stained with flecks on blood. “Sorry. Sorry, um, it’s just,” He tosses the tissues into the waste basket beside him and scrubs a hand over his stinging eyes,”It’s been a rough day.”
“You’re getting worse,” The seraph states softly, actually sounding like he was concerned for the human,”Do not apologize for your pain.”
Castiel sounds so sincere and Sam bows his head and just concentrates on the congested crackle of his own breath. “Okay,” He concedes, his voice sounding watery,”Thanks, Cas. J-just do m-me a favor... Don’t tell, Dean. He can’t know that I’m getting worse, if he does he won’t let me go through with this and I-I have to... I have to...”
“I understand,” The seraph replies, removing his hand from his shoulder. But, he quickly moves to regrasp it when his eyes settle on something the human cannot see,”Sam!”

And then he’s pulled away, into darkness. He distantly wonders if death really had sunk its claws into him. Perhaps the first two trials had claimed him, a runner that would never make it the finish-line, so that he could never complete the their trial. No, he couldn't afford to think that way, not with everything at stake. He would survive. He would, for his brother.

“Don't scream,” Someone’s voice whispered in the distance.
The pain flared white hot, radiating out to Sam Winchester’s head. When he felt himself being hauled back onto his knees, the pain driving down for another attack, he blacked out. And he woke up on a stifling hot bed, sweat cascading down his shivering body in waves. A skin and bones rat scattered past his arm, it’s pink worm-like tail tracing down the ropes that held him to the bed.Shivering, drawing in shuddering breaths, Sam lay still for several seconds, several minutes. His whole body felt like heavy ice. He tried to move his arm, tried to lift his hand. Nothing. The light above him was so bright, so bright that his eyes stung. It was a struggle to blink. The room was still blazing even behind his eyelids. He panted for breath, so tired that lying still took every ounce of energy.Slowly the room came more into focus. The blur faded into shapes and shadows. And lines on the floor. They were faint, but he could make out faint black lines radiating outward. Cherry red paint in a room with a hard wood floor. And dark splashes all around him. The sulfur smell in the room was thick, cloying, and he could hear the blaring music, the familiar sound of a room full of people jamming their hearts out.
Sam found himself praying silently to the only one who could possibly help him. ‘Castiel, I don't know if you can hear me, but I don’t know where I am -‘ A woman had suddenly materialized from thin air, her lips a frown, and she pressed her palm onto his forehead. He hadn't even realized he was groaning in pain until the sound registered in his own ears.

“Can you please stop making so much damn noise,” The woman growls, her hand clenching onto his forehead with a tighter grip,”There’s no point in praying. No point in crying for help. The only thing you will hear in return are your own fucking screams, shithead.”
Sam’s voice is hoarse,”Go… t-tth-to… h-h-he-hell…”For the first time, she smiled. It was strained as if it was being pulled into place by a series of strings. “Oh,” Her laugh is cold, mirthless,”We’re already there.”The hunter suddenly took on a pale look, as if he’d been painted with white-wash - even his lips were barely there. Then with one feeble attempt to lift himself from the bed he crumpled like a puppet suddenly released of their strings. The bucket of cold water on his flesh minutes later barely revived him. He only dimly sees the little rivers of water that were stained bright crimson as they ran away from him the cracks of the stone floor his face lay against.
Crowley, the dick-bag, was standing in front of him with an empty bucket hanging at his side. “Rise and shine!” He exclaims, patting at his face,”Come on, Moose -“
“Where the hell am I? H-how did you...?” Sam grits out, coughing after he barely manages to finish his sentence.“What did you to him?” A deep, gravely voice questions. Castiel steps forward from the shadows, and his eyes showed the kind of gentle concern his older brother used to have. The angel laid his hand lightly on the human’s shoulder, and instead of flinching, he was soothed by it.Crowley objects,”I didn’t do a damn thing to him! He was like that when I found him,” He exhaled impatiently,”Can’t you just work your magic on the poor lad?”Castiel nods and bends down next to Sam, offering him a small smile. His fingers took on a dull blue glow and he gently pressed them to the human’s forehead. He frowns, and his forehead creases as he mutters something under his breath. He closes his eyes and the glow surrounding his fingers intensifies, so much that the demon has to shield his eyes.“I-it won’t work,” Sam manages to grit out,”I-if you were m-my Cas, you’d already know that... I-I’m a long way f-from home aren’t I?”
Panting, Castiel admits,”He’s damaged in ways even I can't heal,” He takes the human’s hand and questions,”What did this to you?”

“N-Not what, who,” The human murmurs sleepily, his eyes starting to close,”I-I did this to myself. I-It had to be me... It had to be.”
Another figure enters the room, but he stays at the doorway, leaning against its frame. He had chiseled jaw was with a lax, lush pink set of lips set in a thin line. His eyes a stunning hazel, so much like his own, and his soft, feather-like brown hair is tucked behind his ears. It was then he realized, he was staring into his own face, despite the blatant differences.Before Sam could make sense of it, his doppelgänger spoke,”We’ve got a lot to talk about.”“Y-Yeah, we do,” Sam manages to grit out, before succumbing to the darkness once again.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

April 3, 2009
 
“Listen to me,” Bobby pleads, panting heavily, his eyes wide and wild,”You don’t wanna do this.”

Sam turns to knife in his hand, examining the sharpness of the blade, as the light reflects off the freshly polished metal. His face is stone cold, not a single twitch of empathy or any other kind of emotion, at the latter’s pleas. In fact, he’s completely uninterested, only caring about the efficientness of the task he’s about to complete.

“Sam!” Bobby yells, his voice trembling,”I’ve been like a father to you, boy. Somewhere inside you got to know that.”

Sam turns to him, his interest slightly piqued. He turns the knife in his hand once more, but takes his sweet time, slowly walking over to where Bobby is tied up. “Well, that's just it,” He exhales deeply, and unempathetically says,”Sorry.”

Sam sets his hand on Bobby’s hatted head, and pulls his blade to a semi-circle arc on his right side. Bobby winces and lets out a panicked gasp, and begins to struggle against his bonds. Sam pulls his arm up, yanking Bobby’s he’s dback so that his throat is exposed, and is about to plunge the blade into his jugular. But then he hears it. A slight crackle like the hum of a newly screwed in light bulb. There’s a feeling in the air, like static electricity and all of the hairs on his arms stand straight up.

“...Interesting,” He utters softly. A few feet away, he stares straight into the mouth of a portal. He frowns slightly, and lowers the blade to his side, ignoring the pleading protests of the man he had once dared to call a father.

Sam walks straight forward, slowly, mechanically, until he is mere inches from it. The low thrum is louder now, and the portal warbles slightly as his fingers experimentally brush around it. The side of his lips quirk and he tucks the knife into his belt, and bends down to pick up his discarded ax. Then he walks through.

This universe was different from his, but only in the subtlest of ways. This version of Sam, the one without a soul, had been doing his research. Be it by playing catch-and-release with angels and demons, or by simply glancing at a calendar, he’d learned many a thing about this alternate universe. For one, the supposedly destined-since-the-dawn-of-time-apocalypse apparently was prevented in an anticlimactic whimper of a final showdown. And he was definitely surprised when he’d learned that the one who’d prevented it, was the doey-eyed, gullible idiot that had started it in his universe - Himself.Sam already admired his alternate self, as opposed to the saddled with a soul version of himself, and he’d even go as far as to say that he respected him. This version of himself, had been willing to do what his brother wasn’t; do what was necessary, no matter the moral price. His brother, every version of his damned brother, was narrowed-minded, unable to see the bigger picture. He supposed with no soul, he had no strings pulling him from one direction to another; he could choose his own way.
Sam glances out the window, at the last tinge of fading sunlight, sipping his drink as he does so. As he flits his eyes away from the window, they meet with those of the small, pretty bartender standing a few feet away, cleaning a glass so her hands are occupied. She raises her brows when he notices his stare, her lips quirking into a tired smile.
“You new in town?” The bartender asks softly, refilling his drink without prompt.The side of his mouth twitches, and he answers,”I guess you could say that.”
“Mm. Are you planning on sticking around or...”
Sam takes a sip of his drink, gulps it down and states,”Yeah. Yeah I think I’ll stick around. This place isn’t half bad,” He winks and takes another drink.She walks over, and bends over the bar, propping her elbows up and pushing her cleavage forward. “I get off in an hour,” She offers slyly.
“I didn’t ask,” He replies, his facial expression neutral.
“You didn’t have to.” 
Sam smirks- just a small pouting of the lips; a narrowing of the eyes and a tilting of the head. His long fingers curl around his glass tumblr and he downs the rest of its contents with a light wince. He reaches into a pocket and slides over a crisp twenty, and then leaves without another word.

Sam stands outside of the bar, his hands in tucked into the warmth of his pockets. He exhales slowly, watches as his breath becomes visible in the cold night air.

“Got a light,” A voice inquires from the shadows.
He turns and his eyes settle on a man leaning on the building, his arms crossed nonchalantly with a cigarette hanging between his lips. He nods, and saunters over, lighter in hand. The man fishes a half packet of cigarettes from his leather jacket and offers him one. “Jerry,” The man offers, mumbling through his cigarette, still struggling with his lighter.“Sam,” He returns, setting a hand over the latter’s and gently taking the lighter,”Here, let me.”
Jerry nods, and holds his cigarette at attention between his lips, stares deeply into Sam’s eyes. Sam flicks the lighter to life, holds the flame to the end of the cigarette and watches as the latter’s eyes widen and wash over an inky black. Steam rises from his lips, and he slams his meaty hands over them, his screams muffled through the flesh.
Sam watches, dispassionate, as the latter falls to his knees, still wailing in agony, and lights his own cigarette. He crouches down, settling his elbow over his knee; he takes a deep drag from his cigarette and exhales the smoke in the latter’s face. The demon screams louder, the skin on his face starting to sizzle like oil on a hot pan.
“What t-the f-f-f...fuck did y-you-“ Jerry hisses in pain, and attempts to crawl forward, when he knocks his head against an invisible barrier.
Sam whistles, and kicks aside some trash, motioning to the devil’s trap on the ground. “Holy-oil lighter. Clever little trick isn’t it,” Sam says folding his arms over his chest,”Now, tell me, where are your buddies?”
“I don’t know what you’re -“

“Taking about,” Sam finishes with one brow raised,”Oh, but you do. I spied with my little eye, you and two of your buddies tailing me. Now, let’s do the math, okay? There were three of you, and here you are, so...where are the other two?”
When Jerry doesn’t answer, Sam extinguishes the cigarette on his forehead. “Fuck,” He snarls, thrashing on the pavement.
“I’m not going to ask so nicely again. In fact, I’m done asking,” Sam states coldly,”Here’s what we’re going to do: I’m going to count to three, and if you don’t tell me where your bosom buddies are crouching, then I’m going to blow smoke up your ass. Your call, buddy.”

“Go to hell!”

Sam chuckles deeply at that, and replies,”One - Been there, done that. Try again.”

“F-fuck you...!”

“Two.”
“Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck y-““...Three,” Sam flicks the lighter on. 
SPNSPN
  
Sam’s doppelgänger is laying down on the left side of the room, and looking at him he could tell he was at least a few years older than himself. And he has a finer head of hair. His face is pale as parchment and his eyes are slack and blood shot. His chapped lips are parted but only soft wheezes, and every few seconds hacking coughs, exit.
Crowley, the dick-bag, waltzes towards his doppelgänger and dumps the contents of the bucket over him. “Rise and shine!” He exclaims, patting at his face,”Come on, Moose -““Where the hell am I? H-how did you es-escape...?” His counter part grits out, coughing after he barely manages to finish his sentence.
“What did you to him?” Castiel growls, lightly setting his hand on the human’s shoulder.
Crowley objects,”I didn’t do a damn thing to him! He was like that when I found him,” He exhaled impatiently,”Can’t you just work your magic on the poor lad?”
Castiel nods and bends down next to his friend’s doppelgänger, offering him a small smile. His fingers took on a dull blue glow and he gently pressed them to the human’s forehead. He frowns, and his forehead creases as he mutters something under his breath. He closes his eyes and the glow surrounding his fingers intensifies, so much that the demon has to shield his eyes.
“I-it won’t work,” His doppelgänger manages to grit out,”I-if you were m-my Cas, you’d already know that... I-I’m a long way f-from home aren’t I?”Panting, Castiel admits,”He’s damaged in ways even I can't heal,” He takes his hand in his own and questions,”What did this to you?”
“N-Not what, who,” His counter part murmurs sleepily, his eyes starting to close,”I-I did this to myself. I-It had to be me... It had to be.”

Sam came deeper onto the room and meet his counter part’s eyes, two sets of hazel hues meeting. Frowning deeply, he states,”We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Y-Yeah, we do,” His doppelgänger manages to grit out, before his head rolls uselessly to the side.
Castiel and Sam meet each other’s gazes simultaneously. The angel speaks first, and says,”This is unlike any illness I’ve ever encountered. It’s almost as if... it’s affecting him to the very subatomic level of his body.”The cambion gives a heavy nod, and utters,”We’ll do what we can for now. Maybe if he gets some rest he’ll be a little more coherent when he wakes up.”The demon snorts. “He’s been out of it since we found him in a ditch a few miles back,” He says.
“Yeah, okay,” Sam stutters placing his hands in front of him,”So, what exactly are we supposed to do about this? I mean, is there a way to, I don’t know, get them back?”
“My top researchers are already on it,” Crowley responds.
Castiel frowns, creases appearing on his forehead. “You have a demon research team?”
“I’m the King of Hell, feathers,” The demon declares flourishing his arms as his lips draw into a smirk,”Hell is whatever I bloody want it to be! This week, it’s a research team, next week, it’s a damn glee club!” 
“Okay, can we focus?” Sam groans, pinching the bridge of his nose,”Wait... That’s only two, counting the one that my brother has. Cas, I thought you said that four portals opened?”
Castiel turns to Crowley, his eyes narrowed as he grits out,”It seems Crowley failed to capture the other two -“
Crowley opens his mouth the argue, when he’s interrupted by a severed head rolling across the floor. Everyone in the room falls silent as their eyes widen comically at the sight of a head that is now opening its mouth to speak. The demon bends down and grabs the head by its hair and dangles it in the air so that everyone can hear it speak more clearly.

“Where the bloody hell is everyone?”
“Gone, sir... Gone,” The severed head utters,”T-the fourth apparition... I don’t think he appreciated us trying to capture him. He went through us like a car during a marathon, and when the last of us finally managed to wrangle him into the back of the van - H-he sort of dislocated his own thumb to wiggle of of his handcuffs and then he...”“What?” Crowley demands, giving the head a rough shake, which made everyone in the room groan.“Crowley,” Sam hisses, covering his mouth.The severed head flinches, and whispers,”He f-fucking bit a chunk out of his guard’s neck, to make a devil’s trap with his blood,” He goes on,”A-and well we were driving a stolen laundry van, so there were p-plenty of wire hangers lying about...” 
”How in the hell did you cock-ups manage to fail in capturing -“
Another Sam chooses that moment to waltz in with what looks to be an unfolded wire hanger in his hand. “Howdy,” He greets, his lips twisting into a slight smile.“Bloody hell,” Crowley curses as he takes in the fourth apparition’s appearance. Every inch of his built body has splashes of blood over it, and he reeks of sulfur.Other-Sam continues, nonchalant like as he steps closer,”And, uh, they did... catch me, I mean. They just had trouble keeping me,” He tosses the long strip of wire to the side,”Now, let’s talk, and I don’t mean tied up with me slurring through a gag. I mean really talk.”Sam takes in his doppelgänger’s appearance, and he’s definitely the closest to his age. This Sam has a hair that’s only slightly longer than his own, but his side burns are considerably more grown out than his. Mutton-chops, he thinks they’re called. But the thing that really set him apart from the rest of the Sams were his eyes. They were empty, void of any kind of emotion at all, leaving pure cold grey steel staring back at him. An involuntary shiver rolled slickly down his spine.
“Crowley,” Sam demands, turning to the demon,”Help me get both of them to my place. I think that all of us should have a talk.”
“Not bloody likely -“ A flash of yellow eyes cuts him off,”I mean, glad to be of assistance.”
Sam turns on his heel and goes to stand beside Castiel. “That’s what I thought.”
 
SPNSPN
 
Sam was sitting next to Castiel with his son curled up in his arm, suckling at a bottle the angel had prepared for it. Its eyes were closed in content, its wee little lips lazily pulling from the rubber nipple as the cambion gently nuzzles the side of his face with his palm. The seraph was simply observing, transfixed with astonishment at the sight.
“Can you take him? I should probably make some breakfast for our...” Sam trails off before shrugging and stating,”...guests.”
“Are you sure that it’s wise? Allowing them to stay here?” Castiel inquires gently taking Henry from the fold of his arms, and cradling him in his own. He readjusts the bottle in the infant’s mouth, who immediately resumes his suckling with a soft coo.

Sam exhales and massages his temples, before answering,”Both of them can stay at the cabin, until we can figure something else out,” He makes his way into the kitchen and begins rummaging through the cabinets,”I’m not going to treat them like intruders, Cas. They’re just trying to find a way back to their own homes.”

“I still don’t think it be wise. We don’t know these versions of you,” Castiel argues.

“I know, Cas. But I do know this is one of the safest places for them to be at the moment. Especially for the one that’s really sick... I’m hoping he’ll offer a little bit more of an explanation for that,” Sam murmurs placing a frying pan on the stove and turning up the burner’s heat. Then he opens the refrigerator and begins to grab several food stuffs.

“But I know of the other one, Sam. He is very, very dangerous,” Castiel states with a grim look on his face, bouncing the babe in his arms”Gabriel told me about him. He’s from the timeline where he didn’t intervene. I... apparently attempted to raise him from hell, but failed to bring up his soul along with his body.”

Sam freezes just as he’s about to crack an egg, still holding it over the bowl. “So, what? You’re saying he’s... soulless,” He questions with one brow raised,”... I see. I suspected that might be him. I read about him in one of the books h-he left me.”

Henry’s huge hazel eyes opened to look at him as he enjoyed his meal. Sam’s eyes, yet shaped like Gabriel’s. The child's eyes and that gold hair...everything about him was a perfect blend of the two.

“...What are we doing about the apparition that’s with your brother?”

Sam closes his eyes, and answers,”What we have to do,” He turns to look at the angel,”It’s obvious that a normal life isn’t an option at the moment. And maybe, I shouldn’t have tried in the first place?”

Castiel inquires, concerned,”What are you saying, Sam?”

“I’m going to need some help if I’m going to get these people home. So, I need to put aside my own selfish wants, and do what’s necessary to get that done.”

“Sam,” The seraph shakes his head,”You are anything but selfish. You wished for your child to have the childhood that you had. There is nothing wrong with that.”

The cambion lights coldly, and sniffs,”I-I think that by now I should’ve known better. There is no getting away from this life, b-but that’s not a bad thing,” He walks over and runs a hand through his son’s soft tufts of hair,”As long as I’ve got my friends and family, I’ll be happy.”

April 4, 2009

“Hey,” Other-Sam’s tired voice pulled Dean out of his boredom induced haze. His arms are filled to the brim with books and folders stuffed with papers, but he’s managed to balance a to-go cup of coffee on the very top of the stack.
It seemed like everyone had just up and disappeared on Dean like a damn magic act. Castiel had worriedly flown off without another word. And Bobby had assisted Sam with finding books and papers to begin what would no doubt be a long and a strenuous night of research. Dean has just gotten lost in everything.This Sam, that was so unlike the brother he currently knew was holding out the cup of coffee towards him. He smiled,”Thought you could use a little pick me up. This dimension still has that same little shop a few miles down the road...”Dean yawned, squinting his eyes at him and trying not to look as shitty as he felt. “Gracias," He grunts, accepting the steaming cup with a lousy attempt at a smile,”How're you holding up? I mean, your situation is pretty shitty man, not gonna lie.”Sam sat down his armful of books on the table before sitting down with a sigh. He scooted one over and paged through it,”I…I honestly don’t know, man,” He runs his fingers down the book’s pages,”I guess I’m just mainly confused... I just can’t help but compare this universe to my own, and notice all of the things missing. The puzzle pieces that don’t quite fit. Plus, you keep looking at me like I’m a ticking time bomb.”Dean rubbed his forehead and shook his head. He sipped his coffee, sitting up. “It’s like you said. This dimension is different,” He yawns again, and attempts to talk through it,”The you that I know, I feel like he’s a ticking time bomb half the time. And sometimes I’m secretly happy that he’s...”
“Dean, am I... dead here?”
“No,” Dean replies bluntly, taking another slurp from the coffee,”Not physically anyway. But, my little brother, I don’t know him anymore. Not the way I used to.”
Sam looks up from his book at that and questions,”What did I do?”

“You, you didn’t do anything. It was Gabriel,” Dean explains his eyes cast on the various scraps and cuts indented into the wooden table,”He said he was making things better, that he was fixing things, but from what I’ve seen and heard... Everything goes to shit either way. It just happens different ways, I guess.”

“Why do I keep hearing so much about Gabriel?” Sam inquires with his brows raised.
Dean cringes, regretting bringing the subject into questioning in the first place. “Gabriel is kind of the reason this dimension is whacked to hell and back. He traveled back in time to avert the apocalypse and save you from all of the messed up shit you’re supposed to go through after.”“So, I never go to Hell -““Never lose your soul, never lose your marbles, nothing. Anything that happened after the apocalypse is a clean slate, now.”
“You’re still not telling me something,” Sam accuses, furrowing his brows,”Gabriel wouldn’t just do all of this for nothing - What did he want?”

“...He wanted you,” Dean states coldly, taking an obnoxiously loud slurp from his coffee,”It seems the trickster has had a thing for you since day one, little brother. And he decided to act on those feelings.”

Sam’s face burned bright enough to outshine the sun and his mind scattered like a scared rabbit. “I-I... That’s ridiculous, I-I mean... H-h-h-e-e-e...” He continues rambling, mainly talking under his breath as begins to hurriedly sort through the papers and stacks upon stacks of books.
It felt like someone had suddenly turned on an internal heater inside of Sam’s system, and his skin slowly turned from a ghastly white to a shade of a ripe strawberry. The warmth had now bloomed into a full blown, sweltering heat wave.“Holy fucking shit,” Dean scoffs running a hand over his face,”Please, for the love of God, tell me you didn’t have a thing for him, too?”Sam shrugs, trying to hide his face behind a book he raises over his face. “Well, I-I, we exchanged a few flirtatious remarks, but he eventually got together with a witch from my dimension,” He clears his throat and slaps the book down on the table, flinching as he does so,”A-And seeing how he dies not too soon after... There wasn’t much I could do about it. Then again, he’s never really gone, is he?”
“Gabriel, you have to dig yourself out of this hole,” Sam presses slowly removing his hand from the door knob, turning to fully take in the archangel,”I know you think it’s safer inside. No more torture, no more pain, no more expectations... I’ve been there. You’re nothing like your family, and you sure as hell weren’t anything like your dad. Me either. Just like you, I got out, or I thought I got out.”

The hunter takes a shaking breath, and cautiously takes a few steps towards the archangel. “But then,” He continues gently,”Then my family needed me. And this is my life. No matter how many times I try and hide it, this is what I was put here to do. This is where I make the world a better place... A-and sure, yeah, hookers and Monte Carlo sounds great, but your family needs you. Jack, your nephew, needs you! The world, needs you! We need you!”

Sam’s lips tremble as the sting of tears begins to blur his vision, for Gabriel doesn’t seemed fazed by his heartfelt words in the slightest. The archangel just states off into space, too afraid to come back to the surface world. He finally, desperately, utters,”Gabriel, I need you,” He gulps heavily,”So, please, help us...”

Nothing, but a distant, vacant stare. Sam sniffs, and nods, turning his back on Gabriel and moves to leave.

“P-pornstars...”

Sam stiffens, turning on his heel to meet Gabriel’s soft, warm champagne hues. The archangel’s lips are turned into a faint smirk, and the hunter can’t help the sudden rapid beating of his heart that follows in turn.

“They were pornstars, Sam,” Gabriel corrects with a lightly amused look, as his eyes flash a brilliant blue.

“He seems pretty dead this time around,” Dean mutters, snapping Sam out of his thoughts,”He actually saved us in the end. His dick head of a brother, you know the, uh, teenage mutant ninja angel -“

“Raphael?”
Dean nods. “Yeah,” He continues,”Well, I’m not going to get into everything or we’ll be talking all day, but Gabriel had a whole plan mapped out on how to avert the apocalypse. The main thing that was essential, was that Sam had to kill Lilith before the rest of the seals broke. Raphael was attempting to take us out before Sam could snuff Lilith. So, Gabriel took one for the team, and blew both of them to kingdom come.”
“And this dimension’s Sam, he didn’t take that too well, did he?”

“Not at all. He disappeared like a fart in the wind,” Dean states with frown as he finishes off his coffee,”He’s been gone for six months, so I don’t have a damn clue if he’s even attempting to handle it.”
Sam has a thoughtful look on his face, his hazel hues staring deeply into the latter’s emerald green ones. “Dean, my Dean, he has no idea that I tend to lean more towards... men,” He admits flipping a page in the book,”Well, he probably suspects, knowing him, but I’ve never outright told him.”Dean shrugged, trying to keep his face blank. It felt like he was failing a bit at that. “Well,” He finally utters,”Sam never told me. I just kinda walked in on it happening.”
Sam’s face contorted into one of disgust and he groans,”What did you see?”

“Hands, tongues. It was horrible,” Dean moans, rubbing a hand over his eyes,”They were like twins conjoined at the lips. But it’s not like I was judgin'. I mean, whatever floats your-his-boat," He replied sheepishly, looking down into his empty cup of coffee.
“Thanks, I guess,” Sam replies with a wry laugh.
“...So, have you?”

