John met his first angel at the age of 16. John had been in and out of the Men of Letters headquarters since he was 13. He wasn't being trained yet, but some event had happened his father was inducted, and so there was need to keep the legacies closer. John didn't mind. He liked spending his afternoons wrapped up in the more public library o the Men of Letters headquarters.
But occasionally the library wasn't enough. John liked slipping into the back rooms. He'd either never been caught, of the Men of Letters approved his sneaky habits. He'd only ever been nearly caught when he got into an area too deep in the headquarters. That didn't mean he wasn't still going to try.
There was a summoning area that John wanted to see. He tried to keep an eye out for anyone who might see, because he wanted time. Mostly he just strode back like he owned the place. Generally sneaking was a good way to draw attention and get caught. Blatancy, simply acting like he belonged was more likely to get him forgotten, especially now that he was getting older.
John just strode back, glancing around as furtively as he could to be certain that he wasn't being looked out. He'd snatched a key which he slipped into the lock and entered like he believed the key would work. Doors always had to be shut behind the Men of Letters incase over curious little boys like John got through them.
John smirked.
Really, the summoning room looked like any other room in the place, except that there was already someone in there. Now John frowned for real. He knew no one else was supposed to be there, especially not a kid. The kid couldn't have been more than 15, but probably liked 14 or something. The kid turned his head and John was sucker punched with the look of pale blue eyes. But it wasn't the eyes, it was how ancient they were.
"Were you summoned here?" John asked.
"Yes," the boy said. "And you?"
"Snuck in," John said a bit proudly. He'd done a good days work. Even if he got caught getting out it would be fine. The boy's lips twitched up a bit like it amused him. "So, are you…" John trailed off because he didn't know how to ask.
"An angel?" the boy asked. "Yes." John sucked in a breath. So much for acting nonchalant. That explained he ancient eyes.
"I didn't, I didn't know that angels possessed boys."
The boy looked down at his body. "I wouldn't call it possession. He had to say yes first. And there are only a few people who can be my vessel, same for any angel."
"What's his name?"
"Who?" the boy asked, looking up at John again.
"The kid you're wearing," John said, sort of vaguely gesturing to the body.
"Nicholas Campbell," the angel said.
"Campbell, the hunting family?" John asked.
"Vaguely related, third cousin," the angel said, looking at his hands. "He doesn't know about hunting, in any case."
"So… who are you then?" John asked.
The angel looked at him, holding his gaze for a long moment. John wondered if the angel was going to tell him or now. Finally the angel let out what could only be a sigh.
"My name is Samael."
John frowned why did the angel sound so sad about that? "So, Samael, you were summoned here, for what reason?"
"Is there was reason I should tell a sneak official Men of Letters business?" the angel asked. He was smirking though.
"Are you stuck here?" John asked.
"Vaguely," Samael said.
"Well then, Samael, what do you say we bust of here and get a soda?" John said with a wide grin.
Samael blinked at him, confused and uncertain, at least John thought that was what the blank look meant. "I've never had a… soda?" There really shouldn't have been a question mark at the end of the sentence, but Samael clearly wasn't even certain about the word.
"We have to go now!" John said. He walked over and grabbed Samael's hand. Samael looked confused before closing his hand into a tight grip on John's. John felt like telling Samael that men didn't hold hands like that, but Samael seemed a bit in awe at the contact, so John didn't tell him otherwise.
"Just follow my lead, act normal," John said. He didn't realize until he'd already led the angel outside of the room that he probably didn't even know how to act human, let alone normal. He didn't seem to even blink or breath in a normal human rhythm, like he only did it when he remembered. It was very obvious to John when he was so close to Samael.
John tightened his grip on Samael's hand, suddenly realizing that there was no way they were going to get out of there without being seen. John had given himself about a 70% chance that he'd make it out of there without being noticed on his own. Holding a kid's hand, a stranger, who'd come from the summoning room the chance dropped to 5%.
"John!" a sudden sharp voice said. "John Winchester."
"Run," John shouted at Samael. He took off running and with an all mighty tug dragged Samael along with him. Samael sort of stumbled, but quickly caught his foot and ran easily behind John, allowing John to lead because John knew where he was headed and Samael didn't.
John could hear shouts behind them and the sound of pounding feet. He didn't care. He ducked and weaved. A lot of the Men of Letters were older and while they knew spells they hardly would be able to register what he was doing except running until he was passed them. He'd already made it out of the restricted section.
"John, stop!" their doorman said. Suddenly the man froze and John jumped over him, being carried by the power of Samael's grace. The door slammed open and John ran full tilt out as the door slammed behind them. John didn't stop running, though. It was another duck and weave and he needed space between them and the Men of Letters.
When John did stop he has guided Samael through blocks of a dirty maze of streets. They'd stopped in a disgusting alley that the local bums liked to frequent, the guys John asked for war stories from in exchange for stories about monsters. He felt a little bad about taking Samael to this place, as it was not the first impression he wanted to give an angel about humanity. But the Men of Letters wouldn't look for them there. They were too refined to know it existed and they lose all the color in their faces if they saw John is a place that had so many black men.
John panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. His body was also trying to laugh which made it very hard for him to gulp air like he needed to. John glanced at Samael who looked very blank. He suddenly reached out his hand. John knew what it was for, and he tried to wave it off, but the angel had already touched him and healed his winded-ness.
"You didn't need to," John said, still bent part way over and still smiling.
"It seemed easier than watching you suffocate yourself."
