A/N:

A prompt I received from a friend for Samifer Week 2012. I've gotten into the new show Revolution and I often flail at Tess while I watch it. She likes the 'verse so she asked if I could do a SPN/Revolution crossover fic for Samifer Week. Here are the results.

Searching for Home

It wasn't the throbbing pain in his head or the musty smell in the air that woke Sam. It wasn't screaming or crying for help. It wasn't people dying around him as the Militia came and took more than the people could give that had Sam's eyes flying open. It was the lack of all those things. What woke Sam was the silence, the peace of wherever it was that he found himself.

It was the panic of being in a strange place that had Sam stumbling to his feet. He glanced around wildly, noticing that he had been stripped of all of his weapons. He was dressed in clean clothes and several of his wounds had been treated. And, even ten years after the Blackout, Sam reached for his cell phone to call Dean. His chest clenched painfully at his remembered lonesomeness. He hadn't seen or heard from Dean in nearly three years.

It never got any easier.

He would dwell, get lost in memories and the crushing weight that was the loss of his brother, but Sam was in danger and Dean had taught him well before they'd be separated. Sam scanned the small room he found himself in. It was mostly brick and cinder blocks that made up the walls. The floor was dirt, trampled and packed in so it was as hard as any floor. The ceiling was wooden and half covered in cobwebs. There were three torches lit around the room, hanging off the walls, the flames casting shadows about the dank room. There was a small table tucked in the corner with three chairs sitting around it, a dresser that had seen much better days, and the bed Sam had woken up on. It was a large bed and a few years ago it might have been extremely comfortable.

Sam relaxed slightly as he realized he was alone for the moment. If he was careful he might even be able to get away. He spotted a single door and weighed his options. Either way someone was going to come back for him, he might as well try and get away and maybe succeed rather than lay back and wait for whoever it was that had kidnapped him to return.

He gave the room a quick once over in search of a weapon, careful of the gash on his side and still tender shoulder. He came up empty and an uneasiness settled itself in the pit of his stomach. He'd had several knives and daggers on him before he'd gotten knocked out in the fight. He should have bowed out, a deer carcass just wasn't worth the position he now found himself in.

As quietly as he could he pushed open the door and peered down the narrow hallway. It was built the same as the room, dirt floor, brick walls, wooden ceiling. Everything was pitch black though, no torches on the wall to light Sam's way. He turned around and pulled one of the torches on the wall free from its holdings and started down the hall. The light was dim in the heavy darkness. Sam figured he must be underground somewhere for there to be no light. Doors lined the hallway. Most looked like they hadn't been touched in years, grime and mildew built up on the surfaces to obscure whatever writings or designs were on them. There were a few, however, that looked as if they'd been used recently. And Sam tried to quietly hurry passed them.

Sam walked on for what seemed like hours but had to have been only a handful of minutes, creeping and stopping to listen in case he was to pass anyone. The hallway was wide enough to allow three or four people to stand side-by-side comfortably, but there was no way Sam would be able to go unnoticed if someone approached him.

It was another eternity (or maybe just a few minutes, Sam wasn't sure anymore) when he reached a fork in the tunnel. He paused and considered the three separate paths. He had no idea if they would lead him deeper into the ground of if they would bring him back outside. But before he could choose a hand shot out and grabbed the arm that was holding the torch.

Sam screamed and spun to hit whoever it was that had grabbed him, but his shoulder gave a painful lurch and he faltered in his attack.

"You shouldn't be out of bed, Sam," came a voice, deep and calm and smooth. Sam could have sworn he'd heard the voice somewhere before.

He looked over at the man who was holding his arm and felt his eyes widen in shock. It had been over ten years but Lucifer still looked so much the same. His face had weathered with the stress of life and age, his once smooth cheeks were now covered in a light scruff and Sam could see a few scars littering his face and what he could see of his body. Lucifer's once neatly combed hair was now wild and flyaway, fluffed up and sticking out in all directions and Sam could almost smile at what he would have acted like all those years ago if he saw himself now. Lucifer's eyes, though, hadn't changed one bit. They still had that defiant fire set in them. They were icy blue and sharp as the wind on a winter day. There was anything but defeat in those eyes and, for some reason, that calmed Sam down.

"Lucifer?" he asked. Sam was sure he had the right guy, but he had to check. "Is that you?"

When that cocky, lopsided smirk flashed its way across his face Sam had no doubt who this was. Lucifer was still the same guy he'd known in high school. Defiant, strong willed, and stubborn. Back before the Blackout Lucifer had caused a lot of trouble at school. He'd had a reputation for being unruly and mean and his strange name hadn't helped at all. Everyone had said he'd been involved in drugs of some sort, but Sam had never believed it. Lucifer was brilliant. They had had conversations before – debates on everything from the best way to cook a certain food to what the meaning of life was. Sam knew Lucifer was intelligent and clever.