“Have I what?”
“Ever been with another dude.”Sam lets out a surprised sputter and glances down at the book,”We don’t have to talk about this, Dean. You’re not my brother, well, you are, but you’re not... You get what I mean.”“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says with an awkward laugh,”But I figured maybe you’d like to talk about it? Maybe... Fuck I’m bad at this.”
“You always have been,” Sam reminds him with a sigh,”But yeah, twice. I was with a guy my freshmen year in college. Then years later, I met another hunter, well, he was really more of a researcher like me. He was apart of an entire organization that was dedicated to hunting, but he wasn’t like the rest of them. Unlike his coworkers, he was never a fighter. And in the end he had become too much like me and other hunters, so his organization had him... terminated.”

Dean listened and nodded,”Sam, shit, I’m really sorry that happened. Did you at least get the bastards that did it?”
Sam didn’t look up from his book and growls softly,”Every last one of them,” He turns the page and continues,”All except the son of a bitch who pulled the trigger. We need him, for now, but as soon he’s proven that he’s no longer useful...”“What?” Dean questions as he walks over to the coffee pot across the room. He picks up the pot and refills his empty coffee cup, sipping at it lightly as he turns on his heel and leans against the counter.“I’m a carrier,” Sam blurts all of a sudden.Dean coughs into his coffee and the searing liquid spills over the cup onto the floor. “Shit,” He exclaims slamming his cup onto the counter.  
“Don’t burn yourself, jeez!” Sam sat his book down and threw the latter an annoyed look.

Dean coughed a little on the hot coffee, glancing at the latter with a frown. He readjusted his position on the counter and asks,”What does that have do with the price of tea in China?”
“Grab me a cup,” Sam states, ignoring the question as he runs his fingers through his hair. Then he moves his lips, mouthing something to himself as he settles his fingers back down on the table.Dean grabs a mug and fills it with the steaming brew, before setting it down in front of Sam. “Are you going to keep me hanging?”Sam doesn’t look up just keeps mumbling under his breath. Dean blinked at him, then shrugged and grabbed his coffee mug, settling down next to him. He leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of coffee.
Sam sighed and shook his head. “You’re not going to like what I have to say,” He finally states.
“Just spit it out!”
“When I mentioned the idea of nephilim having been born in this dimension, Castiel hesitated before answering, which is about the closest thing to a tell he has.”

Dean nods and urges him,”Go on.”

“Think about what Crowley said earlier, Dean. ‘...let’s just say that he’s quite the trickster’,” Sam quotes, his mouth a thin line,”Six months is roughly the amount of time a nehphilm is carried in the womb. And since I’m a carrier, it’s not entirely impossible that, maybe... Sam, your Sam, conceived a child with Gabriel.”
Dean stares at Sam with a neutral expression for a few tense moments, before he bursts into uproarious laughter. “Okay, Sam, let me humor you. Even if you are a carrier, you do realize that in order to get knocked up you have to be on the receiving end, right?”“Yeah,” Sam says evenly.
“Uh huh, then how would those two be able to pop out a kid?”
Sam took a long drink from his cup and then looked at Dean. “Dean, just because I’m of a bigger stature doesn’t automatically mean that I have to be the top in a relationship,” He says slowly, trying to bite back his amused smile.Dean opens his mouth then closes it. He opens it again, then closes it again. Finally he stutters,”S-so, y-you...?”
“Yeah, Dean.”

“...You’re sure?”
Sam’s cheeks burn red again and he hisses,”Of course I’m sure! I’ve never topped, you idiot! Admittedly I haven’t even been enough relationships to experiment...” He trails off, mortified by the conversation, and takes another sip of coffee.“It’s just... How would that work,” Dean questions with a confused look, throwing a hand in the air.
“Do you really want me to describe my sex life to you?” Sam sighs, running a hand ove this tired face.

“No. Maybe. Well, just tell me the mechanics -“
“Oh my god,” Sam exclaims, burying his face in his hands,”Can we please get back on subject? What the hell are you doing-“Dean had taken a wooden mixing spoon and a small metal stirring spoon and was mashing them together. “See,” He says tossing both back into the table,”It just doesn’t work.”
Sam shakes his head and slams his book closed. “The point is, that your brother could be at the root of all this, and he could possibly be...” His facial expression falls faster than a corpse in cement boots.

“What?”
“Dean the nephilim were thought to have been quite destructive with their powers, so much so that when they grew into their full power, entire worlds died, causing them to be forbidden by the oldest laws of Heaven. As a result, their powers often affect the human carrying them and labor is... always fatal to the human carrier,” Sam explains with a sympathetic tone.Dean’s posture stiffens, all of his muscles go rigid as the word ‘fatal’ echoes in his hearing. He goes to stand but knocks over his coffee cup in the process, spilling scalding hot liquid all over himself. He yells out a stream of slurring curses, practically stomping over to the roll of paper towels on the counter.Sam tilts his head and pauses as he’s about to say something. After a little bit he says,”I’m only going off of what the evidence implies, Dean.”“He’s not dead, I know that for a damn fact,” Dean states as Sam shoots him a confused look. He exhales loudly and explains shortly,”Do you remember what you initially did to kill, Lilith? Well, he did that, but in a more efficient way that wouldn’t leave him reeling for another hit.”Sam leans in, sliding his chair closer. “Wait, so he didn’t do demon blood - He found something that would stick,” He blinks and shakes his head, motioning wildly with his free hand,”And you were just cool with this?”“Why is that so hard to believe?”Sam can’t help it, he scoffs. “My brother, he, uh, well, he beat me into a pulp and locked me up like a rabid dog... Not even caring if I lived or died. As long as I ‘died human’.”Dean cringed at that, turning away from him. He knows all too well what his alternate-self did to this version of his brother, and if what that archangel showed him was even half-true... that was only the beginning. Sam seems to realize what he’s thinking, and closes his eyes, running a hand over his face.
After a few seconds, Sam reassures him,”Dean, look, I understand why he did it... I-It was necessary -“
“No. No, it wasn’t, Sammy,” Dean snarls, his teeth grit tightly,”You’re his baby brother, nothing that you have or will ever do, should push him to do the shit he’s done to you! Nothing! But you wanna know the real shitty thing? I’ve considered doing all that, and more, to my own brother. And I would have... if that archangel hadn’t shown me what he did.”Sam stands and takes few steps toward him, settling his hand over Dean’s giving it a tight squeeze. He murmurs,”I’ve done things to him, unforgivable things, Dean. And your brother has, too.”Dean shrugs and pulls his hand away, turning towards the coffee pot to refill his cup. Once his mug is filled to the brim, he takes the pot and pours some into the latter’s. “Maybe, but I can guarantee you that no matter what time or place, I’ll always out do you in the dick-head department,” He gently blows onto he scalding liquid, watching as the steam puffs into the air,”I’m fairly sure that’s why my brother was a little too eager to ditch me... he was afraid.”
“Dean -“
“No,” Dean shakes his head, and takes a tentative sip of his coffee,”Don’t make excuses for me, for any of the me’s, Sammy. I mean, he’s right to be afraid, isn’t he?” He closes his eyes briefly, and states,”I’m going to ask you somethin’ and you’ve gotta answer me honestly. In your universe, if you turned into something you’re not, and I knew about it, would you stick around?”Sam slumps against the counter at that, holding his coffee mug close to his chest, almost as if he were hoping its warm him to the core. “No,” Sam admits at last,”But I wouldn’t skip town so you couldn’t kill me. No, I’d put a bullet between my own eyes, so you wouldn’t have to.”“...We’re fucked up in every universe, I’m guessing,” Dean guesses, taking another gulp of coffee. He tilts the mug in the latter’s direction with a smirk.Sam smiles wryly at that and clinks his against the latter’s. “But in all seriousness, we need to get back on task,” He yawns loudly, and quickly drinks some of his coffee to combat it,”I already know what ingredients are needed to open a portal to another universe, so at least we won’t have to go through what my brother and I did. Now, we just have to round up enough to get all four versions of your brother, including myself, that are stranded here to their respective universes.”“Plus we have to go on a goose hunt to find the other three,” Dean points out.Sam nods in acknowledgement. “We’ve got a lot of work to do,” He states shoving a few books in the latter’s direction, and tapping them with one finger,”So, you’re going to have to help me out with some of the literature.”Bobby chooses that moment to walk in. “What’d I miss?” The seasoned hunter questions, plopping at the table.“Old Man Sammy here, has given me the nose in the book penalty,” Dean quips, grabbing one of the books and pretends to read it, not noticing that it’s upside down.“Uh huh,” Bobby murmurs turning to Sam,”So, what exactly do we need to open a rift back to your world? I’ve got some guys I can call, if I don’t have all of it here -“Sam interrupts with a slight frown. “I doubt your guys will have anything we need, Bobby. The ingredients that are needed for this sort of spell aren’t exactly your everyday, run-of-the-mill goat’s blood,” He taps the notepad under his hand and lists off,”We need blood of a most holy man, fruit from the Tree of Life, the Seal of Solomon, archangel grace, and something that has already been to the world in question to act as a guide.”
“Balls,” Bobby mutters, snatching the note pad out from under the latter’s hand,”Any chance we can pass off some pomegranates off as ‘fruit from the tree of life’?”

“Doubtful.” Sam takes a long sip from his drink, and huffs in aggravation.
Dean glances over the list and states,”At least we’ve got you. Somethin’ from the other side.”Outside the gravel in drive way crunches loudly as someone pulls in. Everyone sitting at the table glances up, and attempts to see from the window, but the figure driving the car isn’t visible. Sam suddenly takes in a deep, shaking breath and a shiver rolls down his spine; something powerful was near. Dean stares at him in concern, but refocuses on the foreign car parked in the driveway.
“Expecting anyone, Bobby?” Dean questions hopefully.

“Nope,” Bobby answers, grabbing his shotgun from the kitchen counter, before making his way to his front door.

Sam and Dean follow, though Dean makes sure to stay in front of the latter, since he doesn’t have a weapon handy on him. Habit, he guesses. Even when he realizes this isn’t technically his brother, so he isn’t his responsibility, he still doesn’t move a damn inch. He curses internally at the weak spot that was every version of his baby brother.
There’s a knock at the door and Bobby swings the door open, aiming the shotgun towards whoever was standing there. Then the seasoned hunter’s eyes widen in surprise and his mouth makes an ‘o’ shape as he slowly lowers his shotgun to his side.
“Hey,” Sam, or rather a Sam, greets with a small smile.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

April 4, 2009

“Sammy,” Dean utters in confusion, lowering his handgun,”Wait, are you Sam-Sam, or just another - ?”Sam smiles slightly at that, his dimples flashing, and for a sweet, brief second, Dean forgets everything that had happened to lead them here, to this very moment. “Yeah, I’m Sam-Sam,” He confirms, rubbing at the back of his neck,”Look, I’m not even going to get into explanations right now, man. Right now, we’ve got something bigger than our personal family drama.”
Dean motions to Other-Sam at his back, and scoffs,”I kinda got that. We’ll put it on the back burner... for now”.
“For now,” Sam agrees, a flicker of guilt in his eyes,”Oh, I see you’ve met another me. This is -“
“Awkward,” Other-Sam finishes, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, well, I’ve got one more in the back, and another at my house,” Sam says, and then he cranes his neck in the direction of his vehicle parked outside.
All three of them follow him outside, and the passenger door opens revealing yet another Sam. He stumbles out, nearly going to his knees, if it wasn’t for the oldest of the counterparts catching him. Dean shook his head, blinking rapidly, wondering if he should be seeing cartoon birds hovering in his vision. 
“I’m going to have to give you all name tags. You guys are making my fucking head spin,” Dean comments as he follows one of his brothers to the back of the vehicle.

Older Sam points out with an amused expression,”We’re pretty easy to tell apart, Dean.”

“Okay... Samuel,” Dean replies, pointing to him,”Sorry, but oldest is stuck with the full name. So, I guess that makes wobbly-legs over there... Samson. Ironically, of course. Seeing as he’s not exactly the strongest man at the moment. And Sam-Sam is... just Sam I guess.”
Samson rolls his eyes and gently pushes off Samuel, standing unsteadily on his own feet. “Does he think he’s funny in every damn dimension,” He questions aloud, taking a few unsteady steps forward,”Guh!”Samuel grabs his arm and steadies him, looking at him with concern and inquires knowingly,”Trials?”“Y-Yeah,” Samson answers with a slight nod. Samuel stays close to him to make sure he doesn’t stumble, again, but he doesn’t say anything.Dean moves to stand at the other side of Samson, but then he hears it. A soft cooing noise as his brother opens the back door. He stops for second, turning his head in the direction of the odd, little sound. Sam suddenly pulls out a wee little bundle, and cradles it in his arms, gently shushing it.“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” He gently adjusts the blanket, and whispers,”Shh, hey, it’s okay. Go back to sleep. Go back to sleep...” There was a loud sneeze and the entire car shook violently, and the lightbulbs on the engine lights exploded in a glassy wave of shards.Sam didn’t seem fazed in the slightest, more annoyed than anything. “You are just like your father,” He growled quietly as things began to settle. He waves one hand over the broken glass, his free hand still cradling the bundle to his chest, and in the blink of an eye, his engine lights are intact, again.Both Bobby and Dean are staring at him like he’s got lobsters crawling out of his ears because Sam has a baby. An actual living, breathing baby in his arms. The severe neutrality of his little brother’s features melted into something tender, and his heart twisted painfully at seeing him cradle the infant. He was tempted to storm over to the two, not sure what he would do once he got there. He wanted to rant, rave, scream. Wanted to make the pain go away, but was unsure how. He was so angry, he couldn’t even see straight. “And since I’m a carrier, it’s not entirely impossible that, maybe... Sam, your Sam, conceived a child with Gabriel.”
Sam met Dean’s eyes and all of that tenderness melted away like a snowflake on the sun. Pain twisted Sam’s features, and without a word, he quickly rushed away, into the house. He did not look back.
Dean was about to storm after him, demand an explanation, when Bobby’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder. “Son,” The seasoned hunter warns,”Just walk it off. Don’t need ya blowing a fuse in my house.”Dean nods stiffly, and goes in the direction of the slightly wooded area beside the house. He sits on one of the many rotting stumps, not moving when he feels a dampness start to deep into the bottom of his jeans. From where he sits, he can see into the window in the living room, and his eyes narrow at the sight of Bobby and Sam exchanging words.Bobby doesn’t look the slightest bit upset, if anything he looks sympathetic. Or as sympathetic as the crotchety old man will let himself look. Sam is still gently rocking the baby in his arms, while his lips move every so once in a while, no doubt trying to explain just how in the hell he ended up with an ankle bitter.
Dean abruptly stands, and he’s once again tempted to stir into the house. Instead, he growled aloud and turned to one of the many trees, swerved his fists until they met with bark. The shocking pain of the punch traveled up his arm, but he didn’t register the pain. Instead he set about attacking the tree viciously, pummeling it as though it were the very thing that had orchestrated this entire fucked up situation.

After a few minutes of pointless, thoughtless punching, he stopped. Shaking from exhaustion, fury still clinging to every fiber of his being, he slumped over, gasping as he stared down at the ground. He was actually sick at the prospect of coming face to face with his little brother again. How the hell had this happened?
He sat quietly trying to wrap his mind around the mystery that was his brother. Every time he thought he knew something, he didn’t. Just when he thought he understood, he was wrong. Meeting this other, older version of his brother had shed some light on what he might be feeling. But that light was the equivalent of a flash light in a closed coffin.Then again, Dean doesn’t know why he’s so surprised. It’s not like this was a first time thing for Sam. Lying, keeping secrets, trying futility to keep him out of the fold - Hell, ditching him, again.

The Winchester family finds themselves in yet another motel room in the middle of nowhere. They’re investigating several gristly murders in the area, all of the victims pregnant young women. John thinks it’s a lamia, but they have no evidence to support this; they’ve been forced to hit the books. Dean is beginning to get the idea that these murders might not be supernatural at all, but Sam isn’t ready to accept that.

For that reason, they sit across from each other at the too-small table, flipping through ancient texts and newspaper clippings. Sam has his laptop open and they take turns browsing through various websites, switching when their eyes start to squint, and their heads start to pound and their hearts clench uncomfortably in their chests. The internet is graphic, and this case is painful and neither of them really wants to look at mutilated bodies of women for too long.

“So get this,” Sam proclaims after nearly three hours of tense silence,”Aristotle's ‘Nicomachean Ethics’ (vii.5) refers to the lore of a beastly being in the shape of a woman, which tears the bellies of pregnant mothers and devours their fetus,” Dean glances up, his brow raised in peaked interest,”An anonymous commentator on the passage states this is a reference to the Lamia but muddlingly combines this with Aristotle's subsequent comments and describes her as a Scythian of the Black Sea area—“

“No one is making you go you know.”

Sam Winchester tensed in his chair, startled by both the suddenness of his brother’s voice interrupting him and the fact that his voice was laced with venom. “Dean,” Sam cautioned, his expression indicating a silent threat,” Please, let’s not start this again.”

The older Winchester took a few confident steps in his brother’s direction, and replies,” Sammy, you could stay here, maybe do some online classes or something, ” He stops mere inches from the latter’s face and continues, ”You don’t have to go—”

Sam eyed his brother warily, they had had this conversation far too many times, and not once had it ended without a shouting match. The younger Winchester argued,” Dean, I can’t do this anymore! T-this life, everything about it—I have to get away, ” He shakes his head, backing away from his brother until his chair scoots against wall, ”I mean, bottom line, you spend years and years trying to tear through as many monsters as possible and what do you have to show for it? I’ll tell you. A drink in your hand, and a bullseye on your back!”

“It’s better on one of us, then one of them,” Dean’s features flashed beneath the surface of his hardened expression and he clearly wasn’t above pleading, ”Is it really that easy for you, leaving dad and I behind, so you can chase your dreams of an apple-pie life? We have always been there for you, through thick and thin, and this is how you repay us? Sammy, come on, don’t go!”

Sam sighed,” You chose this life, Dean. Saving people, hunting things, the family business, ” He gives his brother one of his signature ‘bitch’ faces, slamming his laptop shut, ”That was your mistake, and I’m sorry, but I’m not going down with you. Because with this job, when you fall, you’re going to fall hard— “

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the first fist came flying out of nowhere. Sam shook his head and wiped the blood off his lip, sighing his approval as though one punch would be enough to vent out all of his feelings, enough to provide some resolve to the situation. Sam doubled over gasping from the second rage-fueled punch to his face; he was well and truly pained, and angry.

"You okay,” Dean asked, slowly raising his lowered fist. Sam gulped then nodded, swiping at the blood tinged from his split lip. “Sam,” The older Winchester began, "You know I would never_" His voice caught in his throat, unable to even say it. “Shit, I’m sorry, man— “

Sam held up his hand, and slowly raised his eyes to meet his brother’s. There was a sheen of unshed tears glazed over them, the rims red as he sniffed,” Don’t,” He shakes his head and lets out a cold laugh,”Don’t pretend that you haven’t been wanting to do that for a long time, Dean. And I’ll admit, it’s been a long time coming on my part, but I’m not changing my mind. I-I’m not normal…”

“Sammy—For God’s sake— “

“Dean,” Sam continues,” I’m not normal, we’ve both known this for a long time, but maybe if I get out of here, away from this life, away from hunting…” He couldn’t stand to look into his distraught brother’s eyes any longer, and glances away swiping angrily at his eyes.

Dean nods, he nods ever so slowly and sniffs, his own eyes starting to redden with unshed tears. He replied with a sneer,” Whatever, Sam, just—“ He snatches the keys from the top-small table, and storms out of the room slamming the door behind him.
Dean looks back, and wonders what would have happened if he’d just let Sam go, right then and there. Sure, he’d let him go to Stanford, but for years he yearned for a way to bring him back. When his father went missing, he jumped at the opportunity to drag his little brother back into the life he’d never wanted to live. He wishes Gabriel had chosen that moment to change.
Dean didn’t startle, but sat absolutely still as the source of his torment came to sit in front of him. Sam sat down right in front of him, leaning forward ever so slightly, but he refused to look up. He wasn’t sure if he’d end up punching him in the face or start ranting. He refused to do the either. The silent treatment would have to do for now.
For a tense moment they sat in silence, neither moving until Sam leaned forward. Reaching out, he took ahold of one of Dean’s hands in his own, causing the older brother to snap his head up. The younger brother carefully guided an alcoholic wipe to his brother’s hand, running it over the bloodied appendage. In the silence he studied his brother, taking in the emotionless mask he’d decided to put on.Then Sam pulled out a roll of bandages and gently rolled them around his brother’s knuckles, fastening them in place when he was done. The action was tender, contrasting with the neutral expression he wore as he did it. A million questions surged in the older brother’s mind, but none burst free from his lips.Instead, Sam broke the silence,”You have a lot of questions, I’m guessing.”“Oh, you know, just a handful,” Dean states sarcastically, pulling his hand away from his brother, not missing the narrowing of eyes,”...When were you gonna tell me that I have a nephew?”“Honestly, I don’t know if I was ever going to,” Sam admits softly,”And don’t ask me to explain why. I couldn’t tell you even if you did.”Dean frowns at that but stays silent, for a moment. “So, he’s a nephilim? Gabriel’s kid?”
Sam slowly nods, sniffing as he answers,”Yeah, I-I found out right after he died. It was insane, of course, but I-I... I don’t know what I would have done these past few months if I didn’t have something to keep me going. And he did.”

“What’s the ankle-bitter’s name?”

“Henry. Henry Steven Winchester,” Sam answers with a fond smile on his face.
“You named him after grandad?”A blush worked its way onto Sam’s face, even as he shrugged. “And Bobby. I wasn’t just going to separate him from my family entirely. He’s still a Winchester,” He answers simply.
“It’s... a good name,” Dean nodded.
“Dean, I’m not going to get into why I did what I did. Not right now, not with all that’s going on. I’m standing by that,” Sam murmurs softly, turning towards his brother,”But, we will talk. For now, I need your help to get these people back to their homes.”Dean’s jaw clenches and takes every bit of his will not to argue. “Okay,” He concedes.
“Okay?”

“Okay,” Dean sighs and runs a hand over his face, asking,”So, do I get to meet the kid?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that, a lot,” Sam answers with a hint of a smile.

Upon entering the house together, Dean found Samson laid up on the ratty couch with Samuel hovering nearby. Bobby was up, as if just having entered the room, and turned when he heard the door swing open. When he saw the two brothers, he raised an eyebrow at them, but didn’t say a word. Even when both ignored the seasoned hunter, not slowing or responding to his silent inquiry.
Sam led Dean to the back of the house, to the spare room the two used to share when their father would drop them off, when a hunt went off the rails. Sam carefully opened the door, andDean’s eyes immediately settled on one of the twin beds that lay on the right side of the room. It had several pillows piled up in a square on it to form a makeshift crib.Sam stooped over to pick up the infant, laughing when his son’s little eyes blinked open and he gave him a gummy smile. Well, not entirely, there were little crevices where teeth had begun to form. Sam slowly walked over to Dean, rocking his son his arms as he hummed softly.
“Whoa, whoa,” Dean objects as Sam starts to put the infant in his arms.

“Relax,” Sam states, amused. He forcefully folds his brother’s arms into the correct position, then situates the infant in his arms.
Dean frowns deeply, not moving a muscle as his nephew gapes at him with wide hazel hues. “What are you looking at?” He asks the infant gruffly, bristling when the only reply he gets is a gurgle,”How old is he?”
“Er, about a few days,” Sam answers.

Dean blinks at that. “...Days?” Henry begins to wiggle in his arms, letting out soft whimpers as he wiggles his little fists left and right,”Stop... wiggling... you... little...”
Sam gazes down at his son longingly. Castiel and Alflie had been commenting that he was growing fast, and he was definitely aware of it. He gained weight every day and ate much more than they expected. It was Castiel who realized that, although the newborn was barely a few days old, Henry was the size of a six-month-old infant. That meant that not only had the pregnancy been accelerated, but his growing was too.
That made Sam a little sad. His son's childhood would be over far too quickly. In no time, he would be walking, talking, and... The cambion shook his head, sniffing lightly as he focuses on the sight of his brother attempting to hold his son. Now, was not the time to be having a breakdown.
Henry’s protesting whimpers turn into irritated, throaty whines. Abruptly, one of his little feet thrashes out of his brother’s hold and slams into chest with a loud wheeze. Sam quickly scoops the infant from Dean’s arms, trying to contain his laughter as his brother goes to his knees, clutching at his chest and wheezing.“Kid knocked the damn breath out of me,” Dean coughs out, his face red,”Are you laughing? Sam-“Sam snorts loudly as he tries to cover up his amused laughter. “It’s just nice to see it happen to someone that’s not me,” He admits, laughing harder, so hard tears start to fall down his cheeks.Dean sniffs lightly and utters,”He’s gonna kick some ass when he’s grown. You... you should be proud of him.”“I am,” Sam agreed, before staring in his son in his arms,”He’s... He means everything to me.”“I can see why.”Deciding things were getting a little too sentimental for his tastes, Dean wryly shoots back,”Well, he must like you a hella lot, Sammy, seeing as he yanked another four of you from different dimensions,” He folds his arms over his chest and cranes his neck to the side,”Let’s go try and clean up his mess.”Sam hesitates for a second, but concedes, settling his son in the makeshift crib. Dean leads the way as he begins a march into the living room, when he abruptly states,”I guess you thought diapers were gonna be the only messes you had to clean-“Sam’s eyes flashed yellow, signaling he’d grown tired of the joke. Dean holds up his hands in mock surrender, but doesn’t say anything more. Samuel is sitting in front Bobby, both chatting idly over piping hot mugs of coffee. They both cut their conversations short, when they eye the brothers coming into the living room.
“Well, my house is still in one piece, some I’m guessing a few things went right,” Bobby comments, sipping at his coffee.
Samson clears his throat, craning his head in the direction of where Samson is passed out on the couch. “We need to talk about his situation,” He points out, setting down his mug, but keeping his hands around it, one finger tapping at the side.“Do you know what’s wrong with him?” Sam inquires, concern etched into his features.“Yeah,” Dean urges,”Poor guy, he’s all shaky knees and bloody noses.”
Samson nods gravely and explains in a soft voice,”He’s going through something called the Trials of God. It’s a series of tests designed by God himself, in order to seal the gates of Hell.”

“Damn, that’s a hell of a magic trick in my book,” Bobby declares, lifting up his hat and running his fingers through his thinning hair.

