A/N: A little drabble to ponder the peculiarity of 'angel-vision' and, apparently, my take on the outcome of 'Swan Song'.
Set presumably right upon Sam's resoulment in 'Appointment in Samarra', s.6 (no specific references to unaired episodes, though), alludes to events by the end of 'Swan Song', s5.
Disclaimer1: None of the characters, plot-points, inherent to the show, belong to me.
Disclaimer2: I don't claim any creative output, featuring the cognate title, either.
Eye of the beholder
The first thing Sam remembers is Lucifer. Not the gossamer outline behind the shimmering haze to intersect his awareness of before and after, Sam figures for the Wall, but while still inside him. Still one with him. Still peering through the slits of Sam's own eyes.
Sam remembers the vantage of foreign perspective. Remembers a moment of wonder if that was how Cas saw reality too, while still an angel. If that was how all angels did. Not the angles, curves and dents of flesh, solid matter, but patterns of colors and waves, light and darkness. The nondescript splatter of desperation and loss all around curving Lucifer's borrowed lips into a contemptuous smirk.
Sam remembers Lucifer looking down upon the world he was about to wipe clean of life and hope, but never quite seeing. Not really. Not until Dean barged into Stull Cemetery, front and center, challenging Lucifer to look harder. To double take. Love and courage blazing so bright within his brother, Sam remembers the Devil squint.
Rage and jealousy were instant to soar, Sam remembers that too. The loveliest of angels once, Lucifer would not tolerate the most abominous of all hairless apes to dare surpass him in visage. The neediest of angels once, Lucifer would not concede to a loyalty so unreserved, issued to his human understudy, Lucifer himself was forfeited by his big brother. The weakest of angels once, Lucifer would not fathom the math behind the fortitude of Dean's glory increasing, as his body was destroyed by the very hand Lucifer needed Dean to hate, to ever truly win. Sam remembers grasping his opening there and then, as Lucifer gaped in dumbfounded awe before landing the final blow.
And just like that, it was the other way around. Sam remembers Lucifer suffocate in the flood of emotion and memory, forced to look through Sam's eyes, for a change. Forced to appreciate. Forced to crumble and writhe, humbled.
The first thing Sam remembers to feel now is blindness. The frigid gloom of looking at and past but never pausing to see. To perceive. Like he did for half a year, by his brother's side.
The last thing Sam remembers truly longing is the first one he does. Dean's embrace is as fierce as Sam's own, once his brother returns the hug. The intent to never let go as clear.
The first thing Sam remembers to breathe out is the name of his salvation...