"Who else would I be?" he said, smirk still on his face. He looked Sam up and down, eyes focused and the longer he looked the more his face slid into an unhappy scowl. "You need to be back in bed. Some of your wounds have reopened, Sammy."

Sam felt his eye twitch at the nickname and something that he'd buried away when he'd been separated from Dean prickled at the reminder. "Don't call me that," he snapped and pulled his arm away. "What are you even doing this for? Where am I?"

For a brief moment Sam thought he saw hurt in Lucifer's features and felt a pang on guilt for it. But it was gone as fast as it came and Lucifer was grabbing Sam's arm again and hauling him back down the tunnel. Sam wretched back, determined to leave. He knew Lucifer could be stubborn but so could Sam. It would just be a battle of wills. Except where Sam still had wounds, fresh and painful, all over his body, Lucifer seemed to be in perfect health. He was over powering Sam and in an admittedly desperate and foolish attempt to get away Sam turned and tried to duck under his arm.

A sharp pain, like a white-hot sword stabbing into his side, shot over his bandaged torso. Sam hissed and curled forward, clutching his side. Above him he heard Lucifer's voice, but couldn't make out what he was saying through the pain. He felt an arm wrap around him and could hear the low murmur of Lucifer's voice before he blacked out.

—-

Sam woke to a wet cloth running against his side, gentle and mindful of his wounds. Most of his body was covered in scratchy blanket, it was folded down to uncover his side and Lucifer was seated beside him. Sam blinked over at him at watched for a few minutes as the other man cleaned his wound and dressed it. Lucifer noticed almost immediately that Sam was awake, but didn't say anything to him. Sam was still and followed the silent prompts for him to move and sit up. He helped Lucifer dress his wounds and waited until he had everything packed away again before he spoke.

"Why are you doing this?"

Lucifer looked over at him. "Because you need it. I knew those men, they're monsters. They wouldn't have killed you quickly." There was something clipped in Lucifer's tone. "Anyway, you need to stay in bed until you're healed. Once you're back to normal you can do as you please."

Sam sighed, after taking a proper look at himself he knew he wouldn't last long outside. He grudgingly agreed to stay with Lucifer until he was better.

As it turned out they were indeed underground. The hidden fortress was home to about ten others. Sam hadn't met all of them. They seemed to respect Lucifer well enough, but also gave him a wide berth. After a week Sam had only met three of them. There had been Lilith at first, a striking blonde woman who seemed fierce and intimidating. Then there had been Meg, a woman with curly, black hair and a devilish grin and far too much energy. Ruby was the last one Sam had met. She oozed snark and from what Sam had heard of her conversations with Lucifer, she was quite the conniving tactician.

Sam shared a room (and a bed) with Lucifer. He'd offered to let Lucifer move him to another room, but Lucifer had insisted he needed to keep an eye on Sam and Sam had let it drop. Lucifer would come and go, never spending more than an hour or two away from Sam. After a few days, when Sam was feeling better, he even showed him around. He made sure Sam knew how to get away in case of emergencies and that it was okay to wander around so long as he was careful about his injuries. He'd lie next to Sam at night and for a while they were silent, not a word said between them. But after a while Sam started to talk to him and Lucifer would talk back.

Lucifer told him about getting separated from his family. He told Sam he'd watched some of them die in the first few years – starving or bloody or even by their own hands. Sam remembered how big Lucifer's family had been, how close they all were. Lucifer told him about losing track of Michael only four years after the Blackout. How he had searched for years for his brother, but had found nothing. Lucifer told him how lonely he was, having nothing from his old life to bring him comfort. Lucifer told him that he only held on because he still believed Michael was alive out there and he would not be the one to tear them apart forever.

Sam told him about losing Dean. He told Lucifer that the last he'd head from Dean he had found Lucifer's cousin, Castiel, and that he was going to find him and bring them all back together. He told him that had been three years ago. Sam told Lucifer about how hard he'd tried to find Dean, how much hope he'd lost and how the only reason he thought Dean was still alive was his need to keep going. He knew that when Dean died Sam would feel it and would die along with him.

They spoke about the past. They revisited old arguments and spoke about how their thoughts and views had changed. Lucifer told Sam how impressed he'd been with him when they were younger. That he'd been surprised when someone his own age could carry a conversation with him, let alone someone four years his junior like Sam was. Sam told him how he idolized Lucifer when they were younger, how he'd wanted to be so passionate and free with what he cared about and loved, just like him.

They argued their new thoughts and feeling. Theories and hypotheses. They spoke about what they missed and what they didn't. Night after night they slipped into conversation that would spiral on for hours until they nodded off mid-sentence. Lucifer was a warm presence in the bed. Being underground, the air was chillier and Sam found himself snuggling up to the other man more than once. After almost two weeks he stopped trying to be sneaky about it an indulged in the other's body warmth. Since then Lucifer had opened his arms and allowed Sam to burrow in close, the pair of them warming each other.