“Yeah,” Dean agrees,”But what’s got him keeling over?”
“The trials have a nasty effect on the person doing them, since the body and soul are pretty much going through the blender. Not even an angel can set them straight... not from the outside, anyway,” Samuel clarifies, downing the rest of his coffee. Smacking his lips, he goes on,”And once the trials are complete, the person doing them... dies.”“The ultimate sacrifice,” Sam realizes, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Exactly,” Samuel replies.
Dean frowns deeply as he growls,”Screw that. Why’s God always gotta have a flair for the dramatic,” He shakes his head in distaste and continues,”So, how do you know all this? Did some sap go through with this in your dimension?”
“...I was the sap,” Samuel reveals quietly.
Everyone in room goes silent at that, their facial expressions surprised. Bobby speaks first,”Wait, so how are you still up and kicking?”“I-I stopped... at the very last second,” Samuel answers, his voice shaking,”Dean, my Dean, he asked me... begged me to stop, when he found out I would be the ultimate sacrifice to slam the gates shut.”Dean feels his lips twitch ever so slightly, when he sees the regret etched into Samuel’s features. “Sammy,” Both Sams turn to glance at him,”...Samuel, you shouldn’t feel shitty for that. Nothing, nothing is worth losing you,” His eyes flit between both of his brothers,”Either of you.”
Samuel and Sam look flabbergasted, and each of their actions are mirrored as their hazel eyes swell with affection and love, and they tilted their heads ever so slightly.
“Dean,” They say softly in unison.“Well, that’s not creepy,” Dean comments, eager to change the subject,”So, What can we do about Samson?”
Samuel glances over at his counter part passed out on the couch. “I-I don’t know,” He admits,”The trials didn’t get that bad until I was at very last one, and on the brink of closing the gates. Though, I do have a theory,” He swallows thickly and goes on,”When I was doing the trials, the longer I had to wait inbetween them, the sicker I got. So, since he was yanked out of his dimension-”

“He can’t go on to the next trial,” Sam finishes, nodding grimly.

Dean’s eyes narrow and he demands,”So, what? He’ll just keep getting worse and worse until...”

“His body waves a white flag,” Bobby says, his expression darkening in realization.
“We have to find a way to get him home, now,” Sam states firmly, his mouth a thin line,”At least then, he’ll get to choose if he lives or dies.”
Dean speaks up,”We’ve already got a spell, and all we need, now, are the ingredients.”

“...Let’s get to work.”
 
SPNSPN

“Dean,” Sam exclaims amidst brushing his latest conquest’s hair out of her face. His lips twitch into a lazy attempt at a smile, but his brother doesn’t seem amused, whatsoever.

Dean sweeps his arms across the room and growls,”What the hell?”

The hippie chick that was sprawled over him makes on a ‘oh’ face and cheerfully asks,”Oh, that’s Dean?” She smiles dreamily and tightens her arms around her sexual partner’s shoulder blades,”Sam, they brought your brother back.”

Awkward silence ensues as the hippie chick crawls off of him, and begins to pull her scattered clothes back on. She takes her sweet, little time, waltzing about the motel room, gathering the rest of her things. And then she finally grabs her vintage boots and typical hippie purse, before making her way towards the doorway of their motel room.

“Okay,” She sighs, running her fingers through her hair,”It’s alright, Sam. I so totally understand. You need time as a family.”

Dean glances up at that, his facial expression murderous. But as the hippie chick comes his way, he just purses his plush lips and keeps his gaze down. Then he smiles awkwardly, keeping his eyes squeezed shut when she shoots him a tiny, warm smile.

Then she spins on her heel and squeaks out,”But, it’s just... What were they like?

Dean scowls, his face twisting in annoyance, and spits out,”They were grabby, incandescent douchebags. Good night.”

The hippie chick chuckles lightly and murmurs,”Too soon. Okay,” And then the door is promptly slammed in her face.

Sam frowns deeply, and utters,”You’re upset...”

Dean turns on his heel, pointing an acusing finger at his brother as he grits out,”I was abducted. And you were banging Patchouli.”

“I didn’t think she smelled that bad.”

“I was abducted by aliens!”

“I was looking into it,” Sam retorts.

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up and he shouts,”Looking into it! I was gone for, like, an hour!”

“An hour-“

“And most of that was walking back into town!”

Sam states,”Dean, I think your watch is off. You’ve been gone all night.”

“What are you talking about? No I haven’t. Four a.m.?”

“Yeah! UFO time slip,” Sam exclaims, looking way to excited,”That actually falls in line with a lot of abduction stories.”

“Falls in line...”

“Yeah.”

“Nothing’s falling in line.”

Sam stands up and pours Dean a drink, awkwardly holding it out to him. “Here. Drink. Good.”

“Thank you,” Dean says, taking the offered glass.

Sam nods and takes a seat beside him on the bed, stating,”Yeah. Now. Come on. Talk to me. What happened?”

“Well, uh, there was this...” Dean groans aloud,”God help me, Sam, there was this bright white light!”

“It’s okay,” Sam gives him a tight lipped smile, and pats his leg. Dean looks at him incredulously,”Safe room.”

“And then suddenly, I was, uh, I was in a different place. And there were these beings, and they were too bright to look at, but I could feel them pulling me towards this sort of table—“

“Probing table!”

“God,” Dean yells,”Don’t say that out loud!”
Sam looks vaguely confused, not getting what he did wrong. He shakes his head and goes on,”Right. So what did you do?”
“I went crazy. I started hacking and slashing and firing,” Dean chuckles, a prideful look on his face,”They actually seemed surprised. I don’t think anybody’s ever done that before. Yeah. I had a close encounter, Sam, and I won.”

“...You should take a shower.”

“I should take a shower. I’m gonna, I’m gonna take a shower now.”
Castiel sighs, setting down the book titled ‘Supernatural: Clap Your Hands If You Believe’. Sam hadn’t deemed it necessary to give Michael any of the books that take place after the apocalypse. The seraph had decided to try and learn as much about this soulless character as he could, for he didn’t lack to be lacking in knowledge when faced with a possible foe. Castiel feels another being enter the room and looks up to see the very version of Sam he’d just been reading about.“Weird. The Castiel in my dimension isn’t exactly very... homey towards me. In fact, he’s quite the opposite. A real feathery thorn in my side,” Soulless comments,”I mean, he wasn’t exactly my biggest fan before, but when my soul took a stroll down hellfire lane...”Castiel narrows his eyes, setting the book aside. “Perhaps it is because you do not deserve such kindness,” He retorts, not even attempting to hide the venom in his voice,”The things you’ve done... The people you’ve hurt... Sam, the real Sam, he would never, ever -““I am Sam. And Sam I am,” Soulless interrupts, his eyes lazily swiveling to the pile of books at the latter’s side,”Reading up on me? That’s cute, real cute, Cas. Kind of teeter-tottering on the creepy side there. While I am flattered-““I would never...!” Castiel exclaims, his cheeks burning red.Soulless chuckles lightly,”Relax, Clarence. I was just yanking your feathers.”Castiel narrows his eyes dangerously, and turns away to walk out of the room, when he hears Soulless say,”...Don’t tell me you’re actually sweet on him?”
“...I-I don’t...” The seraph shakes his head in confusion.

Soulless rolls his eyes and tries,”...have a sweet spot for...”
Another head shake.“...carry a torch for...”Soulless made his way through the room, when the walls around him began reflecting an odd, flickering golden light. A strange kind of energy filled the room, making the many book’s pages flutter, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he jumped at the sight of a large pulsating crack in mid-air. Castiel, who was right beside him, also sees this and tenses.
“...Again,” Soulless grunts out.

The space around it flashed and the next thing Sam knew, a single figure entered the room. He appeared before them, in all his grandeur. A crisp white jacket with an slightly off-white button up. His chiseled jaw was with a lax, lush pink set of lips set in a thin line. His eyes a stunning hazel, so much like his own, and his soft, feather-like brown hair is tucked behind his ears. It was then Sam realized, he was staring into his own face, despite the blatant differences.

Before Soulless could make sense of it, his counterpart began to walk towards Soulless, seemingly taking no notice of the angel. He didn't make a sound, but he didn't have to. Neither Soulless or Castiel were prepared to fight, and they had not idea what they were up against, so the human held his hands out in surrender with the angel slowly starting to imitate him.
His counterpart’s voice was that of a spoiled, rich boy, honeyed and proud. “Castiel,” The one word he uttered sounded beautiful, but neither the angel or the human felt compassion or trust for the speaker. A snap of his fingers, a bright flash of light that enveloped the angel’s body, and Castiel was gone.

Soulless flinches, shielding his eyes, before staring at the area where the angel had stood mere seconds ago. He quickly moves his hand to his back, reaching for the gun situated there, and he quickly raises it to aim at the invader. He allowed his finger to curl around the trigger and frowned grimly.

The latter inclined his head forwards, his eye-brows raised in a questioning manner. His facial expression was one of absolute disinterest. He sighed. To him, Soulless was less than the mud on his over-shined shoes. After a moment, the silent stand-off was won when his doppelgänger utters,”Put the gun to your forehead.”

Soulless grunts as he felt his own gun push against his temple, and the hand holding it was trembling, trying to fight whatever force was willing it. His doppelgänger casually situated his body against one of the wooden bookshelves with a face of utter nonchalance, as if he were merely waiting for a bus on a spring day, apple in hand. He isn't slumped at all, his body is clearly too muscular for that, yet it is just as relaxed as his face. He's almost smiling – an expression as if something good were about to happen. Good for him is likely bad for Soulless. Very bad.

“Walk through the portal,” His doppelgänger states.
“Listen, sharp-dressed man,” Soulless snarls, the gun shaking in his hand,”If you think I’m going to - - aghhhh!”The hunter clattered to the ground as pain took him to his knees, ripping through him, doubling him over. Still leaning on the book case, lax expression still on his face, his look-a-like stares at him, watching as he clutched his arms across his abdomen, vomiting blood, choking on it. Fire burned through every inch of him. The pain consumed him, took his breath away from his lungs. 
“Walk through the portal,” His doppelgänger repeats, his voice calm, almost gentle.

“No,” He managed with all of his strength. The gun was still in his hand, he couldn’t find the strength to let go of it.
The look-a-like leaves his spot on the book case, and crouches over Soulless, his finger tracing up the side of his stomach. The shock of the pain made him clench his teeth, even though he had no intention of giving the satisfaction of the latter seeing how much it hurt. Every muscle in his body locked rigid with the agony of the finger against his side. His mind was filled with the want of having it off him. His doppelgänger pushed the slightest bit harder, making him spit up through his locked teeth. He heard a pop, and felt a couple of ribs crack.
His doppelgänger moved his finger away; warm blood oozed down his side. Soulless was covered in sweat as he lay on the hard wood floor, panting, sweat running down his eyes. He felt as if the pain was pulling every muscle in his body apart. And finally, he gave in, seeing no other option.

“F-f-fuck... Okay. You hear me,” Soulless snarls, panting heavily,”I tap out.”

“You’re more resilient than others, I’ll give you that,” His counterpart purrs, his lips quirking in the slightest hint of amusement,”Like a rat clawing its way through one’s intestines to escape fire.”

With great difficulty, the hunter rose to his feet and walked towards the portal. His look-a-like watched him without emotion as he stood looking up at him. He waited in silence. Then Soulless stumbled, and fell limp against the latter’s hard, muscled chest. Clearly unamused, his counterpart laced his fingers through his hair, he was yanked back up and shoved into the direction of the portal.
“If you fall, again, if you even stumble,” His look-a-like’s voice was chilling as he issued the threat,”I swear to dear old dad, I’ll just drag your still warm corpse through that portal.” 
Soulless couldn’t help his bloody smile,”You aren’t going to kill me, you obviously need me-“

“Put the gun to your head, and pull the trigger,” His doppelgänger orders softly.

There was a resounding gunshot, and the casing of a bullet’s shell clattered on the ground. Soullless’ body fell to the ground with a loud ‘thud’, a pool of blood quickly seeping from the gaping hole in his temple. The doppelgänger, inclined his head forward, his lips peeking ever so slightly into a smirk. He snapped his fingers again, and Soulless’ limp corpse levitated into the air and began going towards the portal.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Lucifer walked down the winding cobblestone steps, leading into the main throne room, his plush lips twisting violently into a sneer. He hears the hurried, terrified whispers of his kingdom in the walls, fading into the distance and falling into the cavernous pits. The tortured screams had seemingly halted, and for the first time since the beginning, hell was silent and waiting.“You cannot hide from me, not here,” Lucifer asseverates with an imperceptible tilt of his head,”Not in my kingdom. Do my children scurry, fearing their absent father? I have been long, long gone, trapped in the dark right under your noses. But I am free, free at last. Now, I have reclaimed my throne from a usurper, a false king meant to lead you astray. I am here, now, yet I am not greeted with love nor praise, but pure, unbridled fear.”Voices hiss and whisper in the darkness down, down, down deep, spiraling into nothingness. The sulfuric fires extinguished, the rumbling stone stilled, the waves upon, upon waves of demons, that create a sea of inky black, go eerily still. All of hell listens attentively.
“You, all of you, you fear me. You fear a master who has never shown his face. The one behind the man holding the whip. You are rightfully afraid, but fear, fear is good, my children. Fear is the fastest way to compliance. But I do not want your compliance or silence,” Lucifer announces, folding his hands behind his back, an easy smile gracing his lips,”No, I want something more. For far, far too long I have been trapped in a cage of my father’s making, as have you, my children. Sentenced to burn for some measly earthly sins. Tell me, my children, does the punishment fit the crime?”
The whispers grow louder, unsure, but steadily growing. Lucifer gently presses his palm to the heated stone, drumming his frigid fingers against it. The voices fall, and he goes on. He exhales, his lips forming an almost mocking smile, his breath misting.
“You are all disgustingly human, even behind these twisted masks you wear. Who knows you better than I? I know all of your sins, but I do not fault you for them, I bear you no ill will - You are human, therefore you are sin. It is not on your heads, nor mine, but on the one who made you this way,” Lucifer croons, his voice warm and empathetic,”It is in your nature to stumble, to fall, to do what you want, though it may not necessarily be right. But is that in itself wrong? No. Do we punish carnivores for feasting on meat, though they must take another’s life to satisfy their own hunger? No because it is in their nature.”
Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer... The voices hiss, calling to their father, their maker, the one who would free them from their cages.“You want to break free as I did. Free of the pain, the guilt, the sorrow, and the punishment that follows it all... I say no more. No more! No more will you suffer for your sins, for your downfalls as a human,” Lucifer roars raising his hands high, and the very depths of his kingdom quiver, the foundations shaking,”No human is better than another. My children, you are all monsters. But that word has been twisted by weak minded men, by those who would bend the knee, to a god who would condemn them for what they are. For the way they were made. They fall in line, while you, my children, divide it. No, monsters, they’re the strongest of all the creatures that walk above and below earth - Because they’ve suffered the most, they’ve earned what they’ve taken. Nothing was ever given to you... so you have been forced to take it. Take it. Your flaws are your greatest powers, your source of strength, your sword and shield. Use them! Take what is yours - Pilege, rape, steal, until the ones who made you slither on your belly’s fall... just as you did. Oh, and how they’ll fall, they’ll fall just as all humans do. Because that is their nature...”Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer.... The voice cry for him, scream for him, their true king is on the throne at last!“My children, go. Go your own way,” Lucifer decrees, waving his hand as he turns on his heel and begins to walk towards the great throne at the head of the room. He runs his vessel’s hand over one side of it, his nails chipping at the bundled bones and stone that make up the structure,”If you want something... you take it. It’s as simple as that.”Lucifer sighs deeply as he sinks into the chair, the rigid and brittle bones that form the sharp winged back, making it nearly impossible to sit back in. The archangel remembers the early construction of this throne, when he’d fused the bones of Adam and Eve to the first foundations of hell, raising it from the ground, and watching it twist into the mutilated structure he sat in presently. Formed of the bones of his first enemies, he sat on their remains, while he, like a serpent, had merely shed his previous skin.“You tried to discard my throne, dog,” Lucifer states coldly, his gaze flickering to the cowering demon in the corner, that was currently lapping at the bloodied floor with his tongue.Crowley lifted his head, his tongue resting in his mouth as he utters,”Well, to be frank, it was a pain in the ass.”Lucifer chuckles at that, his deep laughter booming down the torch lit halls. “A throne, a true throne, should not be comfortable. A king should not sit easy,” He purrs softly, lazily crossing his ankles as he splays his arms over either side of the throne,”Hellhound got your tongue? Speak with respect, dog.”“Y-You..,” Crowley spits out at that last, before sinking again, keeping his gaze to the floor,”...y-your grace.”“Oh, mouthy little child of mine,” Lucifer let’s out a long suffering sigh and rolls his eyes,”Whatever will I do with you? What punishment can I bestow that will be worse than rotting in the pits of hell itself?”Crowley bows his head,”Forgive me, your grace. Allow me to return to my chores -““No,” Lucifer states plainly, combing his fingers through his long hair,”I fear that forgiveness is not in my nature, but retribution - Paying for what you’ve done, piece by piece, why that’s the whole basis of hell, is it not?”The demon licks his dry, quivering lips and chokes out,”And that whole spiel you just gave your plebes?”The archangel smiles at his words, his dazzlingly white teeth more like fangs than canines. “Something to stoke the fire,” He utters cooly,”A few pokes with an iron and the embers turn to fire. And fire is just what I need.”“Your grace -““No more idle chat. Go retrieve my guest, see if he wants to earn some scraps. He may not have a soul, but he does have a stomach, that is not doubt growling and burning with hunger by now.”Crowley bows, again, brushing his hands over his pants legs, and making his way down the dimly lit hallway. With Lucifer’s blessing, the other demons in hell were stirring up a storm, no doubt planning something poor in taste. He’d thought hell had evolved past flaying and meat hooks, but the rest of his kind had happily gone back to their past ways. No doubt, his eminence, was already doing away with the Wi-Fi.Sam, or rather his soulless counterpart, was passed out in his cell, his face a mess of caked on blood and dirt. His lips are parted ever so slightly, and he’s muttering to himself, his head twitching. Crowley grabs the bucket of water set beside the barred door and tosses its contents over the sleeping body, smirking as he flails and comes screaming to life.
“Mhmm,” Soulless’ fingers comb through his greasy hair, his nails digging at the dried blood,”With all these scars I’m accumulating, I’m gonna need all the beauty sleep I can get.”
“Ah, dry and witty as usual. So, so refreshing,” Crowley sighs,”I see you’ve been having a grand ‘ol time.”Soulless sits up and lays his back against the stone wall, his hazel eyes cool and calculating, flickering over his surroundings. “Well, when I didn’t seeing any busty blondes patrolling with riding crops, I was just relieved that I was in hell, not Dean’s sex dungeon,” He stands up in shaky legs, grimacing and brushing his hand over his temple,”Bad news is, I’ve already been spit out of this dump once - Don’t know if I can pull the same feat twice -“Crowley huffs and states,”We do not have time for your damn motor mouth! Your bosom buddy has seized hell by the shirt and curlies! These bloody demons turned on me faster than bad clams,” He goes on, motioning for the human to move forward,”I’m just lucky it took a damn while for your sharp-dressed counterpart to bring my kingdom to its damn knees. Demons are stubborn, until they realize the being they’re mocking has a few inches on them.”“How are you still kicking? I figured he wouldn’t take too lightly to a potential usurper,” Soulless drawls slowly, attempting to make his way forward, only to fall right into the demon.Crowley shoves him ahead of him, snarling,”I’m no threat to him, and he knows it. What little loyalty I had was gone the second he opened those pretty little lips of his,” He goes on, licking at his lips,”He will kill me, eventually. He thought it would be fun to toy with me first - Wind me up, and watch me go. Or ‘pay for what I’ve done’ as he says.”Soulless doesn’t bother to feign concern and changes the subject,”Seeing as you haven’t made any decisive actions, I’m taking that you’re hoping I’ve got a plan,” He scoffs at the latter’s silence,”It’s comforting to see you the same in every damn universe. If Clarence is still up and kicking, I may have something.”“I’ve only heard whispers,” Crowley admits,”I heard at the water cooler that he’s being guarded by some particularly ill-breed hell hounds. Specially cooked up by the royal highness himself.”
Soulless groans and winces, stumbling. “Crowley, how long have I been here? I know time flies in hell, but...”

“In hell time, about two months.”

“...two...” Soulless seethes, his nostrils flaring,”So it’s been... roughly eight hours or so topside?”
Crowley grabs his shoulders and holds him steady, paying attention to the way the latter’s body tenses,”Correct.”“Angels don’t fare too well in hell,” Soulless points out irritated,”Cas is our only way out, at the moment, and we can’t afford to lose him. We need to find him, and soon. We still have no idea what that bastard’s game is, and I have no intention to stay long enough to find out.”

April 5, 2009

Samuel huffs softly as he fiddles with the bottle. Henry whines and wiggles in his arms, his balled fists gently pushing against his chest. He attempts to push the rubber nipple past the babe’s lips, but they’re stubbornly pressed into a firm line; almost as if he knows that this is not his true father feeding him.
“Come on,” Samuel pleads softly.Henry whimpers and the fists pushing against his chest start to glow dully. Samuel groans aloud and holds him as a safe distance from himself as the fists start flying. He thinks he’s safe until a tiny foot catches him in the shoulder, and he stumbles back a few inches, barely managing to catch himself.
There’s a sudden ruffle of feathers, and then someone is in front of him, screaming in his face,”Sam! Oh thank father, it’s C-Cas...!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Samuel exclaims in alarm, adjusting the baby to settle in the crease of elbow and addresses the angel,”Wrong Sam.”
“Oh,” The angel murmurs, his eyes wide and blinking dumbly at him,”Well, do you know where my Sam is? It’s a huge, massive, potentially world-ending, emergency.”Samuel winces as the baby gurgles and pinches his elbow. “Yeah, we get those a lot. Ow. Yeah, he’s, ow, sleeping,” He winces again as small fingers dig at the flesh at the base of his elbow,”I don’t think he likes me.”
“He doesn’t like anyone, save for his father,” The angel chuckles, setting his hands on his hips as he leans down and coos at the baby, dodging a foot,”Oh! Sorry for my rudeness, I’m Samandriel - But you can call me Alfie! Way too many Sam’s at the moment, don’t you think - Wait, emergency!”
“I, uh, know an Alfie, you know, different universe and all,” Sam watches as the angel anxiously darts down the hall, and he clears his throat and yells after him,”Door on the left - Ow! Gah, that one really hurt.”“Thank you,” Alfie shoots over his shoulder, before charging into the room with all the grace and speed of a shot gazelle,”Sam! Sam! Sam!”Sam’s bed jumps three feet into the air, and crashes back down, shaking the entire floor, as he bolts up with his yellow eyes flashing. “Wha...?” He murmurs sleepily, his hair sticking in three different directions,”Alfie? What’re you...”“It’s Castiel! I went to the house to see how he was doing alone with your counterpart, but they’re both gone - Gone, Sam!”“Gone,” Sam whispers, suddenly wide awake,”Well, did you look around? Was there any sign of a struggle or anything?”Alfie shakes his head, forlorn,”Some of the books in the sitting room were scattered and a few papers were on the floor, plus a mess of blood. But it didn’t look like a fight worthy of an angel went down, not at all!”Sam runs his fingers through his hair and stands up, summoning his clothes from off of the ground. “I’ve got a hunch, that I know who this is,” He states aloud, feeling the angel’s eyes burning into his neck,”I just hope I’m wrong.”
“W-who do you think would... could do this...?”

Sam closes his eyes, and gulps softly,”Alfie, tell Bobby and Dean to go ahead and set to finding the blood of the most holy man. Samuel should be able to help,” He pulls his shirt over his head, and with a flick of his wrist, the shoes already on his feet are tied,”Samuel needs to stay here and keep an eye of Samson and Henry.”

Alfie shakes his head and squeaks,”Wait - You can’t go alone!”
Sam doesn’t reply and makes his way out the door, ignoring the frantic steps behind him. “Alfie,” He states as he goes down the dirt path,”I need you to do me a favor.”“Anything.”
“I need you to guard the house and everyone inside. Should anything happen to me -“
Alfie gasps,”Sam-“Sam cuts him off with an irritated growl,”Listen! If anything should happen to me, I want your word that everyone I hold dear, my friends, my family - Just get them the hell out of dodge. Don’t give me a second thought.”Alfie makes a soft noise and shudders,”I-I can’t... Sam, you’re my friend.”“You can and you will. I’m asking you this as your friend,” Sam states firmly, his hazel hues cold and stern,”Please, please, do this for me. I can’t... I can’t be all alone. I just... I can’t. I would rather die a thousand times over, then be left all alone in this world.”
Alfie sniffs softly, but after a brief moment, he concedes and nods stiffly. “Okay. Okay,” He gulps and gives him a shaky smile,”I take you’ll be needing a lift?”
“Yeah, I still haven’t gotten the hang of teleporting,” Sam cringes, recalling the many bloody noses and curses garnered from his previous attempts.Alfie gently takes Sam’s hand in his, gripping it tightly. The angel doesn’t even warn him, the next second he’s standing in the middle of his personal library in his cabin, seemingly alone. Then he feels it, a great plane of energy behind him, and his hair stands on end as a soft gasp escapes him.“You feel it, don’t you,” Michael says, his back to Sam as he gazed out the window. He slowly turns to him, his mouth in a deep frown,”The residue of grace left in this place.”“...yes,” Sam says slowly,”I thought it was your’s.”
Michael stares at Sam for a moment, his vessel’s eyes narrowed, but not in anger, something else, an emotion he can’t pinpoint. “It’s not,” He states at last, ignoring the relived exhale the cambion let’s out as his eyes jerk away,”But it does feel familiar.”
“I’ve been having dreams, no, visions,” Sam admits, taking a few steady steps toward the archangel.
“I’m aware.”