John straightened up. "You're just a load of laughs, aren't you?"
"I would not think so," Samael said. He glanced back the way they'd come and John was absolutely certain that Samael knew exactly the way they'd come from. "Are you going to get into trouble?"
"Yeah, but I can't care," John said. He straightened his clothes and grinned at Samael. They'd let go of their clasped hands, which saved John the awkwardness of pulling away. "So? Soda?"
"I suppose," Samael said.
John started walking away, assuming Samael would follow. He didn't need look back to check. He could feel Samael's improper not breathing on his neck from how close Samael stood. John had to smile a little and walked a bit faster. He out right grinned when Samael picked up pace to keep the exact distance.
"You know, humans don't normally walk that close together," John said.
"Oh," Samael said. John turned, seeing Samael at a more appropriate distance. He was staring at John, but John ignored it until they got to the diner.
"Two standard fare," John said to the waitress before heading to his usual table. Gladys would roll her eyes like always, but she would also put in his order without coming by with menus or wasting time actually trying to wait on him.
"John?" Samael asked once they were seated. John noticed how Samael's eyes skittered around the room, taking in the décor.
"Yeah?" John asked.
"Are you really John Winchester?" Samael asked. John looked very confused. It would make sense if Samael heard about Henry Winchester, but not his son John who hadn't even been inducted yet.
"Yeah, why?" John asked. And suddenly his brain actually started to work. John leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. Samael leaned in, though he probably could hear it without having to do so. "So, do I have some kind of grand fate? Is that why you know me?"
"I don't know of your fate," Samael said in the same hushed tone. John glanced around, seeing that Samael had done the same. He wondered if Samael spoke softer for secrecy or because he thought that was what he was supposed to do, like John did.
"Then how do you know me?"
"Your line are vessels," Samael said.
John felt more than a little star struck. He wasn't certain how he felt about it, but John knew that vessels were necessary for angels, and one of the Men of Letters had told John a theory of vessels being descendants of nephilim. John could suddenly barely contain his excitement.
"Are all Men of Letters vessels?" John asked.
"Some are," Samael said. "But not many. Yours is, though. Every angel knows every possible vessel as we know every prophet."
John sat back, dumbstruck as Gladys brought their food over, just sandwiches and Coke. On automatic John poured a large amount of ketchup on his sandwich and started to eat it. John was vaguely paying attention when Samael did the same. He only actually exited his pensive mood when he heard coughing from the other side of the table. Angels didn't need to breath, so it hardly mattered if they swallowed wrong.
But John realized it wasn't food in the wrong tube that made Samael cough. It was the over abundance of ketchup that even John would call excessive. He'd probably put too much on his own, but Samael clearly misjudged. John had been eating but not really paying attention. He got his usual fare and even a bit too much ketchup hardly mattered to him.
John couldn't help himself, he started to laugh. And oh, the look Samael gave him just made it worse. Samael had a terrifying glare. But it was hard to terrified of a 14 year old with ketchup on his chin. John grabbed a napkin and leaned over, cleaning up Samael. John sort of wanted to take care of the kid.
"You don't need that much," John said. He pushed his sandwich over to Samael. He grabbed Samael and a fork and began to try and salvage what he could. He scraped off most of the excess condiment, but it was still in excess.
John glanced over to see Samael using his fork to do the same. John nearly scowled. He couldn't even try it in a normal manner, could he?
Samael took a bite and he seemed to really consider the taste as he chewed. John just watched him think. A few times John thought Samael genuinely hated the sandwich, but he kept eating. John finished off his meal before the glacial pace of Samael, but he didn't mention it. This was the first time Samael was trying this stuff and John didn't want to ruin that.
"Well?" John asked once Samael finished.
"Well," Samael said. "It was… odd. I'm not certain how I think of it. My vessel reacted to it. But it also seems petty and unnecessary, especially from me."
"Unnecessary as it might be in heaven, here it's necessary. People have to eat. The y also have to breath and blink like a normal person." If Samael had been human he would have flushed bright red. As it was, they wouldn't be in this situation if Saemal was human.
"And what, then do you propose I do?"
"Learn to act human, especially if you plan to stay here for longer than a week."
"I plan to be here for a very long time." John realized how straightforward Samael's tone was. He wondered if angels were all like that.
"Then it looks like it's up to me to teach you." John grinned at his brilliant idea.
Samael blinked skeptically. "Wouldn't one of the Men of Letters be more suited to the task?"
John snorted. "They might tell you they are, but they have no clue how to act like people, even my dad."
"I see," Samael said. "So, when do these lessons begin?"
"They did the first time I saw you," John said with an over dramatic wink. Samael didn't so much as blink. John had to tie down his disappointment. This would not be a guy who'd easily go along with his games… but that just meant that it would really be worth it when John could get finally get Samael to respond.
A/N: So this is based on a nice graphic set by mypapawinchester here: mypapawinchester tumblr com / post/47477625306/john-winchester-au-men-of-letters- my-father
Just to be clear, I generally dislike the idea of Samael being Lucifer's original name before he fell. That being said, Lucifer doesn't lie and he's not going to say he's Lucifer, so I needed something to work with. Plus, SPN seems to borrow heavily from Neil Gaiman anyway, so why not?
Also, this is eventual John Winchester/Mary Winchester/Lucifer, with John/Lucifer, Mary/Lucifer, and John/Mary earlier on. Also maybe (maybe) Dean/Castiel if it gets to that later point in the story, but who knows. Also, Henry Winchester gets to do things later!