They both had nightmares. Sam would thrash and wake with a scream. He come to himself pinned down by a distressed looking Lucifer and covered in a cold sweat. Lucifer was silent and still. He'd tense and tremble and, on the worse nights, he'd let the tiniest whimper slip by in his sleep. It always sounded suspiciously like Michael. Sam would free himself from the loop of Lucifer's arms and pull him inside his own. Sam would whisper words of comfort into Lucifer's hair until the shaking stopped and Lucifer was relaxed again.

It was a month into Sam's stay (the gash on his side almost nothing more than an ugly scar, his shoulder back to normal) when they were in their room and Sam glanced up when he'd managed to startle a laugh from Lucifer. The pure and simple joy on the other man's face stole Sam's breath. He'd never seen Lucifer look so happy or carefree even if for only a moment. Blue eyes were a light with mirth and a wide, uncharacteristic smile was splitting his face. The tenor of his laugher rolled from him in a low rumble.

Before Sam could talk himself out of it he leaned forward and stole a kiss. It was just the press of lips on lips, childish almost in its simplicity, but it sent a flash of heat through Sam. He pulled back, just enough to make eye contact with Lucifer, as he searched for something. Some sort of response – anger? Confusion? Acceptance? Pity? Sam wasn't sure which option frightened him the most. What he got as an answer was the frantic press of lips on his again, one hand on the back of his neck to hold him in place and another fisted in the front of his shirt.

Sam found himself straddling Lucifer's lap, the pair of them kissing each other like there was nothing left in the world to do. Sam ran his hands through Lucifer's wild hair, pressed his whole body closer to the other man. Sam could feel Lucifer getting hard against him and he pulled himself away, stood, and grabbed Lucifer. He pulled them over to the bed, let Lucifer crawl over his body, he let his lips and teeth mark a trail from his hips to the chest to his throat. Lucifer kissed through Sam's shirt, fingers hardly daring to wander underneath it. He bit Sam's nipples, sucked them through the thin fabric.

Lucifer looked up at him when Sam called his name, voice thin and breathless. Still crouched over him Lucifer asked, voice level, "May I undress you?"

"For fuck's sake, yes!" Sam arched his back to punctuate his point. He was thankful when Lucifer took no time at all in stripping them both. The second their clothing hit the floor Lucifer was back on him, mouth and hands everywhere at once.

He would stop every now and again and ask for Sam's permission to do something, like leave a mark on his hip or if he could bite the insides of Sam's wrists, or if he could kiss Sam's neck. Every time Sam would say yes, wrecked and hoarse with arousal.

"Sam," Lucifer said, lips brushing against the hip bone he'd been marking with a large, red bruise. "I'd like to suck your cock."

Sam was so close, mind clouded and body singing. He grabbed a fistful of Lucifer's hair, tugging as gently as he could. "Yes," he hissed and he guided Lucifer's head down to his cock.

Lucifer didn't ease into anything. He took more than half of Sam's length into his mouth on the first go, taking in more and more on each bob down until he was deep throating Sam, his nose nudging the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. Sam watched him the entire time. Lucifer was in control as Sam clutched helplessly to his hair. He wet heat of Lucifer's mouth was amazing. The man was obscenely talented with his tongue, too.

Before long all higher thought processes were lost to Sam as his mind zeroed in on Lucifer's head bobbing between his legs and the wet-suck-slide of Lucifer's mouth on his cock. Lucifer's name repeated itself in Sam's mind like a record and his voice gasped it out like a prayer. At some point Sam had closed his eyes and when he reopened them and looked down at Lucifer he saw the other man, lips still stretched around his dick, pumping his own arousal. Blue eyes flicked up at him and Sam a strangled "Lucifer I-" before he came down the older man's throat.

Apparently, that's what did it for Lucifer. It was only a few more strokes before Lucifer was coming into his own hand, Sam's cock still in his mouth. He pulled off his mouth, making sure to let the suction create a filthy pop noise as he released the head. Smirking, Lucifer moved up Sam's body and kissed him, the taste of Sam's come still fresh on his tongue. When he pulled away Lucifer considered his hand, and the mess that was on it, before peering around for something to wipe it on.

Slightly put out that he hadn't been the one to get Lucifer off Sam grabbed his wrist and licked at his semen-covered hand, lapping up the driblets of come, taking each finger into his mouth and sucking gently, teeth grazing his knuckles, until Lucifer's hand was covered in nothing but Sam's saliva. Once he was done he leaned forward and kissed Lucifer once more.