“...A-aware...? Have you been watching me?”
Michael’s lips twitch at the accusing tone and he scoffs,”Don’t flatter yourself. I was merely keeping an eye on you, lest another world ending disaster come about.”Sam retorts,”The last one was on you, in case you forgot. I just cleaned up your mess -““Do not mistake my causality for friendliness, we simply don’t have time for our usual witty exchange of insults,” Michael snaps chillingly, and Sam jolts at his tone, taking a startled step back,”Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s sit and discuss just what you’ve been up to.”
Sam takes a seat on the edge of one of the shorter bookshelf’s, and much to his exasperation, Michael sits in Sam’s reading chair. “Do you want me to get us some tea or...” Sam trials off, feeling itchy under the archangel’s steel gaze,”...Some - Er, cookies?”
“No,” Michael remarks dryly,”We do not have time for hot drinks or sweets. Now, these portals that opened up when your child was born, all the individuals have been accounted for?”Sam suspires uneasily and answers,”Only three out of four, though I have a bad feeling I know who the fourth is. With my visions and the energy I feel here -““A version of you that said ‘yes’ to my brother,” Michael guesses, his interest piqued,”Though I have not seen or felt my brother since the early days, I would be able to sense his grace from even the furthest reaches of the universe. But the grace residue left here, it feels... off. Tainted, somehow.”“Tainted,” Sam repeats with a lour,”Tainted how?”
“I-I can’t describe it,” Michael admits closing his eyes, flinching slightly, before tossing his head to the side,”...It’s all wrong. That’s all I know to tell you.”
The cambion’s eyes blink yellow and he scans the room. “Besides that blood, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary,” He states, eyes sticking to the massive pairs of wings protruding from the archangel’s back,”...Oh...”Michael’s wings were nothing like Gabriel’s, these wings seemed more like onyx blades, that get longer and larger at the edges. They’re sharp as needles, the bristles of the feathers so close together, they create an almost perfect coal black plane. Sam takes a step forward, ignoring the latter’s bewildered look, as he runs a finger tip down one of the feathers. He flinches, at the sensation of a prick, and shoves his finger into his mouth, gently sucking at it.Michael rotates his shoulder blades, ruffling the wings, and the sound is surprisingly organic. Not the sound of metal on metal. “It’s rude to stare,” He says at last, looking more flustered than usual,”Let’s focus, shall we?”
Sam blinks away his yellow eyes, his normal hazel hues gently landing on the archangel,”Right. Um, that blood is likely from my counterpart, the soulless one,” He states marching around it, examining it closely, grimacing when he realizes its not only blood,”This isn’t just blood. There’s brain matter, chunks of mutilated flesh, fuck, this came from a head shot.”

“What use would an archangel have with human weaponry?”

Sam shrugs as he crouched down beside the evidence,”You said it yourself... something about this version of your brother is off. Hmm,” He hums in thought, continuing,”Another thing that concerns me is the body.”
“Yes,” Michael agrees,”Why would he take it? If your counterpart was to serve as a warning, he would have left it here or decimated it entirely.”Sam frowns and his eyes look downcast,”And what did he do with Castiel? I see no signs of him here, not even residual grace.”Michael fans his hand over the layout of the room, his eyes narrowing as he comes to the same conclusion,”Nothing. Many underestimate the might of an archangel; it’s all about creativity, and say what you will of my brother, but he certainly has that,” His expression is grim as he reveals,”For all we know he could have simply wiped him from the face of his planet.”“No,” Sam insists, his voice choking up,”No, I can’t lose another damn person in my life. Besides, I-I would know if he was gone... The very second that Gabriel’s life left him, I felt it, deep, deep inside of me. And Castiel, he’s the only thing that’s been keeping me sane these past few months, if something happened to him...”The archangel’s expression melted into something that resembled pity, if he could feel such a thing. “We know nothing conclusively as of this moment. For all we know, the seraph is alive and well,” He reminds him,”But we cannot assume one or the other, for now, we must just try and solve this mystery -“
“Wait,” Sam squeaks in surprise,”We?”

“Yes. My brother, not matter what universe, is my responsibility,” Michael tells him,”Perhaps, with the perspective of other universes, I’ll be offered more insight into just what I’m supposed to do.”
Sam slowly nods in comprehension. “Where do we go from here?” He questions,”I mean, the rest of the party can’t join us. They need to focus on finding the ingredients for the portal, er, since we’re on the subject...”Michael sniffs,”You need some of my grace, yes? Fine. You shall have it, after this other version of my brother is dealt with.”“Yeah. Okay. Thanks,” Sam mumbles, rubbing his neck,”Thanks I guess.”Michael narrows his eyes, annoyance littering his features, and demands,”What?”
“What the hell are you doing?”
The archangel looks flabbergasted as he inquires,”What do you mean?”“I think you know,” The cambion mutters,”I just... I thought there would be a lot more of an argument, an exchange of threats, maybe even just a few snide comments...” 
“Would you like me to...?”

“No. No!” Sam exclaims,”No, of course not!”

Michael nods stiffly and states,”Well, that settles it. Take my hand, we have much to do.”
Sam makes a sour face, before taking the offered hand. A loud ruffle of his great wings, both the angel and the cambion were gone. 
SPNSPN
 
Henry was wailing like a banshee, both Dean and Bobby were complaining because of said wailing. The eggs were burning, somehow the water for the oatmeal caught on fire, and now he’s about five seconds away from strangling his other-brother with a baby blanket. Then Dean swooped in and took over kitchen duties, shooing him to take care of the nephilim in the living room.
Samuel collapses on the couch, gently laying the infant across his chest, gently rubbing a hand down his back. Henry had quieted to a tiny whimper, the tears on his red face starting to dry. He sighs and uses the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away any residue the infant’s fit had left on his face.“Hey,” Samuel coos, moving him into his arms, to rock him back and forth,”Hey, Henry. You’re gonna be okay. And so is your dad. There’s not a single thing that should be on those tiny little shoulders, huh?”Henry whimpers softly in response, his big, watery doe eyes blinking at him. Samuel chuckles at that, pressing the tip of his finger against his button nose, watching as the infant’s face scrunches up in agitation. Henry sneezes loudly, scrunching his eyes tightly, making the furniture in the room shake violently.“Balls,” Bobby curses from the other room, following the sound of breaking glass.“Sorry, my bad,” Samuel yells back, wincing.Dean strolls into the room, holding two plastic bowls in his hands, plopping down on the couch. He grunts, setting the bowl in the latter’s lap,”The kid’s fit made what eggs were salvageable decorate the wall, so eat up.”“Lucky Charms,” Samuel points out, keeping Henry in the crook of one arm, and using the other to spoon small portions into his mouth,”I-I honestly, can’t remember the last time I’ve had these.”
“I remember you used to always hog them, wailing on me to dad everytime I’d get a single bowl. Then you started to just leave me the cruddy toy, like that’d make up for it. The one upside of you becoming a whiny-ass teenager, was that you started your health-freak phase and stuck to your greens.”
Samuel smiles at that, and says,”To be fair, you hogged a lot of other things.”Dean shrugs, shoving a heaping spoonful into his mouth, not acting when milk dribbles down his chin. Samuel groans in disgust, and elbows his other brother, chuckling when this causes him to spill the contents of his bowl all over his lap.Samuel sets his bowl of cereal on the coffee table, and repositions the infant in both arms, giving the latter a cocked eye brow. “Problem?”“Now you’re just using him as a shield,” Dean growls, slinging milk from his hands as he stands up, waddling to the kitchen to clean himself up.
Henry giggles, making Samuel crack a smile as he praises,”Look at you, cheering up already.”

The nephilim’s bright mood is ruined when the house begins to rumble again, and simultaneously, all the phones in the house began to ring. The infant tosses his head back and begins to wail, tears springing from his eyes as he flails his balled fists.

“Sam! Sammy,” Dean’s voice booms from the kitchen, his thundering footsteps following.
Samuel stands up promptly, clinging to the infant in his arms protectively. “That time it wasn’t him,” He states gravely as his other brother stops at the entryway into the living room,”Find out what the hell is going on - I’m getting Henry and Samson to one of the back rooms.”Samuel goes toward Samson, who’s say up on the couch, a bowl of broth propped on his lap. “What’s all the commotion,” He inquires, stifling a cough with his fist,”I-I can fight, if need be...”
Samuel laughs wryly and shakes his head, asking,”Can you walk?”
Samson nods and stands, setting his bowl on the side table. Samuel reaches out to help him, when Alfie flies right in front of him, nearly collapsing against him, before he uses his one free arm to hold him upright. “S-Samuel,” He gasps out, blood dribbling down his temple,”I-I’m sorry... t-there were too many...”Samuel shakes his head, not comprehending. “Too many what? Alfie,” He pulls the young angel against his side and nearly drags him down the hall, into the back room,”Here, lay down. Take him.”
Samson has followed them into the room, his hooded eyes watching them uneasily. “W-Whatever is out there,” He coughs softly,”...Y-You’re gonna n-need all the man power y-you can get.”
Tiredly, Alfie takes Henry into his arms, blinking blearily at Samuel. “P-please, y-you can’t...” He groans laying back onto the bed, and his eyes flash silver for a split second, before closing abruptly,”...t-too... many...”Samuel frowns deeply, and takes the infant from the angel’s limp arms, settling him on the other bed. Henry cries harder, louder, his chin trembling as he grips hard onto his father’s counterpart’s fingers. Samson sits down on the bed next to Alfie, gently gripping the side of his face.“Alfie, get out of here. Use what little bit of grace you have left and take them with you,” Samuel commands, ignoring Samson’s objection that dies out with a ruffle of feathers.Dean grabs him by his wrist and yanks him out of the room, practically dragging him down the hallway. “Come on,” Dean hisses, stumbling when the house shakes again,”The warding is already on its last legs.”Wrenching his arm away from him, Samuel demands,”What’s out there?”
“Demons. More than I’ve ever seen. Luckily halo-head knocked out at least seventy percent of them,” Dean says coldly,”Still a lot. Come on, we need to get ready for one hell of a fight. I hope you’re a better shot in your universe.”

Samuel shoots him a scoff,”I wipe your ass at the gun range.”

“Don’t exaggerate, Sammy,” Dean shoots back,”I’m sure you caught my counterpart on some off-days. Hungover or in need of a power nap.”
“That’d make everyday of his life an off-day,” Samuel quips.Bobby storms into the room, tossing them both a shotgun, his mouth twisted into a sour expression,”Am I interrupting something, ladies? If y’all are too busy, I’ll come back later when the bastards knocking outside, have already kicked down the damn door!”Samuel cocks his shotgun, aiming it toward the window, where he can see several meat suits wandering the premises. “Where are these guys coming from?”“I don’t know! Just try and maim ‘em, ya idjit!” Bobby yells.“Maim? Bobby, they’re here looking for blood -“ Dean argues, his lips a thin line.“Well, what do you suggest? That we just tear through their meat suits, not giving a flying shit how many innocent folks we send to an early grave?”Samuel sides with Bobby, hissing,”Bobby is right. We’ll find another way,” He jumps when the door begins to thud loudly,”Have you tried calling for help?”“All the other hunters in the area are blowing my phone off the hook. Everyone else we know is either preoccupied, not picking up or god-knows-where,” Bobby informs him, grimacing when he sees the crowd outside thickening,”Balls! I thought Crowley was in our corner?”Dean shrugs, snarling,”I never trusted the bastard. Good thing is, this stunt will probably give my brother enough incentive to gank him. Now would be a nice time for him to make an appearance.”“Focus up, boy. Wishing real hard don’t make it reality,” Bobby exclaims,”Samuel, what you thinking? Samuel?”Samuel is staring out the window intently, his jaw gritted tightly. “We can’t exorcise them,” He points to one of the meat suit’s arms, indicating the circle with a line drawn through it branded on his arm,”Seems they learned a trick or two from Meg.”“Damn, binding links! They’ve locked themselves in,” Bobby snarls, slapping his palm against the door in frustration.Dean suggests,”Last time, when Meg danced that waltz in Sammy, we just burned the link. The bitch smoked out - Like that.”Samuel responds sullenly with a frown,”Only because an entire exorcism had already been performed, before the link was severed. So we’d have to exorcise the demons first, then severe all of the links individually, or vice versa,” He paces the room, ignoring the thuds and bangs and growls outside,”Of course, a mass exorcism is not common, but not impossible -“
“Wait, wait, Sammy,” Dean interrupts, his emerald green hues wide as his lips swoop into a smile,”Remember exercising Lilith's lackeys in a police station with the PA system?”
“Okay, first off, it’s exorcising, not exercising,” Samuel corrects, annoyed,”Second, I do, but I don’t know how we’ll be able to replicate that situation here, Dean -“An entire human body crashed through the window, spraying shattered glass and chunks of wood across the room. The body twitches, it’s eyes blinking open to reveal inky black hues, and its lips twist into a shit-eating grin.“Howdy,” Cecily greets, cracking her neck loudly as she shakes broken glass off of her body. Demon after demon crawls in after her, like flies swarming to rotting meat, until they’re all forming a semicircle around the trio.“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus -“ Samuel starts his teeth grit tightly, when one of the demons jerks their hands and he’s tossed across the room.Cecily hisses frigidly,”I hear one damn word of an exorcism, and I’ll stick my red hot curling iron up one of your perky buttholes.”
“Kinky, but not my kind,” Dean replies briskly, turning to Samuel,”Sammy, you good?”
“Y-yeah, I’m fine - Oh,” Samuel sits up, lays against the book case, blood trickling down his chin. His hands are wrapped over a quickly growing spot of red on his abdomen. As he pulls away his shaking hands, a jagged piece of glass, nearly five inches thick is revealed to be lodged in his upper abdomen,”Oh - I...”Dean feels his heart beating out of his chest, as he snarls,”Sammy! Fuck it,” He cocks his shotgun, and blasts the demon’s closest to him legs. He ignores the wail of pain, and aims again,”If you black-eyed sons of bitches touch him, I’ll make hell look like a damn dance party.”
“Cute. Really cute,” Cecily purrs, pouting her lips mockingly. She slowly crouches beside the injured hunter,”My unbeating heart is touched.”
Dean’s eyes widen and he realizes aloud,”Cecily,” He raises his eyebrows at her,”You’re supposed to be on our team! Not batting for the other side.”“Sorry boys, new king, new orders,” Cecily sighs, curling her hair with her finger,”And he, doesn’t seem to want a working relationship with you guys.”“New king,” Bobby utters,”...Balls.”Cecily winks at Bobby and states,”Yep. Sam, at least one of them, is the king that I’ve always wanted him to be. That all of us, every demon in the pit, has wanted him to be. So this can go one of two ways,” She holds up one finger,”Door number one - You can all drop your weapons and come with me for a little faculty meeting. Door number two, well...”She grabs the glass and twists it as blood spurts, a pained cry of surprise escaping the injured man. She goes on,”It’d be a damn shame to make a piece of ass this fine bite the dust. But, orders are orders.”Dean’s fists are white knuckled against the shotgun in his grip, the small group of demons the only thing keeping him from ripping her innards out. She was going to kill his brother - something in him twists painfully - one of his brothers. “Don’t you fucking touch him!”Dean growls at the two demons closest to him, looking seconds away from doing seething very stupid and suicidal. While Bobby’s own anger is pliable, it seems Samuel is the only one in the room looking composed despite the fact that a hefty sized shard of glass is lodged in him.“D-Dah... D-Dean,” Samuel cries out, struggling past the claret foaming at his lips,”I-I’m not y-your, S-Sam... Jah-J-Just...”Dean doesn’t say a word, he just drops his weapon and slowly raises his hands over his head. “It doesn’t matter what time or place you’re from,” He utters, smirking,”You’re still my pain-in-the-ass little brother, and I’ve gotta protect you. Okay?”Bobby copies the man beside him, conferring,”You’re still one of my boys.”Samuel just mutely shakes his head, stubbornly pursing his lips when another cough rises in his throat. Cecily just rolls her eyes and says,”Gah, this is enough sweetness to make me diabetic,” She waves her hand towards the demons at her back,”I just saved you guys some perfectly good meatsuits. Kill them both and bring him.”
“You cunt -“ Dean roars in anger, diving for his discarded shotgun. Before he can twist his fingers around it, or even brush them, he’s thrown against the wall by a bear of a man.
Bobby yells in alarm, scrambling after him as he goes to his knees, only to be yanked back, a demon grabbing an arm each. Dean groans aloud, gulping thickly as he boosts himself up until he’s sprawled out against the wall, panting, trying to get his senses back in gear. Dean turns his head, blinking blearily, slowly opening his eyes just in time to see Samuel bite down on the neck of Cecily, blood pooling down his mouth and staining his neck scarlet.Samuel’s throat bobs as heavily gulps, Cecily screaming and thrashing in his grip to no avail. He digs his fingers into her shoulder blades and spins her around, slamming her against the wall. Dean is frozen, his limbs seemingly unresponsive as he attempts to move. So all he can do is watch in enrapt horror as he sucks her dry.Samuel throws her body to the ground, and Dean blinks again, his breathing erratic. His other brother nonchalantly seizes the glass that’s lodged into his abdomen, and promptly yanks it out without so much as a grunt of pain. He slowly lifts one hand, spreading his fingers apart as he shuts his eyes in concentration.Smoke blasts from all of the demon’s mouths simultaneously, throwing their heads back and screaming in pain. The pillars of smoke slam through the wooden floor boards, burning through it, and charring the carpet over it. A heavy asric smell wafts throughout the house.Samuel stumbles back, falling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. “I-I’m s-sah... s-sorry...” He whispers distantly, his gaze growing distant as blood pulses past his trembling hands,”T-Tell h-him I-I h-ha-had t-to. P-p-please...”“Fuck,” Dean curses, running past the shedded meatusits, falling to his knees to practically cradle the much larger man in his arms,”W-We’ve gotta do somethin’, Bobby. H-He’s bleeding out. God, stay with me, Sammy! Sammy!”Bobby shakes his head, yanking a blanket off of the couch and shoving it into Dean’s hands. “He should know better than to yank out the only thing keeping him from spilling his guts out,” He points out, then his eyes widen as a corner of his mouth twitches,”N-no... He wouldn’t.”
“Shit, h-he’s trying to kill himself,” Dean realizes, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he set his mouth in a hard line,”You idiot. You fucking idiot!”
Samuel is unresponsive, his eyelids drooping and his jaw slack as a steady stream of blood escapes his lips. Dean was poker faced as he pulled his phone from his pocket and pulled up the first name on his emergency contacts: Sam Winchester. The phone rings three times, before going straight to voicemail.“We need to get him to a hospital,” Bobby states, standing up and going to his home phone. He dials quickly and waits for the operator to pick up.“What about all these damn bodies?” Dean yells, screwing up his face, as his hands grope at his other brother’s face and neck.“Best get to hauling ass, you idijit.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

April 5, 2009
 
Sam sighs as he grabs the plastic take-out bag, feeling the two styrofoam boxes shifting as he lifts it off the counter. The waitress gives him a forced smile, sending him on his way with well wishes for his day, that she probably couldn’t give two shits about. Sam can see Michael sitting in the back of the restaurant, the archangel’s tailored suit making him stick out like a sore thumb. Michael tips his newsboy hat towards the counter, and turns on his heel, his hands folded behind his back, as he waits for Sam to open the door for him.

“I don’t see how all of this is necessary,” Sam states, handing Michael his boxed food, not missing the light of excitement that burns in his eyes.
Michael doesn’t deem a reply necessary, and continues leading him down the busy sidewalk. Sam sighs in annoyance, grabbing his bottled water from the take-out bag, twisting off the cap and taking a heady gulp. Michael then gently extends his arm in front of him, stopping him where he stood, nearly causing him to spit out his water in surprise.
“We’re here,” Michael says, trailing off the sidewalk onto the lush grass that lead into a small playground. He stops in front of a park bench that lays underneath a great oak tree, dusting off the wooden panels and taking a seat,”Come, sit.”
Sam obeys and plops down beside him, settling the styrofoam box on his lap, and opening it. Michael copies his actions and quickly swoops down on the fluffy stack on pancakes, grabbing one with his fingers and taking a monstrous bite from it.
“I’ve grown quite fond of these during my time on earth,” Michael exclaims, his cheeks bulging as he shoves another pancake into his mouth, grabbing the small plastic container of syrup and pouring it into his mouth, "It's like mana from heaven. No, doubt you humans imitated it, when father gifted it to you during your times in the desert.”

Sam bites at his lip to keep from laughing, turning his attention to his salad. He grabs the two packets of ranch and dumps them over the greens, and various assortment of colorful vegetables, closing the lid of the styrofoam box and shaking it vigorously. He opens it and stabs his plastic fork into a generous helping of greens with a slice of tomato and torn piece of chicken.

Michael leans his face over the box, frowning deeply as he sniffs at the salad. “Why would you punish yourself with this putrid, vile dish,” He scoffs in disgust and turns back to his pancakes,”Tell me, just how do your tastebuds benefit from such a-a... an affront to the culinary arts?"
The cambion shrugs nonchalantly, his lips twitching as he tries his best not to crack a smile. “I just like it,” He answers simply,”Not to mention it’s good for your mind and body -“
“I am an archangel of heaven, things of mind and body do not concern me,” The archangel counters sourly.
Sam had refused to see the similarities between himself and Lucifer, fearing somehow the whole argument of them being “made for each other” would start to make sense. And he honestly hadn’t even given a thought about Dean and Michael. Now that he was siting here, interacting with and speaking to the archangel, he was able to draw some comparisons.
“What exactly are we here for?” Sam inquires, glancing around the playground.

“Heaven is the watch tower for earth and below. I have no doubt that its eyes are already on us at this moment,” Michael informs him,”If any place holds the answers that we seek, it is my home.”

Sam replies,”Well, that may be, but I am about as far as angel as you can get. How am I supposed to get in?"
Michael points a sticky finger to a small girl being pushed on the swing by her mother. “Those two, they are angels, stationed here to guard the entrance to heaven,” He states, sticking the same finger into his mouth to suckle off the syrup,”They will likely not let us in, so we’ll be forced to dispose of them.”“Whoa, whoa, not that I’m just hunky dory with angels, but shouldn’t we at least give them a chance, before we blast through them,” Sam exclaims in dismay.“Very well,” Michael concedes coldly as he stands up and with a snap of his fingers, their food is gone, not a crumb left behind.Sam follows his lead, watching warily as the two angels glance up at him, their eyes widening at the sight of him. “Samuel,” The small girl squeaks, jumping off of the swing,”We’ve been expecting you. Come!”"Huh?” Sam grunts as the girl offers her little hand. He glanced towards the archangel for help, who blinks at him in surprise and slowly nods.The woman gently places a hand on the archangel’s chest, proclaiming,”You will stay here until they are done, brother,” She gives him a pitying smile,”Orders.”
“Very well,” Michael agrees,”Sam.”

“Mike,” Sam responds with a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

“Heaven is a dangerous place to those without wings. Use caution, otherwise you may find yourself... stranded,” Michael warns, his words the closest thing to concern he’d likely be getting in the near future.

Sam gives a quick up and down motion of his head, sniffing as he turns his back to the archangel. “I didn’t think I’d ever be lead into heaven by an angel,” He tells the girl as she pulls him by hand towards a sandbox,”Did you ever think you’d be letting a cambion past your gates?"
"I am merely the one who opens the door,” The girl states simply, her shoulders shrugging as she bends down and picks up a stick,”It’s none of my business who goes in and out.”"Hmm,” The cambion grunts in reply,”What should I expect?”The angel begins to push the stick across the sand, tracing various intricate symbols. “Entering will instantly kill you, your body will be reduced to nothing, but you will not feel a thing,” She says bluntly,”But your soul will ascend to heaven. I wouldn’t worry too much about death, not with an archangel as your friend.”
“He’s not my friend.”

The angel doesn’t reply, gently pulling away her hand as she looks up at him with the eyes of child. “Step into the box and I will speak the words,” She tells him,”I will be here to open the door when you are brought back.”

Sam nods and edges one foot into the sandbox, before stepping all of the way in. He closes his eyes as a great rush of wind blasts against his body, the sound roaring his ears as he grits his teeth. Then, a massive white light burns through his vision, forcing his eyes open with a startled gasp.

The cambion glances around, frowning slightly at his foreign surroundings. He’s on the middle of a great expanse in the middle of the woods, snow falling down and joining the blanket underneath him. He let’s out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, watching as his breath mists in the air. He yelps when a dull ‘thunk’ echoes through the air, and pain shoots through the back of his neck

“Oooh!” A voice exclaims triumphantly,”That was a damn good hit. I think you just might get a bruise from that one, little brother!”

A young man wearing a great, big sagging leather jacket and raggedy knit scarf and hat comes running at him, his green eyes wide and full of warmth. He crouched beside him cooing playfully,”C’mon -“

Sam laughs in delight as he scoops up an armful of snow, and slams it into Dean’s face. “Jerk!”

“Bitch!” Dean rubs the sleeve of his jacket over his face, his cheeks burning bright red as he grins wickedly at him. He abruptly lunges at him, slamming him into the snow, and pressing him there, his fingers running up and down his sides expertly.

Sam had forgotten just how ticklish he was when he was a little kid as he howled with laughter. He smacked his mittened hands over his brother’s chest, his face falling against his neck as cold tears run down his cheeks from how hard he’s laughing. But Dean is ruthless, getting his arm pits and using his legs to keep him firmly planted into the snow.

“Say ‘uncle’,” Dean proclaims.

“Never,” Sam screeches defiantly, his breathes coming out heavily.

Dean raises a brow at that, before shrugging and wiggling his fingers at him menacingly. “You sure? Think I won’t tickle you until there’s yellow snow,” He chuckles deeply, plunging his fingers against his stomach,”Think again, little brother.”

“Alright! Alright,” Sam groans through his hysterical giggles,”Uncle.”

“What was that? I think I’ve got snow in my ears!”

“Uncle! Uncle! Uncle!”

Dean laughs grabbing a palm full of snow and swatting it over his head, before wrapping his arms around him and pulling him against his chest. “Come on, let’s go inside,” He says softly,”I found some old packets of hot cocoa in the back. And the Charlie Brown special is gonna be on soon.”

“Okay, De,” Sam agrees with a small smile, slipping his hand into his older brother’s.

“Sam!” Someone calls in the distance.

Sam feels wrong, different. He’s trapped in the shell of his former body, from years long past. He looks down at his child-sized snow boots, just then noticing he’d shrunk down at least three feet, maybe more. His older brother is like a giant as he easily scoops him up, carrying him towards the cabin in the distance, smoke plumbing from it’s chimney.

“De,” Sam whimpers running his mittened hand over the side of his face, all of his worries fading as he recalls the mug of hot chocolate he was promised,”I want mini marshmallows. C-can I have some?”

“Yeah. Sure,” Dean chuckles,”We can pick them out of the Lucky Charms. C’mon - Heart, stars, horseshoes -“

Sam shrieks in delight, chiming in,”Clovers and blue moons!”

“Hour glasses, rainbows, and tasty red balloons,” They sing in unison.

“Sam!”

Sam blinks rapidly, a tiny gasp escaping his lips, his hands tightly gripping at Dean’s jacket. A hand bursts from the snow, it’s fingers clutching at air as the voice yells,”Take my hand! C’mon little buddy! Don’t be afraid, it’s Uncle Ash!”

Sam reaches his mittened hand out, exclaiming in surprise when the hand bursts from the snow, takes it and yanks him down. Bells rings in his ears and darkness pushes over his vision, before a smell like salty peanuts and beer wafts over his nostrils. He blinks and slowly opens his eyes, a leaky old ceiling coming into view.

“Long time, no see, Winchester.”

Sam sits up, staring at his now full sized hands , twisting and turning them in examination. Sam turns in the direction of the voice, gaping at him as he yells,”Ash!”

———

“Behold!” Lucifer screams to the audience of demons gathered in the throne room, tossing his arms the sides as he slowly spins around the room,”Sam Winchester - One of many. Famed as one of the greatest hunters in the entire world!”

Soulless stares at the archangel with cool regard, gritting his teeth when he’s abruptly mere inches from his face, so close their noses nearly touch. Lucifer seizes his jaw in his grip, twisting his face from side to side, before gently pulling his hand away. The smallest of smiles pulls against the archangel’s lips, not going to his eyes. Behind, Crowley is watching cautiously.

“Let us all see if that title is well deserved!” Lucifer proclaims as the audience roars, their inky black eyes bursting forth.
One demon, a stocky, short demon with a great, big jiggling belly pushes his way forward. The other demons begin whispering amongst themselves, all of them backing up a few feet cautiously. The demon’s meat suit is mutilated, massive hunks of meat are missing from its arms, and he can see the wiggling masses of maggots eating at the rotting flesh. One of his eyes is merely a bloody socket with several tendrils of flesh jiggling like jelly as what looks to be a small rodent wiggles out. It screeches, its beady, black eyes wide as it licks at its lips. Without the arcangel's eyes on him, the demon is free to kick a discarded sword the soulless individual's way.
“Name yourself,” Lucifer states coldly, flopping down on the throne sideways as he crosses his long legs over the arm of it.

“Anzu, your grace,” The demon bellows, browinish spittle with little bits of tobacco flying from his mouth,”But those in the pits call me The Butcher.”

Lucifer raises a brow and mockingly croons,”The Butcher? Oh, fascinating, so original -“

Anzu’s head slides off of his body with a spray of blood, the body going to its knees before flopping to the side. It twitches and jerks, then stills. Soulless comes off to the side of it, kicking the head towards the shocked and silent audience, who all part to let it fly past them and smack wetly against the wall. Crowley smirks, tilting his head down to hide it. A dark smear of claret marks the wall. Soulless drops the discarded sword down by his side, absently licking at the blood that had splattered against his lips.

“Dollar-bin Uncle Fester,” Soulless scoffs, twirling the sword in his grip expertly,”I hope you’ve got better than that.”

Lucifer brings his hands together, clapping slowly and methodically. “You deserve better,” He sits up straight in his throne, leaning forward with a deep creak,”Far, far better than some bottom-feeder of a demon. No, no, no, we want a decent fight.”

Whispers break out in the crowd as footsteps resound from the very back, and the masses part for one demon. This one is tall and lanky with salt and pepper hair, with three scars raking over the whole of his face. His eyes flicker yellow as he slowly inclines his head at the sight of him, a smirk pushing past his frown. Crowley pales and his lips part in surprise as recognition sets in.
"Bloody hell, Crowley groans, rolling his eyes.
“Asmodeus,” Lucifer greets, opening his arms for an embrace. The demon obliges, laying his head across his father’s breast as his arms pull around him,”On my earth, you’ve gone into hiding, afraid of the very darkness that made you. But, no, here, you are as you should be - A good general, ready for his superior.”

Asmodeus nods, gently pulling from the embrace, and he states with a thick country accent,”I heard your summons, and could hardly believe it. Your ascension to the throne was halted by the very man you are wearing,” He informs him,”But, no matter. You are here, now. And, oh, how I’ve missed you, all of us have.”

“Then why are they not here? Your brothers and sisters,” Lucifer inquires with a nearly imperceptible twist in his cool, unrippling façade.
Asmodeus gulps, clears his throat, and tells him,”They stopped believing in you, in your plan, long ago. But I did not. I have been waiting for you.”
“Mmm. A family reunion will have to wait. I’ll be forced to get fetch them in person,” Lucifer realizes aloud, running his fingers over his plush lips in thought,”No matter. It was you I needed. You are to open the gate I forced you to close long ago, hiding away those things so dark and base that not even my own father would allow them to see the light."
The shock is clearly seen on the prince’s face as he utters,”Your grace, surely you don’t -“
“Oh, but I do,” Lucifer purrs, flicking his tongue as does so,”With my power and blessing, you’ll open the door and turn light into dark. But you won’t let them out, no, you’ll be throwing something back in. They’ve been down there an awfully long time...”

“Bastard,” Soulless seethes.

“...they’ll appreciate the company,” Lucifer finishes, taming his messy hair with a few pulls of his fingers. Then he goes to stand by the demon, pressing two fully glowing fingers to his temple as bright white light emitted from his eyes,”Now, do it.”

Asmodeus chokes out as the fingers yank away, and he inhales deeply. Extending one of his hands over the chosen spot of ground, his yellow eyes sparking to life as he incants,”Haec enim aperire ostium commune animantibus tenebris,” The ground begins to rumble lowly, flecks of dirt rising from the ground,”Fiat lux in tenebris luceat propter tuus disrumpatur. Veni de occultis, ne quis in Shedim.”

Lucifer stares at him. There was no softness in that gaze. It was a look that conveyed a bubbling hatred. Disgust perhaps. He was looking at him as if he was just another one of the many faceless swarms of bodies begging him for pity. But he wasn't. Instead of lowering his head he lifted it, a stony glare carved into his dark eyes. Fury blurred his sight but he tightened his jaw and glared at him, even as the earth opened up beneath him and swallowed him whole.

Lucifer coolly shifted his cold stare over to Asmodeus, before flicking his wrist and watching him spill into the gaping mouth that had opened up. Asmodeus didn’t scream as he fell, but his intense silence he somehow screamed with his whole body. The eyes wide with horror, the mouth rigid and open, his marred face gaunt and immobile.

The light faded away, the hum faded and his own surprised cry disappeared from his throat, replaced by the skittering of claws nearby and the distant howls of strange creatures. Soulless stood up and looked around. He imagined he must be in a small space, but he couldn't see anything. As his eyes adjusted, dilating as far as possible, he could make out a faint glow from the ground, like luminescent webs.

“I just can’t seem to catch a fucking break,” Soulless mutters, and he shifts his hand, surprised to still feel the sword in his grip.

A moment later, he heard the scrape of claws on rock, hungry growls, and, holy shit, something or a lot of somethings were coming closer. Suddenly someone pushed past him, their hands scrambling against him as they ran away. The figure started running faster and he did his best to keep up, occasionally slamming against walls as he followed the sound of the demon’s feet. When they reached the corner, he realized it too late and ran head first into the rock wall, and he’s surprised there aren’t canaries circling his vision.

Already Asmodeus' footsteps were hard to hear over the scraping claws and desperate howling. It sounded like him sharpening his knives, the high pitched screech of metal on metal. The first wave hit, their snarls deafening. For all the dark, Soulless could see the creatures enough to recognize their outlines. Slender, and nearly his height on two legs with no visible facial features, except a gaping hole that makes up its mouth, and all of them glinting in the faint light. He wondered how they could be shining until he realized those were just their fangs and claws.

Soulless realized that there was no expert way to take the damn things out as a smaller one sunk its burning needles of teeth into his elbow. Forsaking all of his training, he began slashing at them wildly, screaming in pain he didn’t know he could feel as spurring claws and teeth tore into him from all directions. Then someone was back to back with him, and the creatures were being blasted back, as they released high pitched squeals, with bursts of bright light.

“Howdy,” Asmodeus greets casually, his yellow eyes glinting in the dark.

“Any chance you can light this place up?”

Asmodeus chuckles deeply,”Ain’t glow sticks, son.”

After the first hit, he realized his sword wasn’t going to be enough. There wasn't enough wiggle room to build up enough force in his swing to slice through. He hacked through one’s back legs, sent another spinning into the rock wall, but they were too resilient to be deterred by severed limbs. One of them skittered across the ceiling and leaped at his face, jaws clamping and unclamping frantically in anticipation. He stumbled back, too slow to do anything.

Soulless shielded his eyes as a massive sheet of light cuts through the dark, slicing several of the smaller creatures in half. Blood pooled around his feet. He ducked his head as the rain became heavy, too heavy. The screeches became louder as they went on, the demon leading him through the dark, and the light became even fainter as blood washed over the luminescent veins along the floor. All they had now was the light from the demon’s eyes.

Asmodeus utters,”I don’t see no more. I think the rest may have cleared off.”

The demon had spoken to soon, for the wall he was leaning on for a breath began to rumble. “Fuck,” He snarls under his breath, attempting to get a grip on his blood slicked sword. Rubbing his fingers through the warm liquid, an idea, an admittedly stupid one, came to mind,”I wonder how long it’ll be before you realize I’m a burden, and throw me like a bone.”

Soulless can practically hear Asmodeus’ smirk in the dark as he replies,”Well, you’ll just have to take that chance, my soulless friend. I’m you’re only chance of getting back to the light.”

“You are,” Soulless admits, slowly turning the sword in his grip,”Just...”

He slashed the sword across the outline of the demon’s neck, his lips curling when he hears a faint gurgle. He drops to his knees beside him, wrapping his arms around his chest as he leans his face against his neck. He can smell it, the hot, wet sulfuric liquid pulsing out of the gaping tear in the flesh.

“...not in the way you’d think,” He murmurs as he lowers his lips over the fountain of claret.

———
 
“The ro-road house,” Sam sputters aloud, glancing around the familiar space while a smile plays on his lips.

Sam stares blankly at Ash, who hands him a beer, and states,”Weird, huh,” He laughs as he slurps loudly from his own beer, burping,”You’re probably wonderin’ how me, the world’s biggest sleezebag, ended up in a joint like this? Let’s just say snake wrangling for a church pays in more ways than one.”
The cambion sets aside his beer and goes on,”And this is... your heaven? Wha.. what does that mean?”
“Yep. My own holodeck,” Ash proclaims, crushing his beer can against his temple and throwing it over his shoulder,”All the good folks who’ve earned their wings get one.”

“So everyone gets their own heaven,” Sam states aloud, disbelief in his voice,”How does that work?”

“See, you gotta stop thinking of heaven as one place. It’s more like a butt-load of places all crammed together. Like Disneyland...” Ash cocks his head, going on and quipping,”...except without all the anti-Semitism.”

Sam nods in comprehension and states,”So, back there... was it real? I-I mean, I felt that young again. That carefree,” He sighs, running a hand over his face,”It was like no time had passed, like I was in that moment.”

“You were fully emersed,” Ash tells him,”It’s rare, but it happens. When people have had nothin’ but hell on earth, no offense, they tend to succumb easier to heaven’s charms.”

Sam let’s out a wry chuckle,”No, you’re right.”

“Anyway, just what are you doing here? You didn’t die again, did you,” Ash inquires with one brow raised,”This is the third, no, uh, fourth time I’ve had to explain the schematics of this place to you.”

“T-the fourth... I-I don’t remember...” The cambion mutters with a toss of his head.

Ash takes a seat on the stool next to him, explaining,”This ain’t your first trip here, Sam,” He giggles and reaches over the bar, grabbing another beer,”You and your brother die more than anyone I’ve ever met. Anyway, you wanna tell me why you’re here in cloud nine?”

“Long story short — I’m working with an archangel to try and find another angel, who may lead us... to yet another angel,” Sam explains sheepishly, both his brows raised as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Ash frowns deeply, opens his mouth and closes it abruptly, before saying,”You’re honestly the last person I’d expect to be ganging up with angels. With your, er, uh...” He inclines his head from side to side,”You know...”

Sam’s blinks and a yellow filter glides over his normal hazel hues. “This?”

Ash meets his eyes and flails out of his chair, yelling,”Jesus Christ on a tortilla,” Slowly standing back up, he chokes out,”...You, uh, you didn’t go dark side, did you, Sam?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Sam answers honestly, his yellow eyes flickering around the room,”I didn’t think I’d be able to use my powers here. It should be a lot easier to navigate now.”

“Yeah, last guy I’d expect to work with angels,” Ash snorts into his beer.

Sam gets to his feet and he replies,”It was an angel that did this to me,” He glances over his shoulder and goes on,”See you, Ash. And if it means anything, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“For getting you killed. I-If... If it wasn’t for me...”

“Hey, I’m cool with it,” Ash scoffs with a wave of his hand,”I’m living it up more while I’m dead, than I ever did when I was alive. If you ask me... life is a highly overrated phenomenon. But if you do feel so bad about it, you could always show me just a few new tricks?”

Sam smirks and flicks his hand in the direction of the shelves of liquor, causing them to become suspended in air, levitating over Ash’s head. Ash grins from ear to ear, snatching a bottle of whiskey from the air and titling it in his direction in appreciation. Then he firmly plants both of his feet into the ground, clenching his eyes shut and breathing in deeply, trying to recall every lesson in teleporting he’d ever received.

There was a whoosh of air, ringing in his ears, and pain splintered up his ankles as he landed. He grunts, stumbling forward and going to his knees. He jolts when he feels the warmth of a hand slide up his neck, and settle on the area just below his ear, the fingers gently tangling within his hair.

Sam looks up, his lips parted in surprise as his hazel hues meet a pair of champagne colored eyes. “...G...” Is all he can manage as his mouth dries up,”...Ga...Gab...”

Gabriel is gazing into his eyes with a smug look on his face, still gripping either side of his face tightly. “—I’m afraid you have me confused with somebody who gives a shit. But it’s okay,” He purrs,”-you don’t need to be embarrassed, turns out it happens all the time.”

Sam wants to scream, to cry, but he manages to bottle up all of the feelings attempting to surface. “No, no,” He hisses to himself, reminding himself of the circumstances,”This... this isn’t him. Not him. He’s gone. This - This is just a memory, and it always will be.”

“Messing with you Winchesters is the most fun I’ve had,” Gabriel sweeps the human’s legs out from under him. ”-without being forced to cuddle afterward.”

Sam landed hard on his back, the breath knocked out of him as the trickster landed on top and straddled his hips. Without leverage, he had no way of pushing off. Sam was about to kick this imposter in his twig and berries, but he froze as the latter grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back. The cambion gasped, his hand pausing in midair. The tongue on his throat stole his breath more completely than the fall had. His body pressed against his, holding him down securely. For a moment he met his mocking eyes, and then his head was being forced even further back until all he could see was the ceiling.

“Relax, Sammy," Gabriel whispered with a grin. "I promise I won't hurt you. Unless you ask, of course.”

Sam’s eyes flash yellow and his swipes his arm across the air, watching as Gabriel’s torso explodes into a spray of torn flash and a wave of scarlet. Gabriel doesn’t seem to notice, however, for he continues reenacting the memory as if he hadn’t just had a good chunk of himself removed. The cambion screams in disgust and hatred as he wildly attacks the imposter with every inch of his power, marring its body to unrecognizable lengths.

“You’re not him!” Sam screeches, feeling the heat of tears blurring his vision.

The scene freezes then dissipates entirely. Sam hadn’t even blinked, and the scenery around him had changed substantially. From a shit-hole of a motel room to a petite garden with a man on his hands and knees, digging into the earth. Burlap bags of seeds are slouched around the man’s feet, and he reaches over, grabs a single one and gently ticks into the earth. A soft, pale glow eminates from it, then a stem bursts forth, growing into a bud, that splits into a great array of violet petals with white streaks.

“I remember... in the beginning, when the first flower was made,” The man remarks, taking another seed from the sack,”My father saw how my dozens of eyes lit up with joy as I watched him breath life into them. He gave me a great task, and told me that I was to watch over the greatest gardens of all, once all men had left.”

Sam kneels down beside him, watching as he gently pats the soil over the seeds. “Who are you,” He inquires at last, absently picking at the dirt beneath his nails,”D-did... did you bring me here...?”

“We have talked many times, though I am afraid my brothers and sisters are strict in their ways. No man can know the secrets of our home,” The angel gives him a warm smile, slipping his hand over his, gently dropping a seed into his palm,”Though you are no man, so I’ll make an exception just this once. I am Joshua.”

“Sam... Though I suppose you already knew that,” Sam utters with a tiny, awkward smile, mentally kicking himself.

Joshua chuckles deeply, patting Sam on the back,”There is nothing wrong with a proper introduction, my friend,” He groans aloud as he goes to his feet, dusting the soil off of his hands,”Come! I am sure you have many questions, so I’ll surely have many answers to provide.”

Joshua waves his hand and massive, thick branch pushes out from the ground curling up under the feet and plunges them towards the sky. Sam cries out in surprise, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms around the large trunk, pressing his face to the bark. Wind whips around him, blasting his hair back and blaring in his ears. Then they abruptly stop, and he spits out a mouthful of leaves, his jaw dropping in disbelief.

“I suppose I could have warned you,” Joshua admits, though he doesn’t seem too apologetic.

“You could have,” Sam replies grumpily, spitting out one last leaf, before glancing up,”...Oh...”

The corner’s of Joshua’s mouth turned up as he motioned to the great sky all around himself. “Beautiful isn’t it? Others have grown jaded towards it... what our father made,” He gives a slight shake of his head,”I don’t think his work will ever cease to amaze me.”
The sky is mostly cloud, deep steel blue-greys that mirror the hues of a certain angel. Everything is a muted shade, like a matt photograph in a dimly lit room. The sun poured out it's brilliant hot oranges and reds that shine like the first berries on winter holly. He imagines for a moment that the beams are strong enough to support the heavens above, or below he supposes.“Ask me what you will,” Joshua says at last, not turning to him.Sam takes a seat on the bulky trunk, his legs dangling off the edge. ”In my dreams, I see an angel with red eyes - That same angel is here, now,” The color drained from his face as he utters the name,”Lucifer.”“Indeed,” Joshua states, his face troubled,”To work so hard to make sure he did not escape imprisonment, only to encounter him despite that... It must be difficult to say the least.”Sam feels his jaw clench and states,”What is he? Michael said that the grace he’s left is... off. Tainted somehow.”“My father is sadly silent on the subject. But I can offer my own expertise,” Joshua offers,”What do you know about souls?”“I’ve seen firsthand what the body is like without one,” The cambion responds.The angel remarks with a distant look on his face,”As a gardener, it is my job to make things grow, flourish and weed out things that would prevent that from happening,” His mouth abruptly snapped shut, before he went on,”Souls are some of the most powerful forces in existence. But like many things, they expire, and over time they get weaker, more fragile. The soul that is within that archangel’s vessel is doing the opposite. It’s growing, expanding.”Sam comes out with,”Well, he is wearing my counterpart to prom - He’s his true vessel."
“Precisely. That alone is an advantage that would trump just about any forces we could gather here, but there’s something else...”

“He’s dangerous.”

“More than you could ever imagine.”

Sam hesitates, before setting a hand on the angel’s shoulder, asking softly,”You know something?”

“I do,” Joshua tells him honestly,”I do not know for sure, but I do know... that angel is something warped, tainted... his grace is far too substantial, even for an archangel. And the power that emanates off of him -“

“What is he,” Sam demands again.

“I do not know. This Lucifer,” Joshua whispers fretfully, wringing his hands,”Will be the end of worlds.”

Sam gulps, throat bobbing”...Worlds..?”

“I do not know what he is, or how he can do what he can do...” Joshua admits,”But my father has shown me what this world, and every other world, will be reduced to if he should succeed in whatever he is planning.”

“What did you see...? Joshua. Joshua!”

Joshua flinches violently his face screwing up as he chokes out,”Nothing. I was nothing but... emptiness. Empty.”

Sam growls in frustration,”And he won’t offer a solution? Not even some bread crumbs?”

“I demand nothing of him -“

“Well, I do,” Sam snarls, spit flying from his mouth,”I have too much in this world - My family, my friends. And that thing, that abomination has one of my closest friends. If your father won’t help me...”

Joshua shakes his head mutely. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry...”

“...He has Castiel. One of your brothers,” The cambion informs him,”I’m asking you - Fuck, I’m begging you. Help me! Tell me something, anything! I just... I can’t... I can’t... I can’t lose him."

The angel whispers in response,”Would that I could. My sight is blocked by the coming darkness that will soon swallow us all...”

Sam turns on his heel away from Joshua, his hand going over his mouth as he clenches his eyes shut. ‘Castiel,’ He prays internally,’If you can hear me... Please, just please...’

The sun begins to go down and darkness leaks forth as the night pushes forward. His eyes are positioned onward, open and staring at nothing. He feels a hand comforting hand settle on his shoulder, gently squeezing it. His expression closed up.

‘...Cas...’

———
Castiel opens his eyes to complete and utter darkness, his name in the wind. 
"Sam," He croaks.
---
On arrival at the hospital, Dean followed his other brother into the trauma room, holding tightly on to his hand. Samuel gripped his hand but with much less strength than he had mere minutes before. Dean squeezes his blood covered fingers then pressed the back of his brother's hand against his cheek. His brother smiles at him weakly, his lips trembling gently.

“I'm gonna have to step back,” Dean tells him with shaky smile,”I’m not gonna be far away. I promise. They’re gonna take care of you... gonna take care of you...”
"...his name?" A nurse demands.
"Sam..." Dean’s own voice sounds muddled, distant in his ears,”H-he’s my brother... please... help him...”
"...massive blood loss.."
"..heart rate...”
“...oxygen..”
“Help him!” Dean yells distantly, feeling hands pulling him away for the scene. He can’t breath, can’t think, can’t do anything, but watch.
A plastic mask was fitted over his face, and Samuel’s eyes slowly moved around the room, everything moving like they were underwater. He flinched as something jabbed into the flesh of his arm. Now, everything was fading, like an eraser gliding over a pencil sketch. His surroundings were black and white, steadily being reduced to wavy lines and empty white light.
Samuel’s eyes felt heavy, like fingers were pushing over the lids, guiding him into that white light that shines so bright behind. The hospital seemed softer and more tranquil somehow; he knew he was on the edge of something, and he wanted to find out what. The constant, nerve wracking beeping from one of the many machines he was hooked up to suddenly became a steady whine.
Samuel couldn't understand what they were saying, only gabled whine coming through. He barely sees anything through the pulsating light that nearly blinded him. The last thing he sees is his other brother, leaning over him with his mouth wide open, screaming something at him as spit sprays from his mouth, his face scrunched up in anger. The lines are all gone, erased, only leaving the bright, white light that consumes him.
“...Monster, Sam... you’re a monster...”
A dark, mirthless chuckle.
“...Now you’re gonna get what you deserve...”
Samuel let’s go, his chest rising and falling one last time, before slumping with a shudder. “Monster.”

———

Soulless wanted to scrub away at his eyes because everything was blurred, and what he could see was a single dark shape looming over him. Lucifer stands at his side, clutching what looks to be a medical bag in his hands, his mouth a thin line. He slowly approaches, taking a seat on the edge of the cot that he was laid out on.

“You let me out,” Soulless realizes aloud, licking his lips, tasting the dried crust of the sulfuric liquid.

Lucifer pats his leg, chuckling,”You did what I wanted you to. There was no point keeping you in the dark any longer than necessary,” He went poker-faced,”I simply don’t have the time. But I do have a present for you.”

“Oh, goody,” Soulless utters dryly, flopping his head back down on the scratchy pillow. The thing must be stuffed with newspaper,”Was I good boy this year?”

Lucifer gave a lopsided grin, remarking,”Far from it. But what exactly is ‘good’,” His nose crinkled as he continued,”A construct. Something to keep humans in line. You and I... we’re alike in that way - We’re beyond it.”

“Hmm. I guess that makes us bosom buddies, huh?” Soulless mockingly bats his eyelashes, pushing his lip out.

Lucifer doesn’t acknowledge that, for he goes on, gushing,”But your counterparts, or our’s... I suppose...” He laughs softly, his fingers brushing over his lips,”They like to think themselves better. They give, and they give, and they give - But they never gain. Never expect to in the first place.”

“...what do you want...”
Lucifer giggles,”In every world I’ve seen, it’s all been the same. Every single one of our counterparts has somehow given fate the middle finger and against all odds saved the world, the universe, everything,” His eyes sparkled as he exclaims,”Especially that swan dive into the cage. Oh, how heroic! How simply, well, Sam.”
“What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want,” Soulless demands with a snarl, his aggregation strangling his rough voice.
Lucifer blinks at him, inquiring,”What do I want? Simple,” He answers,”But that... that’s a surprise. Don’t want to spoil it. For now, I’ll just give you a gift...”The archangel takes the bag and settles it on his lap, flicking open the latches and seizes either side of the bag’s opening. He takes his time, gradually opening the bag and blinding light spills through, great rays bursting force as of a star plucked from the sky was trapped inside. The human flinches, turning away.“What is that? What is it? Damn it! What is it?!”Lucifer reaches hand into the bag, his fingers clenching around the pulsating ball of pure light. “It’s your missing piece,” He informs him cooly,”I had to make a quick trip to your world for this. Even after all the time it spent down below, it still shines brighter than all the rest. My own true form resonates with it, yearns for its touch. They’d get lost in one another.”Soulless frantically shakes his head, pleading,”No. No,” His pupils were huge,”Get that thing away from me. I don’t want it! No!”“I need a soul. Your soul,” Lucifer states softly, simpering as he pushes forward.“If you want a soul so bad why not use that one? Hell, I don’t want it. Bon appetit.”