—-

After three months Sam was healthy and growing restless. He knew he had no chance of finding Dean. He had no leads, not direction to head in. Nothing but his gut telling him Dean was even still alive. So, he began to help with the hunting. In his stay a handful more people had come to stay with them. Sam got to meet more of the people who had been with Lucifer since he had found their little hole in the ground. There was Crowley, a man who, despite being at least two heads shorter than Sam, was as intimidating as Lilith and as cunning as Ruby. There was a young boy named Jesse, an orphan who seemed to have taken a rather strong liking to Lucifer and had refused to go anywhere the man wasn't. Adam was a spunky young man of twenty and the best shot in the group with a bow. Eve was a quiet woman with a fierce mother-hen streak and God help you if you didn't follow her orders when it came to taking care of that cough or wearing too few layers.

At four months they all started to feel like family and Sam could almost believe he could stay there. Four months and two weeks and the rest of the camp found out about Sam and Lucifer's relationship. Four months two weeks and three days and they stopped trying to hide their PDA from everyone. They wondered why it had taken them so long to use their affection for each other to disgust and get revenge on everyone else.

It was at six months that Sam woke in the middle of the night to the warning bells. Raiders had found them. He wasn't sure if it was Militia or just a pack of desperate people. Either way, they were in trouble. They had children in the camp and raiders of any sort could be ruthless and beyond cruel. He and Lucifer bolted from their bed, pants and shirts pulled on as they moved quickly through the tunnels. Lucifer had his sword and Sam was already strapping a pair of daggers to his waist when they reached the surface. Sam stood ready to fight – kill even – when his world narrowed to one face in the small group of bandits.

Dean was there, eyes hard and a sword clenched in his hand. He looked tired and defeated. He was still muscled and thick, but something about him seemed hallow and it broke Sam's heart. Beside him was a man, scruffy and slightly smaller than Dean with a warrior's look in his ocean blue eyes. There were other faces Sam didn't recognize but he couldn't think on them. Dean was right there. He's brother was here.

Ignoring everything happening around him he called out. "Dean! Dean over here!" Sam ran through the fighting, little more than shows of strength, no one willing to draw first blood just yet. He spared a thought that of course Dean would find the one group of bandits with a moral code.

Dean froze, green eyes comically wide once he saw who it was calling for him. Without looking away from Sam he shouted orders to his comrades. "Hold it! Stop everything!" everyone halted, eyes turning to look at the pair of brothers.

When they reached each other they hugged, hands grasping and arms squeezing as if they could just erase the past three and a half years with physical touch. Another commotion erupted not far from them, but Sam couldn't care right now. He had his brother back and nothing else was worth his thoughts at the moment. Nothing else matter outside of the protective embrace of Dean.

"What happened to you? I waited! I thought you had died, Dean!"

Dean was shaking. "I'm sorry man. I found Cas and he had family with him. And then Militia came by and… just everything fell apart. We were on the run for a year. I couldn't come find you and drag you into that."

Sam's brain flicked back on. Family. Castiel had family and that family was Lucifer's family. Sam pulled away and, without much trouble, found Lucifer in a similar embrace with a dark haired man that had to be Michael. They were so wrapped up in finally finding each other again they didn't seem to know or care that everyone was looking at them now.

It took a while for everything to settle down and even longer for all of the weapons to be put away. But eventually Lucifer's people went back to their daily tasks and Sam and Lucifer spoke with Dean and Michael about their small group.

It turned out that, out of their group of seven, three more of the people were Lucifer's family. There was Castiel's older sister Anna and older brother Balthazar, and Lucifer and Michael's younger brother Gabriel. There was also a fidgety man named Chuck and Sam marveled at how this man had survived for so long after the Blackout. All of them were welcomed in to the settlement and they all set about cleaning out rooms that had been unused in years. It took less than a week for everyone to get settled.

It took two for Sam to not panic whenever Dean was out of sight.

After another month Sam realized Dean was spending an awful lot of time around Castiel. And that there was a lot of touching and gazing longingly going on. For a moment Sam worried for the survival of the human race. But then he would watch as Gabriel or Balthazar and sometimes even Crowley all flirted shamelessly with everyone. And he figured it'd take about a year for someone to announce another tiny addition to the community.

When Dean found out about Sam and Lucifer (it took him three days) he had taken Lucifer aside at some point and given him the "Big Brother Talk" and Sam would have found that hilarious if Michael hadn't done the exact same thing to him.

Michael could be a terrifying man under the right circumstances.

So it wasn't long before Lucifer and Sam were back in their bed together, laying on top of each other after some rather enthusiastic sex. Lucifer placed a kiss on Sam's forehead and asked him "Are you going to stay?"

Warm and happy and sleepy Sam just curled around Lucifer and hummed before murmuring a soft "Yes" against Lucifer's skin. They fell asleep thinking that maybe the Blackout wasn't as awful as they might have thought.