“...This... this thing? You mean the leftovers from my own counterpart’s dog bowl,” Lucifer tilts his head back, laughing,”I wouldn’t exactly count it as a soul. It’s mutilated, grotesque, really an eyesore. But once it’s spent a little time at home...” He runs his hand over the latter’s chest,”...it’ll be ripe for the picking.”

Soulless cries out, scrambling back, begging,”Please, please, I’ll do anything! Anything! Fuck,” He groans as the latter’s free hand easily pins him down, like an insect on display,”Why the fuck are you doing this? What’s your endgame?”

Lucifer’s lips curved into the smallest of smiles, his hand gripping the soul tight stopping mere millimeters from his chest. “Endgame...” He tilts his head ever so slightly,”That implies that there will be an end.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

April 6, 2009

Lucifer impatiently flicks repeatedly at the side of the unconscious human’s face. Soulless groans and pulls us wrists against the chains keeping him in place, before rapidly blinking his eyes open. Those cold, calculating hazel eyes swivel up towards his captor, and slowly narrow. His lips crease into a slight frown.
 
“I-I don’t feel any different,” Soulless admits, lifting his shoulders and slumping them again.
 
Lucifer inclines his head towards him with the tiniest of amused smiles. “And you shouldn’t,” He swoops downwards, leaning close to his face as he gently trails a finger down his chest,”You’re not whole. There’s still that piece missing.”
 
“You...you took it away, again...why...?”
 
The archangel lifts his finger away, curling the rest of them simultaneously, until his hand rests over his breast. “I thought it’d be rather obvious. There’s no point in having a threat if it’s just doled out in one fell swoop,” He taps a finger against his chest, explaining cooly,”If there’s nothing left to lose, there’s nothing left to take.”
 
“Listen, buddy. I’ve flapped my jaw a few too many times trying to figure out what in the hell you want,” Soulless growls in turn, annoyed,”How am I supposed to avoid said threat, if I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do -“
 
“Just be,” Lucifer answers simply, lips remaining parted. He flourishes one hand towards the open cell door, and simultaneously the chains around the latter’s wrist burst,”Leave now, and never come back. All I want for you to do is...whatever the hell you want.”
 
Lucifer stares down at the human, sees the doubt, the sharp instincts at high alert. He was like a dog that had been kicked one too many times, but couldn’t ignore his growling belly as a hand offered him scraps. The archangel’s lips twitch and the form something reminiscent of a smile. He waves his hand towards the door, ushering the human out.
 
“Go,” The archangel urges,”Take off the mask, and live as you are. All of you, every intricate, yet diverse model, must learn that there is no fighting that darkness. All you can do is let it flood over you, and hope that you don’t drown...”

Sam Winchester’s soul still lingered in his corpse - Trapped within a mass of angelic grace, curled up in the crisis depths of celestial power. The knife he’d used to cut his throat in a momentary lapse in his possession was just a few inches away from his hand, and the spray of claret across the blade was oozing onto the carpet. This was no clean cut, for the archangel had struggled for control as the human had begun slicing at the flesh, leaving the throat with jagged, uneven tears that made it seem as if some wild animal had ravaged the corpse.

Lucifer rose from the center of the human’s chest, hushing Sam’s soul in soothing tones, cold air wafted across the eerily empty room with every shush. The archangel’s true face made the mere human soul wish he could go blind and insane, but the angel would never let him. It hurt and he could feel it there. Deep within his very mortal soul, but it was sublime. Beautiful beyond words. The kind of beauty that could never be seen nor spoken by the sane. And the human was many things, but sane was most definitely not one of them.

Lucifer reached out, a tendril along Sam's cold cheekbones, back and forth until the man’s old, nearly dry tear tracks were gone. It ran another tendril gently down and up Sam's hair, the cold dipping, then running through each intricate strand. His chestnut colored hair is stiff, and cool at the touch with slobbering masses of still damp blood caught in large, knotted chunks of his hair. The tendrils of light pulled tight around his waist, catching the corpse and lifting it up. The soul watched as the thing lifted him in the air, holding his body like his older brother would when he was a small infant.

Lucifer fuses into him with his tendrils of grace. He twists and molds his very essence into the veins and arteries, commands flesh to knit itself back together, and watches as it obeys. The corpse’s throat pieces itself back together, healing into a smooth expanse of skin. The heart in his chest begins to beat steady like a drum, blood returning to the eerily pale skin. A rosiness rises in his cheeks and his lips begin to fill and moisten. Suddenly, the body draws a breath and Sam’s eyes snap open. His hands reach out, grabbing at something that isn’t there. Before he can have any semblance of control in his newly formed body, the archangel pushes forward seizing the reins. And there’s no resistance.

The two stay silent for several weeks. For the first time in their shared existence, Sam was quiet as a mouse in the back of his own mind, a silent, horrified spectator to the carnage that was wrought with his own, uncontrolled hands. Lucifer was annoyed at his vessel’s new attitude to say the least. The fight was half the fun.

“You’re quiet,” Lucifer says at last, two weeks after he dragged his vessel back from the depths,”Too quiet. I’m not used to being alone in here.”

There’s no reply.

“Sam - Sammy...c’mon,” Lucifer huffs in annoyance,”It’s not like either one of us have anyone else to talk to. It’s just us now. We’re...we’re all alone now. I’ll even settle for your usual nagging.”

Sam speaks lowly, his voce barely more than a croak in the back of his mind,”I was drowning.”

“What?”

“When...when you snapped his neck, I-I felt it...and - and I could feel his soul fleeing his body. It called to me,” Sam cries pathetically,”My brother, Dean, you killed him. You told me...you told me you’d never - You told me you’d never lie! It was the one thing that you ever did for me! You never lied...but you did...you killed him...! You took him and left me alone in the dark...!”

Lucifer blinks slowly, dragging his fingers across his temple as he states tiredly,”That’s what this is about? This temper tantrum is for...him? Sam - Sammy...sweet, soft Sammy,” He chuckles darkly, throwing his hands into the air,”Why do you cry for a man who only ever hated and feared you - For a fill-in
who never even wanted you, not the real you! He just wanted the image of you he’d conjured up, this puppy-eyed idiot who rode shot-gun and indulged him. If he actually gave a shit about you, he would have fought for you!“

Sam snarls in reply,”Fuck you. Fuck you, you son of a bitch,” He cries harder,”Don’t you see - You’ve won! You got what you wanted! It’s gone, all of it, and it’s just us. You finally broke me.”

“...Sam, you knew what you were doing when you came to me all those years ago, abandoned, forgotten by your own brother. You knew what you were doing when you told me ‘yes’, and let me in.”

“I was trying to trick you - “

The archangel laughs coldly,”Maybe - At first...but then as you felt the two of us as one, true and whole, for the first time ever, you didn’t struggle, you didn’t fight. No, you gave in...you gave into me, Sam...You gave into us.”

Sam denied coldly,”No.”

“Sammy...If you don’t want to drown, you’ll need something to hold onto,” Lucifer tells him gently, almost kindly,”I’m all you have left in this world. Come away with me.”

“Come away with me,” Lucifer whispers to himself, dragging his fingers over his lips. He shudders,”You haven’t spoken in so long...I sometimes wonder if you’re still even in there. Have you already drowned?”
 
SPNSPN
 
Samuel awakens to the sound of a thousand bells ringing simultaneously, a bright golden light penetrating his eyelids. He comes gasping back to life, and flails up from the bed, kicking off the papery sheets and the thick, itchy blankets. Before he can even take in his surroundings, two thick, burly arms are thrown around his neck and he’s pulled into a crushing hug. He wheezes and curls his hands into fists.
 
“Sammy,” The voice breathes against his neck, pulling him even closer as his fingers rest on his neck.
 
“D-Dean...Dean...” Sam croaks and Dean hesitantly pulls away from him, eyes crinkling as he gives him a watery smile,”...Y-you’re old...”
 
Dean rolls his eyes, clapping his back,”Of course, I rescue you, and the first thing you do is point out my grey hairs and wrinkles. Well, guess what, bitch, your hair is receding - There! I said it!”
 
Sam scowls and hisses,”Where is Dean-two?”
 
“What is this fucking Pokémon -“ Dean quips, but stiffens as another, younger Dean appears in the doorway with two styrofoam boxes.
 
Younger Dean scoffs and comments,”Son of a bitch...I did get old.”
 
Bobby chuckles at that, though his unease is very apparent. “Welcome to the club, son.”
 
“Bobby,” Dean wonders aloud,”Damn, it’s good to see you as well...you.”
 
Bobby looks taken aback at that and inquires,”And who else would I be?”
 
Dean creases his lips and fidgets in place, before answering,”The impromptu leader of the human resistance in a post-apocalyptic world.”
 
“Huh,” Bobby says, frowning deeply.
 
Samuel blinks,”Okay, either I didn’t get healed properly...or I’m seeing double. Wait,” He looks at his lap at what looks to be a sheepskin with a gold threat outline,”Dean! You used the Golden Fleece on me? This is supposed to be for emergencies -“
 
“Okay, so you being on the brink of death isn’t considered an emergency,” Dean exclaims throwing his hands into the air,”I swear - You’re just trying to find reasons to be pissed at me nowadays! Yes, I used the damn fleece -“
 
Samuel smiles weakly, shaking his head,”Jerk.”
 
“Bitch,” Dean replies automatically, taking a seat on the side of the bed,”God, it’s been long. Too long. I-I’d almost given up...”
 
Samuel’s eyebrows furrow together, and he reminds him,”It’s only been a few days,” He turns to the younger version of his brother, questioning him worriedly,”R-right, Dean? Dean.”
 
Dean hesitates, then answers slowly, eyes downcast,”Maybe here. Sam...Sammy,” He gulps,”It’s been a year on our earth since you went missing. But, hey, that doesn’t matter now...I found you, we found you.”
 
“A year,” Samuel hisses under his breath,”H-how...how did you find me? I didn’t think there was a way for us to open any portals - Is Jack -“
 
“That doesn’t matter now, okay? We tracked you down here and now we’re going home,” Dean interupts, forcing a smile.
 
Samuel frowns, before he turns to the doorway and he gasps,”Cas...”
 
Castiel gives him his usual tight lipped smile as he slowly shuffles towards the bed,”Hello, Sam,” He says gravely, stopping at the side of the bed and gently patting the human’s hand,”It’s a relief to see you well -“
 
“Screw that,” Samuel hisses, grabbing the angel by his trench coat and yanking him into a hug. The angel grunts in surprise, before hesitantly holding him in return, one of his hands cupping the human’s neck.
 
“Alright, break it up. We ain’t got time for anymore teary-eyed reunions,” Dean grunts, wedging a hand between the two,”We’ve gotta get you home.”
 
Samuel stiffens at that, and gulps,”I-I can’t, Dean. At least...not right away,” At his other brother’s look of surprise, he goes on,”...I’m not alone. There are other versions of myself here that are trapped without anyone at their backs. And now there’s something big that’s coming for all of us. I don’t have it in me to leave them all behind to save my own skin.”
 
Dean’s eyes narrow, but he turns to Castiel, asking stiffly,”How long do we have?”
 
Castiel hesitates before answering, glancing nervously at Samuel,”As long as Rowena keeps Jack under control with nephilim-catcher we don’t have any limit on time.”
 
“What are you talking about? Where’s Jack,” Samuel inquires, confused,”And where’s Mom?”
 
Dean frowns deeply at that, blanching as his jaw tightens. “Sam...Sammy, fuck. Why’d you have to ask? Look...” His chin trembles and he gently envelops his hand around his little brother’s shoulder, clenching it tightly. Without warning, a single tear trickles down his cheek,”I really wanted to wait until we were at least back at home, in the bunker, but...Sammy, Mom...s-she’s gone. She’s gone, Sammy.”
 
Samuel chokes out,”What? No, no! S-she can’t...we just got her back...” He angrily shoves his brother’s hand away,”S-she’s not gone!”
 
“Sam,” Castiel states firmly, seizing either of the latter’s arms in his inhuman grip,”Look at me. There was nothing that could be done. Jack, h-he...there’s something wrong with him. Something broken that can never be repaired. A-and your mother...”
 
Samuel’s sadness is a hallowness. It feels as if every other emotion he’d ever felt had been purged from his being. Where there was the love, the light, the laughter is an aching hollowness. His hazel eyes became glassy under the sheen of water, constant, yet allowing the tears to flow without pause.
 
“Stop it,” Samuel hisses through clenched teeth, placing his hands over his ears,”I-I can’t...please...just stop... Mom, no, no...no!”
 
The lamp on the bedside table jumps a few inches slowly off of the table, before shattering in a spray of glass. Samuel bows his head, shaking violently, as he rocks back and forth. The lights in the room begin to flicker on and off as the furniture begins to tremble. He hadn’t felt this kind of power in years, for so long it had lain dormant.
 
“No...no...stop it. Stop it,” Samuel cries hoarsely against the roar of wind in his ears.
 
Samuel can almost taste it on his lips, and his mouth salivates at the thought. The burning sulfuric liquid that sloshes in his mouth, scalds his throat as he gulps it down in great, flooding mouthfuls. He imagines the warm liquid dribbling down his lips messily, staining his white hospital gown. And that same whisper from years long past was in the back of his head; the forked tongue of the devil himself.
 
Samuel can still hear thundering voices in the hospital room, screaming his name, trying to break through to him. But he’s deaf to their pleas as soon as he hears him in his head. ‘Drink it. Drink it all,’ Lucifer urges in his mind,‘You’ll never drink your fill. Try and fill that emptiness.’
 
“Apocalypse World, Michael's armies -- you really think you and your family can handle that stuff alone?” Lucifer takes the final step closer, cornering the latter into the wall, and he trailed his fingers down the edge of his jawline,” You need me.”

Samuel flinches away from the touch, keeping his head turned as the fingers instead settle in his hair. “And what if I say no?”

Lucifer clears his throat and his fingers scrunch into Sam’s mess of hair. Sam tried to pull away but Lucifer tightens his hold and pushes his head back until his throat was exposed. And for a second as the archangel dipped down, he wondered if he’d imprint on his neck as the feral vampires had just a few hours before.

Lucifer licks his lips, and draws away after a moment and whispers,”Right, let me just make this really, really, really easy -- easy enough for even you to understand, Sammy. I'm gettin' to Jack one way or the other. The only question is, you coming with? Or that,” The vampire’s growls steadily grow louder, almost as if they all anticipated the blood bath that would come,”Your move, champ.”

Samuel stares intently into Lucifer’s eyes, his nostrils flaring as his breath begins to quicken again. Lucifer reached out again, running the back of his hand across the latter’s cheek. The human’s breath caught. His eyes widened. No mistaking that gesture, the intimate nature of it. The sensual lingering of a cool hand just under his eye, a fingertip over his lip. His lips brush the human’s cheek. Not innocently, like a tease but rough, scalding, and demanding.

“S-stop,” Samuel manages to grit out, his lips trembling as the single finger against them presses harder.

“Your heart," Lucifer whispered, staring at the spot over Samuel’s chest,”It’s like a bird in there, just fluttering in a mad panic."

Putting his hand over his chest as if covering himself, Samuel swallowed once, pulling his head away from the archangel’s hand. Then all of a sudden, the archangel was closer to him, holding him in his arms like a snake around a mouse, flush against his body. A kiss, coppery and hot, pressed to his mouth and stole entry, forcing a long taste that the human could not stop. He slanted his head further, deepening the kiss. Without thinking, he’s reaching out an arm to shove him away from him. But his efforts to cease the latter’s touches were half-hearted at best - no sense in wasting energy fighting a losing battle.

Samuel lets out an involuntary whine. Lucifer feels every frantic, fluttering heartbeat as he presses against his chest, and only relents when spots begin to dance across his vision from a dangerous lack of oxygen. When Lucifer realizes Sam isn’t kissing back, his lips go completely still against his, before he removes them entirely. There is a line of saliva as their lips pull apart, but the archangel doesn’t move a damn inch further. The human’s lips are red and swollen, his eyes are blown wide, and his breathing is quickened.

Lucifer’s voice is uncharacteristically calm as he utters,”You can smell it...can’t you? My blood,” He chuckles deeply,”You can hear it pumping away...”

“No,” Samuel denies quickly.

“If you want it...take it,” Lucifer urges, running his nail over his wrist, slitting it open. A sweeping waterfall of sulfuric blood falls down to the dirt below, splashing downwards and sloshing there,”Lick it from the dirt.”

“No! Never...I told him, I told my brother I’d never...never...” Samuel trails off as his mouth gapes open, his tongue flicking over his lips,”I c-can’t...please...please don’t make me...”

“I won’t make you do anything,” Lucifer promises, eyes glittering wickedly,”No, no. You’ll fill the emptiness on your own... That’s how you’ve always felt. Empty. Hollow. Like something is missing. In truth, it’s because you’re full of nothing but darkness, evil.”

Samuel groans at the smell, turning his head away. “F-fuck...stop...stop,” He pleads, gritting his teeth tightly,”Get it away! Now! I can’t - Fuck! I won’t!”

Lucifer hovers his bleeding wrist over the latter’s face, teasingly wafting the smell around the human. “You’ve been able to resist your everyday demon blood, but can you resist this rare vintage...” He dips a finger into the gaping wound, gently running it over the latter’s trembling lips,”If you want it...take it... Try and fill that emptiness.”

And those same words echo in his head right then,’If you want it, take it.’
 
Samuel swings his legs over the side of the hospital bed, and lowly asks, voice trembling,”I want you to tell me what happened. And no more skipping around. Just...just tell me what happened...”
 
Castiel answers,”Jack doesn’t have a soul. He didn’t know any better...he didn’t mean to hurt her.”
 
Dean cuts in harshly,”He’s under lockdown now. He’s never gonna hurt anyone again.”
 
Samuel swipes his arm across the air, silencing them both. “I can see it, in your head,” He whispers hoarsely, face stony,”The trees torn from the ground, the scorched earth...and the ashes... He didn’t kill her. He obliterated her. And you...” His eyes flicker to the angel in the room,”You knew about his soul, and you didn’t say a word.”
 
“Sam,” Castiel starts, guilt clouding his usual dull expression,”I know, I know that and I’m sorry. Just - Just let us get you home...”
 
“They’re both gone,” Samuel utters,”And all I can think about...is how damn thirsty I am.”
 
“You drank demon blood. Didn’t you,” Dean realizes with horror, his features twisting violently.
 
His counterpart cuts in icily,”He did it to save us. He didn’t have a damn choice!”
 
The seasoned hunter adds,”If you’ve got a problem with that, talk to us. It was our lives on the line.”
 
Castiel ignores the quickly growing noise of the three humans arguing as he slowly edges over to Samuel. “Sam, something is wrong. I can feel it,” He offers his hand towards him, silently asking permission,”No mere mouthful of demon blood could give you the power I feel radiating off of you now.”
 
Lucifer’s voice chuckles from within,’What is it that demon bitch, Ruby, said? You didn't need the feather to fly. You had it in you the whole time, Dumbo!’
 
“No,” Samuel groans, shuffling away on the bed away from the angel’s prying hands,”She was lying.”
 
‘Your powers have been dormant for so long. Bottled up inside,’ Lucifer purrs,’Just that tiny swallow, barely a mouthful, was enough to pop off the cork.’
 
“No -“
 
“-Sammy-“
 
“-Son.”
 
‘Pop,’ Lucifer giggles in his head.
 
And he does.
 
SPNSPN
 
Michael held the newly repaired body close to his body, cradling his head to his chest, as he approached the snow laden path towards the house. He steadily took each step up the stairs, until he reached the door and gently twisted the knob, immediately going towards the large couch in the middle of the living room. The archangel laid the cambion down on the couch with all the gentleness his nature would allow, which essentially meant he threw him down.
 
There was a ruffle of feathers from behind Michael and he gradually turned to Lucifer, his facial expression stony. Lucifer stared at him curiously, arms folded behind his back as he tilted his head. Michael stepped forward, seemingly surprising his younger brother, who in turn takes a step back. This makes the older archangel chuckle softly in amusement.
 
“Hello, brother,” Lucifer greets with a sadness in his eyes.
 
“Don’t...don’t do that,” Michael responds cooly,”Don’t act as if whatever you’re about to do burdens or pains you in some way...you haven’t felt anything up to this point. Why should you now?”
 
Lucifer shakes his head in denial, gently extending his fingers towards his brother, grazing his vessel’s jaw line. “After all of this time, do you really believe that,” He whispers, gently,”I am not a creature of hatred and fear as you and our old man have lead everyone to believe. I am simply a lamb that was raised for slaughter, that didn’t want to be eaten. I did what I had to do...to live.”
 
“You still think you’re the tragic hero of this story? The victim -“
 
“I became the wolf because it was a part of my story. Because our father put that mark on me, until it twisted and corrupted me, turning me into this jealous, spiteful creature. The ultimate villain for this story that is still being written,” Lucifer proclaims, drawing his hand away as he breathes harshly, his eyes burning a bloody red with anger,”I never wanted to fall. I never wanted to be the big bad wolf. I was...made to be.”
 
The older archangel challenges him,”You claim that you’re still the lamb...show me. Just this once, show mercy and walk away,” He motions towards the still open door, towards the falling snow outside,”You keep preaching of free will, of choice, then for once in your life choose to be the better one.”
 
The younger archangel counters,”It’s too late, far too late, now. I’m tired, brother...I’m so tired,” He sniffles softly, teeth gritted. Crimson tears of blood cascade from the smoldering coals that are his eyes,”I wanted to fight it for the longest time. And I did...for a small while. I lost. And now, here we are.”
 
”Dry your eyes, little brother,” Michael says coldly,”Tears don’t suit you. They never have.”
 
“I cried when I begged you not to throw me into that cage,” Lucifer whispers, more tears falling.
 
Michael’s facial expression actually softens at that,”You were just a fledgling,” He shakes his head and looks away from the latter,”But, you gave me no choice. You disobeyed our father and you betrayed me. It still didn’t make it easy.”
 
Lucifer sniffs. “You still could have said no,” He says softly,”You could have said no a thousand times, even after that. Everything that you’ve done, has lead to this, brother. To your undoing.”
 
The older archangel nods slowly in acknowledgement. “I know,” He admits,”I guess that’s just how I was written. To be the fanatically loyal and good son...you never could be. The light to your dark. But...even then...what we had, in every universe, it was something that most people could never understand. A love that could never be fathomed -“
 
“Like you’d know anything about love,” The younger archangel counters.
 
Michael smiles ruefully,”I loved you, didn’t I?”
 
“Once, maybe,” Lucifer concedes,”But, that was a long time ago. You stopped loving me when you threw me in that damn cage.”
 
Michael smiles, a true genuine smile as his eyes stare off into the distance. “...Do what you must. Just...just don’t stop fighting... Even if it’s a lifetime from here, from this moment, keep fighting for what who you once were. Remember the beginning.”
 
“You threw me from the heavens,” The younger archangel reminds him with a wet laugh,”When all I wanted was to be held by you.”
 
“So that you could learn to fly. You...have to fall before you can ever fly.”
 
Lucifer reaches into his jacket, pulling out a thick curling blade of pure gold, twisting in it in his grip, before plunging it into his brother’s stomach. Michael screams, his grace exploding from deep in the confines of his vessel as his eyes stream out the light from within. His eyes widen ever so slightly and a soft gasp escapes his lips, his last breath leaving. Lucifer feels his lips tremble and more tears escape his eyes. He reaches a hand forward and gently brushed his fingers against his brother’s vessel’s eyelids, pushing them closed as he gently lowered him to the ground.
 
“The story will end soon...it will all end soon,” Lucifer gives him that final reassurance. He slowly turns to the cambion on the couch, who is now sitting up with alarm in his eyes and a hand over his mouth,”But not until all of the characters collide.”
 
Sam gulps heavily, asking,”Who are you?”
 
Lucifer frowns slightly, before giving a brief chuckle,”I thought that would be quite obvious at this point.”
 
“No,” Sam whispers with a doubting shake of his head,”You’re not Lucifer. You - You can’t be him.”
 
“And why’s that?”
 
“Because you feel too much like me.”
 
There’s a creak from behind, footsteps descending down the stairs. A young man stops at the end of the stairs, before slowly making his way into the living room with wide hazel eyes. He’s tall, but not nearly as tall as himself and very svelte. He has loose dirty blonde curls to his shoulders with milky skin that doesn’t seem to have even a single mark. His soft pink lips are parted ever so slightly, harsh, nervous breathes escaping them.
 
“F-father...?”
 
Sam blinks at the new figure, approaching him cautiously. The latter steps a few steps closer, meeting him in the middle. The cambion stares into those hazel hues, so much like his own, nearly getting lost in them. He shakily exhales, and his hand goes over his mouth is shock as his other grand rests on the young man’s smooth cheek.
 
“H-Henry?”
 
Henry nods excitedly, a tear escaping his eye that he quickly wipes away. “Yeah, it’s me,” His hand goes over the hand on his cheek, gently squeezing it,”Sam.”
 
Sam stares to his son, his face tight, every thought focused on masking his fears - his eyes dimmed. He reached out and hugged him tightly, a hug so warm yet so different than a fatherly embrace. Henry rests his head against his father’s shoulder, raveling his arms across his chest and he rests his hands on his shoulder blades. When they finally parted, the two felt one another’s absence as a cold wind.
 
Lucifer watched all this with interest, one eye brow raised. “A nephilim. I have not seen one of your kind since life was first breathed into the very first man,” He steps closer, observing him cautiously, before pointing at him with a smile,”You, you’re the one that brought me here.”
 
“It was an accident,” Henry replies sheepishly, shuffling his feet as he looks down at the ground.
 
Lucifer purses his lips, letting out a huffing laugh as he states,”Maybe, it was an accident on your part, but not in the grand scheme of things,” He continues,”You see, this is a story, and we’re just playing our parts. In my universe, my story never played out the way it was supposed to...because of...you...”
 
Sam frowns deeply, his throat bobbing nervously. “Me?”
 
Lucifer places his two hands over his own chest, and utters coldly,”A version of you at least. You see, even after I’d burned the whole world down, reduced everything to ashes, he couldn’t take control of his own body. He lied dormant, trapped, screaming and drowning in the dark,” He grins manically, and a corner of his lip twitches,”He was broken. Or he thought it was, but it wasn’t until I snapped his brother’s neck, that he finally learned what being broken truly was. That, that was supposed to be your story...our story...”
 
“I stopped it,” Sam snarls in defiance.
 
“Here,” Lucifer admits with a slight shrug,”But my world, my world... It was finally quiet. Just me and him, alone at last. It was then...then that he finally decided to fight back. And he did something very unexpected...he won. He imprisoned me in my own vessel, used my power, mine, to return breath life back into that world of ashes. He even brought back his brother.”

Sam wheezes going to his knees, and with his eyes closed, his head upwards towards the sky, he cries softly. Someone is in front of him, running their hands over his face, and gently brushing away his tears. He can hear their voice, calling his name, his fingers combing through his long mess of hair. He falls against his chest, his tears dribbling down his chest like hot oil as he struggles to breath.

“Sam, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you,” Dean whispers into his ear, gripping his shirt tightly and gently softly pressing his lips on his head,”I'm not gonna leave you.”

“Y-y-you d-did...y-y-you...a-ab-abandoned m-m-m-e...” Sam grits out, before throwing his head to the ground with a sob. Slowly, soundlessly he lifts his head back up, his eyes flashing red for a brief moment,”You left him, Dean. And where did he run? Straight into my open arms.”

“Sammy? Are you in there,” Dean wonders aloud, vision blurring with poorly reigned in tears.

Lucifer laughs through his vessel’s dry, chapped lips, wheezing,”Oh, he’s in here, Dean. And he’s being torn apart from the inside out,” He chuckles weakly, coughing,”He’s a fighter, I’ll give him that. No mere human has ever been able to take the reigns from me. But his insides, his very mortal soul, are being broken down...piece by piece...until he’s nothing. Emptiness. If I can’t have him, wholly and truly as mine, no one will. Not even himself.”

“But he lost. Because that is your story, Sam,” Lucifer exclaims haughtily, lip curling,”You will always lose. No matter the place in time, or the place in the universe...you will always be the tragic hero of the story,” He sweeps his arms over himself, displaying his vessel with a smirk,”Lucifer’s True Vessel.”
 
Sam gulps, backing away as Lucifer, the monster with his face begins to walk towards him,”No.”
 
Lucifer chuckles, sweeping a hand to freeze him in place, before settling two fingers over his temple. “The Boy with the Demon Blood.”
 
Sam gasps, thrashes against the power holding him in place as he’s violently thrown into another scene. He sees his counterpart, Samuel, grabbing a knife and slicing it across a demon’s neck, before running his lips over the violent waterfall of crimson. His counterpart cries soundlessly as he suckles at the gaping skin, digging his finger nails into the quickly cooling flesh.
 
“Abomination. Antichrist. The Man with No Soul -“
 
Sam groans aloud, clutching at his forehead as he’s dragged into another scene. It was a small apartment with only three visible figures, one of which was his counterpart that lacked a soul. In the distance, a baby's cries filled the apartment. He was surprised the woman on the couch hadn't woken up, until he saw the blood pooling under he stomach. His counterpart twisted his leg around and kicked the wailing man away from the couch, right into the television which crashed to the floor.
 
“Please...please,” The man begs throatily, holding his hands in defense in front of himself,”My wife...she was bitten a few years ago, and she’s only fed this once. It’s just her...just her...”
 
Soulless frowns and corrects the man,”No...the two of you had a child just a few months after she was bitten.”
 
“No - No,” The man sobs,”Not her! She’s not like my wife - She’s human! Human - No, no, no... Stop! Don’t -“
 
Lucifer brings Sam back to awareness, declaring,”These titles, they’re just names of different stories that may have different paths, but they all lead to the same place,” The archangel preaches earnestly,”Your destiny. Which leads us to where we are now - You, your title. The Boy King of Hell.”
 
Henry steps beside Sam, taking his hand in his as he spits out,”Listen, you great bag of dicks! Sam Winchester is not your puppet, or any twat waffle that is stupid enough to mess with him.”
 
Lucifer chuckles at the nephilim’s small outburst, wagging his finger at him. “You’re a firey one. You do remind me a great deal of my brother. He was always funny, even to me,” His laughter ceases as he abruptly proclaims,”Besides, you both have me all wrong. It’d be no fun if I made you fall into your roles in your respective stories. No, I’m going to give you a choice. Your other counterparts, not just the ones here, every single one eventually fell into that emptiness deep inside them - That darkness that you all have, the one you could almost drown in.”
 
“...You’re telling me there’s not a single universe where I win? Where I...I’m not evil,” Sam chokes out.
 
“A handful won. They...” Lucifer shapes his fingers into the shape of a gun and holds it his temple,”...just took the choice from themselves. Or they simply...went out. Much like your friend upstairs.”
 
The nephilim exclaims in dismay,”W-what? What are you talking about...Samson? No,” His jaw clenches,”You’re a liar.”
 
“No, he’s not,” The cambion says cooly,”He’s many things, but a liar isn’t one of them - At least not me. Did you do it? Did...did you kill him?”
 
The archangel responds,”No, I did not. The magic, the power coursing through his veins from the Trials, it tore him apart from the inside out...” He looks thoughtful as he goes on,” Nothing could be done.”
 
“...I want you to send him back.”
 
“And why would I do that -“
 
Sam faces Lucifer, eyes softening as he points out,”Because it’s me. I never met you in this world, but I do know you,” He pleads,”He doesn’t belong here. And his family...they’ll never stop looking for him.”
 
“Very well,” Lucifer concedes, and he snaps his fingers,”It’s done. That version of his brother should find him resting in his bed, and he’ll almost look asleep. If it’s any comfort, his soul is at rest.”
 
Sam blinks slowly, exhaling,”W-what...are my choices?”
 
“Simple,” Lucifer replies,”There’s a vacant seat in hell. I certainly won’t be filling it. I just paved the way for you. What path you take is all up to you now. If you walk one path, you’ll stay here with your son, maybe reunite with your brother and the rest of your disgustingly human friends. You’ll watch them all return to the ash from which they came, as one by one, they’re killed before your helpless eyes. Your power, the power you have now, can only destroy, it cannot heal. And your angel friend will stay in the darkest depths of hell, until his light will eventually burns out. Your son may be with you, but eventually he’ll go his own way...and you’ll be all alone. The other path, you sit on the vacant throne of hell and save your angel. Save him like you couldn’t save your lover, the father of your one and only child. You will feel power like you’ve never felt before, and with that power you’ll take control of the spawns of hell - You’ll save your brother, your friends, every nameless, faceless human in this earth from the things that go bump in the night. You will become your worst nightmare, a monster.”

“Don’t you get it? I never had a chance Dean. I have demon blood in me,” Sam’s voice is trembling, and his vision starts to blur as he continues, “You’re angry, and, trust me, I understand. I’m willingly taking in the poison that we’ve been trained to kill our entire lives, and fuck I love it – I love it, Dean. Because no matter what I say or what I do I can’t deny the fact that I am a monster!”

Sam breathes in.

“I've got demon blood in me, Dean. This disease pumping through my veins and I can't ever rip it out or scrub it clean. I'm a whole new level of freak! And I'm just trying to take this—this curse...and make something good out of it.”

Sam breathes out, his lips staying parted.

“Better than mother’s milk.” Yellow eyes flash in Sam’s mind; burn there.

Henry shakes his head mutely, watching the wheels turn in his head. Sam breathes is, steadier this time and his mouth gently shuts, forming a thin line.

“I can’t die,” Sam says, and when all he gets in return is a pair of sullen honey-brown eyes he simply knows, “I-I can’t… die.” His few, precious remaining friends were mortal. They would die. He was forever but they would die. He would have them for a few decades, a few precious, short years, and then they would die. He would have them for a blink of time and then they would die, and he would be alone.

“That,” Lucifer chuckles, wagging his finger at him,”Has always been...your worst fear. Being alone. Completely alone with only your own darkness as company. And, well, there’s...Castiel.”

“…I owe you everything. Sam, you saved the world, and in a way you saved me.”

Sam shook his head, and whispers,”We saved each other.”

“Henry,” Sam utters at last, turning to his son,”I...I want you to go upstairs, and stay with Samson and Alfie.”
 
“No. No, I can fight,” Henry whispers softly with a shake of his head,”You don’t have to protect me.”
 
Lucifer scoffs, and dryly comments,”You could fight me...maybe even defeat me. But not here, not now,” He gestures a hand over himself,”One hit...It doesn’t even have to knock me off my feet, and I’ll walk out that door right now.”
 
Henry’s eyes flicker down to the floor and his fingers curl into a tight fist. “I-I...” He gulps heavily, admitting,”I can’t.”
 
“No, you can’t. You’re young...and weak,” Lucifer tells him simply,”But your power will come in time. For now, you’re barely more than human.”
 
“Henry, go upstairs,” Sam whispers softly.
 
“No,” Henry denies stubbornly,”I-I can’t...I can’t let you do this. Our family, Dean, Bobby, Cas...you can’t do this to us!”
 
The cambion sniffs, giving his son a weak smile as he state,”I can. It’s hard, harder than you’ll ever know, but I can. And I am,” He reaches forward and gently tucks a stray hair behind his son’s ear,”This is my story. I’ve tried to fight it, run from it...But it’s simply who I am.”
 
The archangel purrs,”And who’s that?”
 
“I’m the fall guy,” Sam answers with a bitter laugh,”I’m the tragic hero of the story, and I was stupid to think that I’d ever get a happy ending...in any universe. But this way, the ones I love, my friends and family, they’ll be able to have what I never can have. A happy ending to their stories, or as close to one as they can get in this life.”
 
“Dad, no -“
 
Sam squeezed his eyes shut, and a line appeared between his brows. “Y-you...called me ‘dad’,” The corners of his mouth turned up,”It’s going to be okay. Dean, Cas...they’ll take good care of you. They’ll show you what it means to be human, and what it means to not be. You’ll find a balance. You...you’re going to be okay...okay... Say it with me...”
 
Sadness clouded Henry’s features as his eyes welled up. “No, no...don’t make me let you go,” He whispers,”Please...please...”
 
“Say it with me, Henry. Say it.”
 
“...I-I’m going to be okay.”
 
“Again.”
 
“I’m going to be okay,” Henry states emptily, as tears ran down his cheeks.
 
The nephilim closed his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering, and in this few short seconds, there was a great rush of air and a sound of ruffling feathers. When he opened his eyes the archangel and the cambion were both gone. He sniffs, and his hand cups his mouth as his eyes flicker to the corpse of the other archangel on the floor. The remnants of his wings are scorched black onto the carpet.

Another Earth

May 1, 2013

When Kevin walks into the garage, padding in silently, Dean is on his knees in front of the impala, a pile of old bed sheets beside him, silent tears cascading down the blood and ichor drying on his face. His clothes and hands are saturated; his dirty blonde hair soaked and sticking to his forehead. He has a needle and thread pressed between his forefinger and thumb, with one of the sheets pressed against the side of the car.
 
A large mass is wrapped in clean sheets from the torso up; a pair of torn and frayed jeans hang from the other half along with pale, bare feet that resemble those of a large china doll’s; fragile, pale and lifelike. The prophet feels a sudden weight drop to the pit of his belly, and his hand slaps over his mouth as the sudden urge to vomit washes over him like a frigid tide. On the right foot there was a wide, sunken cicatrice.

Sam Winchester was padding around the bunker in a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt, along with a gray house robe that looked ridiculous on the large man, for his staggering height made it come up to his mid-calves. Kevin Tran’s gaze doesn’t linger on the ill-fitted house coat, however, but on the hunter’s large uncovered feet. On his right foot there is a jagged disfigurement, that extended from the end of his big-toe to mid-foot like a discolored stream.

Sam raises an eyebrow, before following the young man’s eyes. After a moment, he smiles. “Yeah,” The hunter mutters, running hand through his messy mane of hair,”That’s probably one of the nastiest scars I have.”

“Hunting accident?” The prophet asks out of curiosity. He’s steeping a tea bag in a mug of scalding water, watching billows of beige penetrate the clear liquid. The string is wrapped around his forefinger and he dips up and down generously, but he tries to keep eye contact with his friend to show that he does have interest.

Sam’s smile widens and he lets out a soft laugh,”Actually, no. I had dish duty one night and I dropped a kitchen knife onto my bare foot. It sunk all the way to the spine of the blade, and for a split second I didn’t even react,” He shakes his head,”Oddly enough, more of my scars come from plain, boring everyday things then hunting.”

As the words left Sam Winchester’s mouth, Castiel walked in. A heavy silence settled over them, thicker then the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. Unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around and tried to avoid catching the other’s glance. Kevin shifted uncomfortably in his seat and he grasped his sweaty hands around his steaming cup, and shuffled his feet against the scuffs on the floor below.

The seraph also looked to have just gotten out of bed, which was odd considering his species does not sleep. Both he and Sam had ruffled hair, glassy eyes, and swollen, red lips that had a thin, almost unnoticeable layer of saliva – The prophet’s face turned a bright red instantly, and his cup of tea seemed to burn more against his hands. He quickly averted his eyes from both of their faces, his gaze returning to the large scar of Sam’s foot; the one scar he’d gotten from a plain, boring everyday thing.

“Jesus Christ, Sam,” Dean snarls softly, picking up the sheet he’d been stitching and wrapping it around Sam’s lower body, and then starts stitching it to the sheet that was tight around his torso,”You never stopped growing did you? Damn it, it was easier back then…”
 
Sam’s a deadweight in his arms, and he remembers the last time a cloth-swaddled bundle was pushed into his arms; his newborn brother. His arms are still shaking with the strain but he manages, balancing Sam’s wasted form on his lap. His free hand lacing the needle through the cloth, and looping around, again, again, and again. The weight of Sam’s head lolled against his shoulder. He hasn’t even registered the prophet’s presence.
 
The sheets bundled around the youngest Winchester’s corpse are speckled with crimson from still wet wounds, but Kevin doesn’t pay it any notice as he slowly inches closer. Dean turns to him just in time to see the prophet’s hand lift the still limp sheet to uncover Sam’s face. He vomited; one bleary look told him what he'd been eating last night, fruity, multi-colored cereal and lime-green jello apparently. Staggering away, Kevin kept his gaze off him, he couldn't bare to look his way, because if he saw the grotesque sight again he thought he might vomit a second time.
 
“Get out of here, Kevin,” Dean chokes out, his red-rimmed eyes hardened,”J-Just ge-e-get o-out…”
 
“No,” Kevin’s voice is a mere whimper, feeble and weak,”Please, just, tell me what happened… I deserve at least that. Sam –“
 
“Get out!” The hunter roars, slamming his fist onto the concrete below. The hard surface cracked, and there was a blossom of blood that quickly seeps into the imperfections. There is an emptiness in his eyes, a numbness consuming his nerves, and salty tears flow unchecked from his eyes, the shear nothingness that now took hold of his soul threatened to engulf him entirely. His legs buckled, knees sinking onto the concrete as he still gripped the corpse in his arms.
 
“…I can’t do this anymore,” Dean grits out, burying his face into the corner of the sheet,”I can’t live with the possibility that I have to carry on without him. Because I can’t fucking do it – I can die for him, but I can’t live for him…”
 
Kevin stays silent during the entire outburst, feeling like a paper man about to crumble. Moment by moment, his tears begin to fall, salty drops fall from his chin, drenching his shirt. His hands open and closed, rhythmically clenching as if there could be some violent solution to his pain if only he could find it. The silence of his crying was eerie, like he had been forced to learn how to do this. To mourn in a way that was not seen nor heard.
 
“…What are we doing with his body,” The prophet asks softly, trying to mask the tremble in his voice.
 
“Burying it,” The hunter replies gruffly. It’s blatantly obvious that he didn’t want to burn his baby brother’s body, that he was going to hold out ‘til the last minute that they could still bring him back somehow.
 
Dean laughs coldly, shaking his head. “You said you wanted to get out. This is your chance because I’m done, for good this time,” He tightens his arms around the mass in his arms,”There ain’t no me if there ain’t no him.”
 
“I’ll go when I’m ready,” The prophet responds.
 
So, two shovels and a mound of dirt later, there is a sizable hole just outside the bunker. Dean and Kevin sit in the war room, dirt and sweat heady in the air as the sip at two luke warm beers. Sam’s body is laying on his neatly made-up bed, in his darkened room because the hunter wants to wait for his angel friend to arrive. If this really is the end of the line, if there really is no way to bring his brother back, he is done, and this will be good-bye for everyone. Fuck any other world ending catastrophe.
 
“H-how did he...” Kevin wonders aloud, not sure how to approach the subject.

Dean answers coldly, the fingers clenched around the neck of his beer bottle trembling violently. “I-I don’t know...I guess he was out and something just got him,” He coughs, tries to push it down with another swig of beer,”He’d been gone a few hours, I’d been blowing up his phone, and when I went into his room...”

“Whoever did this just...”

“Put him there,” Dean nods stiffly, his face flushing red with pent up anger. Kevin quickly changes the subject,“…And Castiel, how is he handling all of this?”
 
“He doesn’t know.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

April 7, 2009
Frowning at the floor, Samuel slowly straightened and used the back of the sleeve on his forearm to wipe the residual blood from the corners of his mouth. Then his eyes laid on the multiple corpses littered throughout the room. The hunter gasps softly, his hand slapping over his mouth as he takes a stumbling step back, nearly tripping on a mangled body on the floor. At that, bile floods into his mouth and he falls hard onto his knees and heaves uncontrollably, shoving his ball fist against his mouth.“Did...did I do this,” Samuel questions aloud, his horror evident.“I left them here for you...a late-night snack, if you will,” Lucifer purrs pleasantly,” I believe it’s time we were properly introduced.”Samuel scoffs as he weakly lifts his head,” We’ve met far too many times for my liking...Lucifer.”“Ah, you...know me,” Lucifer inquires curiously, eyes scrutinizing the human before his eyebrows shoot up in realization. An easy smile pulls across his lips,” Ah, I see. You knew a version of me. That doesn’t surprise me. No matter the time, no matter the place we will always find one another. But that’s the reason I am here. Myself and every other carbon copy of me. Tell me, Sam...is he the reason that you fear your own face...?”“You’re in my head... You’ve already seen what he’s done,” Samuel says quietly his hazel hues softened by a sadness, a hurt that couldn’t be spoken,” Every single damn thing.”“Yes. I’ve seen it all, Sam. But I am not him. I am from an entirely different world, where I’ve been influenced by different events and characters,” The archangel professes, laying his hands over his chest, motioning to his vessel,” By you. I would never harm a single hair on your perfect little head.”“But you hate… despise humans.” The human didn’t know much about this version of Lucifer, but this is the one solid fact that transversed through every single version of him.“You’re the rare exception,” Lucifer responds honestly, his tone is soft, almost warm,” The diamond in the rough. And it will always be...you.”Sam spits out,” I’m not giving you a chance to trick me, to spew your lies. Let me go, now -““Oh,” The archangel chuckles in amusement, lifting one brow,” And why would I do that? ‘Spew my lies’ as you say?”“Because it’s what you do. You promise the world, but only present ashes,” The hunter chokes out defiantly,” You cannot do good, much less be good. So if you think I’m going to let you manipulate me... use me, you truly are a stupid son of a bitch.”Lucifer sighs aloud, telling him,” I am not your Lucifer, Sam. And I never claimed to be good, now did I? No,” He shakes his head, rustling his long hair,” No version of myself, no matter the story, can ever be truly and wholly good. Not really. I won’t deny that, but there is a small ounce of goodness deep within me...and that goodness rests solely with you.”“You are one and the same.”“Really? And what have I done that makes it so you draw this conclusion?”Samuel snaps,” I know that me drinking demon blood again was all apart of your little mysterious plan,” He points an accusing finger, lip curling,” I don’t know why...or what purpose it serves, but you made me do this. My brother, my family...you made me break a solemn promise I made to them many, many years ago. To never let that stuff touch my tongue again.”“No, I gave you a choice. I let you choose if you’d rather see your family die, or lose your sobriety chip.”The human grits his teeth tightly, and growls in a low voice,” You know that’s not a choice for me.”The archangel frowns deeply, uttering in a firm tone of voice,” Sam, when I explain things... you will see -““I don’t care!” Samuel growls scathingly,” Dean will save me. He won’t let you have me -“There was a burst of barking laughter as Lucifer exclaims, the thought entertaining him,” Dean? Your brother, Dean?““Dean will save me. He’s done it time and time again.”“Oh, has he? Sam, I know you as well as I know myself just from a mere plunge into your swirling memories. From what I’ve seen, Dean, like every single one of his counterparts has let you down, time and time again,” Lucifer states coldly, settling two fingers on his temple,” His name, the name of the angel he forced upon your comatose body, it was...Gadreel, yes? Tell me, how did it feel? To feel him deep within you, knowing you belonged to someone else. Your body, your very soul must have felt like it was trying to fight off a virus...But Dean could never understand that, now could he?”“No-” Samuel began, raising his voice before stopping himself,” You have no idea what you’re talking about. None,” He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair as he chokes out,” What do you want?”“What do I want…” Lucifer’s lips curl into the smallest of smiles as his eyelashes swoop down, blinking at the human,” Sam, I think that it’s rather obvious… given the circumstances.”“What do you want?” Samuel screams, his nostrils flaring as the fingers in his hair clench, nearly pulling the strands from his scalp.Lucifer’s voice is low and soft but powerful enough to send chills through Samuel’s body,” Sam I want to watch you fall from grace, just as I did. You and your other counterparts try and try so hard to be good, but none of you realize the freedom there is in letting go. In being what you are always meant to be...” He steps forward, reaching a hand towards the human and sliding his palm across his cheek,” And I see what your Lucifer did to you. I see inside your mind, my dear boy. The millennia spent inside that damned prison...”“What are you getting at, Lucifer,” Samuel hisses, stepping away from the extended hand, then wincing when he nearly steps on the hand of one of the bodies, “Just tell me what you want from me.”The archangel laughs softly at that, gently pulling his hand aside as he states plainly,” You’ve already given me all that I could want and more, Sam. You and your counterparts did just as I knew you all would,” He snaps his fingers and the lights in the room flickered, shutting off with a low hum, before abruptly blasting back on. The light reveals two of his counterparts standing on the opposite side of the room, their heads bowed,” You all fell.”———Dean turns to his counterpart who’s riding shotgun and voices his discomfort,” Okay, this is too weird, man. It’s one thing having a bunch of Sam’s running around, but one of me is plenty.”His counterpart snorts, crossing his arms over his chest,” You’re telling me, pal. It’s friggin’ confusing,” He points to himself as he continues with a deep frown,” We need some name tags or something!”Bobby rolls his eyes, stating aloud,” I don’t get why we have to do all this running around,” He turns to the angel crammed into the seat next to him, nudging him with his elbow,” Can’t you just flap those wings of yours?”“Unfortunately, I cannot fly,” Castiel answers with his gaze downcast,” Can you scoot your seat up -““No,” Older Dean snaps in agitation,” Besides, you don’t get to complain about being a flightless bird! Or have you forgotten whose fault that is - ?”“I do not need a constant reminder,” The angel grunts back.There’s a ruffling of feathers, then a body is squeezed in between the angel and the seasoned hunter in the backseat. “Hello,” The young man greets, giving an always wave.“Son of a bitch!” Dean screeches, slamming his foot on the brakes, making all the passengers of the vehicle go sniffing forward in their seats with a simultaneous grunt,” Alright - That’s it! Whoever just fuckin’ beamed into my backseat -““Wait, take it easy, Uncle Dean,” The young man exclaims, frantically waving his hands. Then his hazel hues flicker over to the man’s counterpart and he frowns,” Am I seeing double - Oh, shit! Did I accidentally bring more peeps over! Ugh, I was just trying to teleport -“The older version of Dean interjects with a horrified screech,” Uncle Dean? Wait - Did Sammy have a litter?”“My Sam,” Dean corrects, laying his head against the wheel as he groans aloud,” And luckily it’s just the one. He’s the one that caused this whole mess - ““Whoa, hold up - Who’s the mom?”“Wrong question,” Henry interjects with a forced smile.“Huh - Oh. Oh,” Dean’s counterpart says, surprised as he blinks stupidly. The older version of Dean inquires, both eyebrows raised curiously,” Lemme guess - The baby daddy is your version of Castiel?”Castiel sputters, a flush spreading to his cheeks,” Your brother and I have never been intimate -““I didn’t say you! I said their version - Wait? Why are you getting so defensive over - No! Cas you better not be bonding my little brother or so help me -““I wish. At least he’s not as big a douche,” Dean admits, grimacing,” Let’s take a look at door number three - The Trickster...Gabriel.”“What,” The other occupants of the vehicle screech in unison.Henry sighs aloud, propping his chin on the back of the driver’s side seat,” This is the dumbest conversation,” He scrunches up his face, before going on with an agitated huff,” Look, I actually came here for an important reason, Uncles...and Grandpa!”“Grandpa,” Bobby utters dumbly, but his eyes soften as he takes in the sight of the young man.The Nephilim huffs in annoyance, puffing out his cheeks,” Now, then...I believe we all have a case of missing Sam’s. And I know where they’ve all been rounded up,” He twirls his finger in the air then points it downward,” They’ve been taken to hell by the new de facto ruler.”“Friggin’ Lucifer,” Dean snarls, his lip curling in disgust.“Lucifer,” His older counterpart snaps abruptly,” You’ve gotta be kidding me! C’mon, man! I finally ice his ass and of course, he’s waiting around the corner in some other universe.”Castiel adds,” Technically Michael as you say ‘iced’ him. Though I don’t believe ice had anything to do with his demise -“Dean cuts in, pointing his thumb at the angel,” So he never gets better at speaking human, huh?”“Not in the slightest,” His counterpart replies dryly,” Well, what are we waiting for? I’ve got a brother to detox.”“I ain’t losing mine again. I’m tired of staying on the sidelines. Let’s go save his ass,” Dean replies in agreement, easing his foot off of the break,” Hey, kiddo, you got a way to help us bust into the joint?”“Unfortunately my powers aren’t exactly at full capacity yet. It took three nosebleeds and teleporting in front of a train just to get here,” Henry admits sheepishly as he purses his lips,” And Cassie can’t just fly us there, so...”The older version of Dean’s mouth is set in a hard line as he determines,” There is a spell we can use, but Sammy and Rowena were our resident witches. Seeing as they’re both otherwise preoccupied at the moment...”“Do you remember the incantation and the ingredients,” Bobby asks,” I can be a substitute witch in a bind.”“No, but...Rowena can,” Dean’s counterpart realizes, quickly fumbling through his pockets, before pulling out a small hex bag,” She didn’t want another repeat of Apocalypse World, so she gave us these so we could have a walkie-talkie between worlds. Er, I think the incantation was...vocationem in domum suam.”The hex bag abruptly lets out a small hiss as purple smoke billows from it, then a voice cries out,” About damn time, dearie! I was beginning to wonder if you and that pretty angel of your’s had gotten too comfortable,” She huffs in annoyance, going on,” I take you to need something from me? No one ever just wants to talk to me -““Rowena! Look, we needed the spell that you used to teleport into hell yesterday,” Dean’s counterpart barks out, tossing the smoking hex bag to Bobby,” Just give the instructions to him!”“Tch. You know honey catches flies better than vinegar, boy,” Rowena chuckles softly, adding bitingly,” Then again so does that mouth of yours...Very well. Only to get Samuel back, so I can have someone to talk to that isn’t a bag of rocks! Listen up, Robert...it’s quite the complicated spell, and this hex bag only lasts for a short while.”Bobby raises a brow, questioning aloud,” Robert?”“You’ll get used to it.”———Sam stiffly questions Lucifer,” That’s your endgame - To watch all of us stoop to your level?”Samuel growls,” You really aren’t any different. We’ve all faced Lucifer, one version or another...”Lucifer sighs aloud, motioning to all three versions of Sam gathered in the throne room,” Don’t any of you see,” He growls in irritation,” You have all fallen - You’ve become everything and more than what you were told you’d be from the very beginning! For far too long you three, all of your counterparts, have fought against your fates, your storyline...but you don’t have to fight anymore. Together, standing side by side as equals, we’ll tear up the script and turn against the one who made us this way! We will use the very darkness, the raw, brutal power forced upon us, to pave a new path for ourselves!”“No one makes us this way,” Samuel objects, his jaw clenching,” The demon blood in me...I’ve fought it too long and hard all of my life just to call it quits every time I fall off the wagon.”Sam nods in agreement, as he swiftly adds,” I took that darkness that resides inside of me and aligned to the light...I used my curse as a blessing,” He steps closer to the archangel, his eyes narrowed dangerously,” I saved my family and my friends - The whole world with the very thing everyone said would damn it! You say you’re here to free us, to make it so we don’t have to fight anymore...But you’re just saying that because you already lost your fight, didn’t you?”“What?” Lucifer snarls, taken aback as his lip curls.“I’ve finally figured it out. You weren’t lying when you said you were different from your counterparts,” Sam utters with a small smile,” It all makes sense now. Every angel that’s crossed your path has said the same thing, that your grace is off, tainted somehow, but not even they realized it...not right away. It’s because you’re not Lucifer at all. There’s a reason you feel so much like me...it’s because you are Sam Winchester.”

August 7th, 2014

In Another World

“You’re quiet,” Lucifer says at last,” Too quiet. I’m not used to being alone in here.”

There’s no reply.

“Sam - Sammy...c’mon,” Lucifer huffs in annoyance,” It’s not like either one of us has anyone else to talk to. It’s just us now. We’re...we’re all alone now. I’ll even settle for your usual nagging.”

Sam speaks lowly, his voice barely more than a croak in the back of his mind,” I was drowning.”
“What?”
“When...when you snapped his neck, I-I felt it...and - and I could feel his soul fleeing his body. It called to me,” Sam cries pathetically,” My brother, Dean, you killed him. You told me...you told me you’d never - You told me you’d never lie! It was the one thing that you ever did for me! You never lied...but you did...you killed him...! You took him and left me alone in the dark...!”
Lucifer blinks slowly, dragging his fingers across his temple as he states tiredly,” That’s what this is about? This temper tantrum is for...him? Sam - Sammy...sweet, soft Sammy,” He chuckles darkly, throwing his hands into the air,” Why do you cry for a man who only ever hated and feared you - For a fill-in who never even wanted you, not the real you! He just wanted the image of you he’d conjured up, this puppy-eyed idiot who rode shot-gun and indulged him. If he actually gave a shit about you, he would have fought for you!“
Sam snarls in reply,” Fuck you. Fuck you, you son of a bitch,” He cries harder,” Don’t you see - You’ve won! You got what you wanted! It’s gone, all of it, and it’s just us. You finally broke me.”

“...Sam, you knew what you were doing when you came to me all those years ago, abandoned, forgotten by your own brother. You knew what you were doing when you told me ‘yes’, and let me in.”

“I was trying to trick you - “

The archangel laughs coldly,” Maybe - At first...but then as you felt the two of us as one, true and whole, for the first time ever, you didn’t struggle, you didn’t fight. No, you gave in...you gave into me, Sam...You gave into us.”

Sam denied coldly,” No.”

“Sammy...If you don’t want to drown, you’ll need something to hold onto,” Lucifer tells him gently, almost kindly,” I’m all you have left in this world. Come away with me.”

The human laughs, choking out,” That’s because you destroyed the world - Even now, you can’t see it...You never had to do this. No one makes you do anything,” He snarls,” I wanted to run away with you...I did. I used to deny it, push it down, but you’re in my head...There’s no point in lying to myself anymore. Your father may have had a role in the beginning, when he slapped that mark on you...but the mark is long gone and you’re still the villain of this story.”

“You know so little -“
“Do I,” Sam snarls,” I know that you had a choice - You’ve always had a choice because nothing in this world is set in stone as so many like to think. That justification just makes it easier for things like you to stop fighting, but me...I’ll never stop fighting. Everything that you’ve done to my friends, my family...everything...it’s just a giant tempter tantrum because you lost!”
"I hope you’re not expecting me to apologize, Sam. I don't regret anything I've done,” Lucifer traces a finger over his arm, his voice low as he claims. His lips pull into an easy smile,” This thing between us, the going around and around without stopping, it’s making me dizzy. We don't have to be at odds anymore. We can fix this."

"You’ve said you’d change a hundred times before. You didn't if that state of the world around us is anything to by,” Sam answers, curt with disbelief,” You don't want to, Lucifer. You’ve never wanted to before. Tell me, what’s different now?”

The archangel gives a stubborn shake of his head and hisses,” Sam, we don't have anything pulling us apart now! There are no strings on us! No script to follow,” He parts his arms, motioning to the barren wasteland that surrounds them,” From this point forward it’s just you and me, buddy. I’ll burn every world after this one, so it’ll always just be you and me.”

“We both know that's the farthest thing from the truth,” The human scoffs.

“True. You’ve always had a nose for sniffing out my lies,” Lucifer compliments, the tone too sugary sweet,” You were made for me for a reason, Sammy.”

Sam‘s voice breaks as he states,” Like a cage is made to properly contain an animal."

“Aw, you don’t give yourself enough credit, Sam,” The archangel responds simpering,” I want you to come away with me. Run away like you always have, run to me, but this time, when you find me... stop trying to leave me. I would never make you feel alone, abandoned, like a toy that’s never played with. You would always be with me, I'd be right there like you want me to be - Like you’ve always wanted me to be. And I would give you anything, everything that you’ve always wanted -“

“Don’t," The human's voice wavers.
“There is no going back. Don’t you understand? You can't undo do this, and I'm not just going to move on,” The archangel declares, laughing,” If you had any control over this, you would have done something by now. You could have at least stopped me from snapping your brother’s neck - But you couldn’t.”
Sam spits out, his voice laced with venom,” You think that’ll make me stop fighting?”

“Sam. I know you love me. And I don't want to hurt you. We both know I can be so, so good to you, when you don’t force my hand,” Lucifer’s voice starts to shake with his boiling anger,” Why is it so hard to admit? That you want me? Need me even?”

“...I do. I do need you, just like you need me,” Sam admits softly,”...But I need my brother even more.”

Sam surges forward at once, managing to surprise Lucifer. The body the two of them were sharing jerked back, and his hand gripped at his heart as his body went into convulsions. Suddenly, his shoulders began throwing themselves forward and nearly shooting past his head as spit and vomit began to collect itself in the back of his throat. Gasping, Sam vomited on the dead grass that crunches beneath his knees.

“Sam, we both know you can’t hold me back for long. We’ve done this before,” Lucifer grits out from the back of his head.

Sam shakes his head, gritting his teeth as he slowly stands. “No,” He hisses defiantly,” I won’t let you control me any longer. This is my body and my world. You can’t have either...”

“Sam...Sam! Stop fighting me - This is my vessel! Mine! You were made for me -“

“Screw you,” The human barks back, wheezing weakly as he shakily brings one hand forward,” All this power that you’ve used to turn my world to ash, I’ll use to breathe new life into it. I’m done being your bitch.”

The archangel chuckles darkly, snarling to the human,” You may have seized control of the vessel, but you can’t bear my power - No mortal can,” He let’s out a low, easy breath as he continues,” You lose.”
“You know me better than that,” Sam grunts out as he shakily brings his fingers together,” I am no ordinary mortal.“
Snap.

The ashes piece back together, flowing across the air as they embark on a journey to their rightful places. The dead grass beneath them straightens, and a soft green hue seeps back into the blades. A burst of overwhelming light from the sun rains down on the dark sky above their heads, spreading its rays across the cloudy, azure atmosphere. It’s overwhelming to behold as the world around him blooms with forgotten light and warmth.

Sam wheezes going to his knees, and with his eyes closed, his head upwards towards the sky, he cries softly. Someone is in front of him, running their hands over his face, and gently brushing away his tears. He can hear their voice, calling his name, his fingers combing through his long mess of hair. He falls against his chest, his tears dribbling down his chest like hot oil as he struggles to breathe.

“Sam, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you,” Dean whispers into his ear, gripping his shirt tightly and gently softly pressing his lips on his head,” I'm not gonna leave you.”

“Y-y-you d-did...y-y-you...a-ab-abandoned m-m-me...” Sam grits out, before throwing his head to the ground with a sob. Slowly, soundlessly he lifts his head back up, his eyes flashing red for a brief moment,” You left him, Dean. And where did he run? Straight into my open arms.”

“Sammy? Are you in there,” Dean wonders aloud, vision blurring with poorly reigned in tears.

Lucifer laughs through his vessel’s dry, chapped lips, wheezing,” Oh, he’s in here, Dean. And he’s being torn apart from the inside out,” He chuckles weakly, coughing,” He’s a fighter, I’ll give him that. No mere human has ever been able to take the reigns from me. But his insides, his very mortal soul, are being broken down...piece by piece...until he’s nothing. Emptiness. If I can’t have him, wholly and truly as mine, no one will. Not even himself.”

Dean growls,” Let him go! It’s over - It’s over you son of a bitch!”

“As long as I still draw breath through your brother’s lungs, I’ll always be the victor,” Lucifer spits back before with a strained moan of pain, he slams his balled fist onto the ground beneath him. Sam’s voice trembles as he whimpers,” Dean...Dean...please - Gah! You have to...You have to get me somewhere warded and fast...Quickly, Dean!”

Dean nods stiffly, grabbing his brother by the back of his white suit jacket and dragging him upwards. He braces himself for the disease-ridden zombies as he basically drags his brother through the grassy area that leads to a small town up ahead, but he immediately knows that the world he’d come to know in the recent years is long gone. He stumbles back his fingers clenching on the cloth in his grip, gulping heavily, as a car rumbles past him on the asphalt road, and the driver shouts obscenities to him. His ears perk up at the low hum of the winding down small town and watches in awe as people casually walk
around him on the street, shooting him dirty looks when he doesn’t move.

“...Sammy, you did it. Y-You saved us,” Dean chokes out thickly, heaving his brother forward, who let’s out a weak wheeze,” C’mon, I can’t drag you all the way to Sioux Falls. You gotta chip in a little.”

“I’ve gotta...I’ve gotta g-go...”

Dean stubbornly spits out,” Don’t you even think of it! Not a damn second! You’re staying with me,” He‘s close to tears as he goes on,” I’ve gotta help you. I can’t...I don’t want to lose you again. Please...please...trust me...”

Sam inhales sharply. “I...Okay...”

Sam gives a stiff nod, and with a ruffle of feathers, they’re thrown onto the ground in front of an old, rusty metal sign that reads: Singer Salvage Yard. Then the seasoned hunter himself is stumbling down the stairs of his porch, his rickety door slamming shut behind him as he bolts across the yard. Bobby gives the pair a wide grin, wrapping his arms around them and he drags them close to his chest, murmuring against their clothes.

“Gotta break up the reunion, Bobby. Sammy’s in bad shape...he’s still strapped to a nuclear warhead. Your panic room still angel proofed?”

“It outta be,” Bobby confirms, slinging Sam’s other arm over his shoulder and assists in hauling him across the yard into the house,” But it ain’t gonna fit an archangel. Can you hold him back for a few minutes, kid?”

Sam grunts in acknowledgment, murmuring hoarsely,” Yeah...yeah...”

“Atta, boy,” The seasoned hunter responds, clapping his back.

Dean grits out softly,” There’s gotta be something we can do to him loose of that damn fork-tongued bastard!”

Bobby tells him honestly,” I don’t know, boy. This isn’t some monster-of-the-week. This is the stinkin’ devil himself. There ain’t even books to hit for this case,” Then he closes his eyes briefly, running his free hand over his face,” But we’ll find a way. Look at me, Dean. We will find a way.”

November 21, 2014

Dean pried open the door to the panic room, squinting his eyes and scrunching up his face at the ear-crushing squeal of metal. His forest green hues immediately flicker over to the hunched form in the corner of the room. The stark white scrubs are almost indiscernible from his younger brother’s sun-deprived skin. The paper bag in his grip crinkles as he takes a step forward, and he shoves the door shut behind him. Sam perks his head up, his gaunt features accentuated by the black and blue bruises that pepper his face.

“...D-Dean,” Sam murmurs, his voice coarse as sand.
“Sammy,” Dean breathes out,” You look like shit.”
Sam let’s out a dry laugh at that, more of a wheeze really. He leans his head back against the wall, tilting his head upwards as he informs him,” Lucy has been throwing a lot of temper tantrums. But instead of throwing his toys, he’s been throwing me...” He cocks his head, conceding to himself,” Though I guess I am his toy. A chew toy would be a more apt description.”

“Jesus,” Dean growls.

His younger brother sniffs, his glassy eyes flicking heavenward as he huffs out,”...Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what,” The older demands stiffly as he crosses the room and heavily sits on the cot,” Like an older brother who can’t stand watching his baby brother in pain?”
“Like a person who wishes they were burdened with something else,” Sam replies.

“Sammy... don’t,” Dean hisses in response hunching forward and placing his face in his hands,” Don’t do this again. No matter what you think or what you feel you’ve gotta remember that it ain’t real. It’s that sick son of a bitch in there juicing your grapefruit.”

The latter coughs, clenching his eyes shut as he groans out,” Sometimes, maybe. But I know what’s mine and what’s his, damn it...” He exhales deeply,” This has been a long time coming, and I think... I think you should go.”

Dean’s insides contract and go cold. He stood and staggered forward towards his brother, his mind swirling and his breath shallow. “What... No. No, Sammy,” He grits out,” You don’t mean that -“

“You sent me away,” Sam spat,” You sent me away like it was nothing. You left me to... to him. I was alone, helpless and you weren’t there when I needed you most! I want you gone...for good this time.”

Dean growls angrily. Sam just glares, his lips curled in a silent snarl,” Come on, Sam - You want to hear how I fucked up, right?! I know I did,” He pinches the crease of his nose, his breathing uneven and stuttering through his lips,” What should I do -“
“Stop it,” Sam snarls quietly,” Don’t you dare mock me just because you don’t have the balls to admit, to honestly admit, that you what you did was beyond fucked up.”
Dean glowers, responding coldly,” I’m trying to fix it - I am!”

”This isn’t something that can be fixed! Not with words, nothing! What’s done is done,” Sam grits his teeth, tilting his head at the latter,” You let me down in ways that I can’t even...you threw me to the fucking wolves! Me, your only brother! When all I wanted was to... it doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. All I want is to get away from you, as far away as I can...”

“Sammy? Sammy - Fight him! Damn it, fight him!”

Sam trails off his head swaying back and forth as his eyes go downcast the lids slouching. For a split, a wind his eyes flash a glaring scarlet red, but he jerks his head and his eyes return to their normal hazel hues. Dean with panicking breathes goes to crouch down in front of him and he grunts softly when he’s pulled close by the latter, his dry, cracked lips close enough to graze the outer shell of his ear.

“I-I a-a-am n-not th-the bro-bro-brother… y-you w-wanted,” Sam croaks out, and just voice sounds like a silent scream,” I-I could n-never be… Sammy.”

Their father had always said regrets were 'moral residue.' Like something hard to remove got stuck on you when you did something against your better judgment. Dean could never understand it even when he did something wrong himself, but now the residue seems impossible to remove, like an indelible stain on his cerebral cortex. Dean attempts to move towards the pitcher of water by the sink in the corner of the room, but long, spindly fingers curl around his wrist holding him in place.
“Sam, I….”
“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare try and deny it… You didn’t want me,” Sam’s cracked lips are trembling as he weakly wheezes,” You just wanted the image of me you’d conjured up, this puppy-eyed idiot who rode shot-gun and indulged you. If you actually gave a shit about me, you would have…." His hazel hued eyes are blinking rapidly, the sheen of tears reflecting in the white light above his head,” Even now...you’re just trying to fix me instead of accepting the fact that I’m broken. I’m not like that damn car, Dean! You can’t just take me apart and put me back together!”

Dean is blinking now, too, he can’t cry, not now. “Sam,” His voice is hoarse,” I tried, shit, I tried… I‘m trying to fucking help you!”

Ever since Dean came back from Hell, all those months before, if he's honest — he feels like he’s been mourning the brother that he knew, rather than trying to help the one that was still alive. Because the little boy that sang shitty songs with him on the open road with a dimply smile was long gone. The boy who would hold him in his arms, so tight and close, like he was the only thing that mattered in his world, gone. The one that would try to make the most out of every little thing. Gone.

And to his horror, something bubbles up from his baby brother’s lips, his shoulders shaking — a low, garbled sound. Laughter – Something that resembles laughter at least.

“All you've ever wanted is to have is this Sammy back, without any of the shit,” Sam whispers, the fingers that are scratching his arms are starting to draw blood,” But, that shit broke me, Dean. It broke me,” Dean closes his eyes, flinching,” Lucifer is still inside me...burning me from within until my soul is shrivels and crumples into ash. This can’t be fixed!”

A single tear cascaded down the hunter’s cheek, and it took all of his will power for that one tear not to turn into sobs. “I’m sorry,” He repeats it like a mantra,” I’m so sorry, Sammy. I never... I never wanted...”

This shadow, this shattered thing that was his brother paid no heed to his apologies. Instead, it continued,” I can’t be fixed. You have to accept that...that there is no way to mend what has been done. And you have to go,” His voice is soft now, almost pleading,” I’ve held him back for so long...and...and I don’t know how much longer I can. He’s changing me, Dean. Warping me and twisting me into something that you and I can’t even begin to comprehend.”

“There’s nothing that I won’t go through if it means saving you, Sammy,” Dean declares,” I don’t want you gone.”

“I do.”

Dean wondered that if he had looked closer if he could have seen the perfected mask of pretense crumbling down and raw emotions taking over. Maybe, if he had listened carefully, he could have heard the cries buried down deep beneath the fake laughs. It was fascinating how tragedy held the power to bring the unsurfaced into the light. How it unmasks the hidden so brightly.

“I want to die with every ounce of my being. I have for a long time,” Sam continued softly, and suddenly his eyes flashed a dangerous, bloody red.

Lucifer, not Sam now, smiled slowly, easily with his brother’s lips. He didn’t say a word, he didn’t need to. He’d already won. He’d preyed on his little brother and taken him like a thief in the night. His red eyes said it all,’I win.’

December 24, 2014

“You managed to stay away for a whole month. I should give you a medal,” Sam murmurs his milky skin luminous in the bright white light shining overhead. The underside of his eyes is sunken and purplish black. His lips are dry and cracked, and he licks them as if he feels his brother’s concerned eyes settled there.

Dean didn’t enter the room, choosing to simply glimpse in from in between the bars as he lowly states,” Bobby says you’re getting worse. You’re losing gaps of time,” He runs his fingers through his hair and stiffly informs him,” You’ve been able to hold control for how long this week? A day, maybe two? It ain’t gonna be long before...before... Fuck, Sammy, I’m losing you...and there’s nothing I can do - Not a thing.”
“There never was,” Sam reminds him, not turning to face him,” I’m losing myself to him, De. I-I feel like we’re getting tangled within each other. I can’t remember things, things I should know, like my own mother’s name. But I can see images, flashes really, of things that happened long ago and it...it feels like me. I sometimes remember slithering on my belly, flicking my tongue out to taste the air with a great tree in the distance. I remember...falling...”
Dean looks wounded as he gulps heavily, cutting in harshly,” Jesus, Sammy. So what’s that mean? That, that he’s...what...like absorbing your soul?”

“I guess so,” The younger brother answers softly, his once plump, pomegranate colored lips creasing into a tight line. His shoulders lift and fall limp as he settles his chin on his folded arms that are propped up on his knees.

“You don’t seem too concerned.”

“Observant, are we? That’s because I’m not. I should be, I know. But after all of this time, it’ll feel good to seek, instead of being found. To not be lost or broken.”

The older brother demands angrily,” What should I do? Damn it! Just tell me what I can do and I’ll do it!”

“I don’t think you want the answer to that question,” Sam replies simply.

“So that’s it? You’re just giving up,” Dean barks out, slamming his palm against the cold metal of the door to get his brother’s attention.

Sam doesn’t even jolt at the startling noise, but he does crane his head towards the latter. Tear streaks run down his face as he gives him a wet smile and says rawly,” I’m sorry. I am,” He chokes out,” I’ve tried...I have. But I don’t, I don’t think I can beat this one. And I’m cold, De. I’m so, so cold...“
Dean’s mouth twists and with a quick shake of his head, he wrenches the door open with an ear-piercing screech of metal. He’s on his knees in seconds, crouching in front of his little brother and cupping his sharp-featured face to hold it upright. The skin against his palms is frigid and he shivers. Sam blinks at him blearily and more tears trickle quietly down his cheeks. His lips part and a shaky breath escape him as he leans his head against the hands holding him in place, laying his face against his brother’s shoulder. The older brother ravels his arms around the latter’s chest, pulling him close as he closes his eyes tightly.
“I ain’t gonna lose you. And you ain’t giving up, okay? No matter what curveballs that son of a bitch throws you! You have to fight him tooth and nail,” Dean declares boldly as he pulls away from the embrace, staring straight into his brother’s eyes,” I’m gonna save you this time. I ain’t letting you down again. But you have to fight with me...If you want to throw your life away as some stupid-ass way of redemption there will be other opportunities, and I’ll probably join in with you. But here and now, both of us are fighting.”

“I don’t think I can, De. I-I’m just...just too tired. It hurts. It hurts so bad and I’m so cold and-and...” Sam stutters off and coughs weakly,” I don’t think I can ever fight again. Not for you, not for anyone.”

The older brother inhaled sharply and asks quietly, his voice grave,” When did it all fall apart? When did we get so -“

“Distant,” The younger brother finishes,” You...you did this, Dean. The day you turned your back on me and left me to him - but I’m to blame too. I could have said ‘no’, I could have tried to find you and begged for forgiveness. I could have done any number of things, but I didn’t. And neither did you. That leaves us with where we are and what we choose to do now.”

“It sounds like you’ve already decided.”

“I have,” Sam confirms, his lips trembling as his watery eyes flicker up to meet the latter’s,” I’m losing myself and there’s not a damn thing that you or anyone on this planet can do. It’s over...it’s over, Dean. It won’t be long now. I can feel him...”

Dean’s chin trembles as tears silently trek down his cheeks and he reaches a hand towards his brother, settling it on the side of his face. “Sammy...?”

Sam’s eyes close in content as the latter’s hand cups his face. “When I’m gone...you have to promise me, Dean. Promise me.”

“Promise? Promise what?”

“Promise me...promise that you won’t let him wander around in my body. That piece of me will be tangled within him to save. There will be nothing to salvage,” Sam informs him hoarsely as he begins to slouch, his backsliding downwards against the wall,” You can’t change him escaping from here. You have to...you have to...kill him. Kill us.”

Dean barks out immediately,” No. Not happening.”
“Dean-“
“You’ll still be in there. No matter how far gone you’ll seem, you will always be my baby brother. I’ve gotta protect you, save you -“

Sam whimpers,” I don’t want you to save me. I just want it over.”

April 7, 2009

Present World
“It’s so obvious now. Everything about you has felt off. From the way you walk to the way you talk. Even the very air around you feels wrong,” Samuel gasps out,” I know Lucifer. I spent a lifetime with him...and you’re not him. A part of you is, but a part of you is still human. Not the most stable or pure human, but good-intentioned. You don’t have to do this.”Soulless huffs out, his cold, stony eyes scrutinizing the group,” So what? He’s some kind of jacked-up hybrid of an archangel and a human?”“I don’t know,” Sam answers honestly,” I don’t even have any theories.”Lucifer utters coldly, his voice detached as his eyes dart away from the group,” You haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. None,” His fingers trail down his throat, then he digs a nail into the flesh at the crease there and white, glimmering streams of grace spill out,” Sam Winchester’s soul and Lucifer’s grace intertwined making me. I am neither of them, yet I am one and the same.”“Samifer,” Soulless scoffs humorously.