A/N: This is the sequel to Hellbound Thoughts, basically a similar story but from Sam's POV. It takes place in season 7, when Sam's hallucination Lucifer all the time.

Hope you like it. Please review!

Disclaimer: I don't own SPN. I co-own Mary.

Hallucifercations of Grandeur

Forcing Sam to think about alternate universes is just more proof that Lucifer is a dick.

"Monster hunters…"

Sam looked down at the table, unable to meet his girlfriend's gaze, unable to get the image of her bleeding on the ceiling out of his mind. He nodded, unable to speak.

"Sam… you're—you guys are… friggin' monster hunters," Jess repeated, and Sam could feel her staring at him, practically ignoring the other "monster hunters" on either side of him. "And I just got attacked… by a monster?"

"Well… demon," Dean corrected uncomfortably, and Sam shot him a glare before nodding again.

Jess was taking this extremely well, considering. The only problem was that Sam didn't want her to take it well. He wanted her to scream at him and throw things, and maybe even cry—mostly because Jess got really cuddly when she cried—and at least then it would make sense, because she still had goddamn blood on her shirt, not to mention on the wall, and there was still sulfur every-freaking-where, and Dean still had gunpowder in his hair, and Mary still had that goddamn Colt in her hands! Sam still had no idea where she got it, to top it all off.

But, no. Jessica wasn't angry. She wasn't even sad. She just sounded… confused. And that just made Sam feel really friggin' guilty.

"When were you gonna tell me all this, Sam?" she asked, and Dean had the nerve to look at Mary and jerk his head towards the kitchen, and they would've both stood up to leave, but Sam grabbed their arms and held them in place.

He'd finally gotten up the courage to look his girlfriend in the eye, and his silence spoke volumes.

"You were going to tell me all this, weren't you?" Jess finally looked hurt, and Sam wasn't sure whether to be mad at himself or his dad for doing this to her in the long-run. Dean and Mary looked uncomfortable, but there was no way Sam was having this conversation alone.

"Knowing would've only put you in danger," he said softly, the first words out of his mouth since Mary fired the gun.

"Well, obviously not knowing put me in danger," Jess returned coldly, and Sam flinched and saw fire in his mind and he couldn't believe the nightmare had been so close to a reality.

He looked down again, and Mary put a hand on his arm and Dean patted his shoulder and Jessica sighed.

"I'm not mad at you, Sam." She sounded like she wasn't quite sure if she meant it or not, which really didn't help. "I get it… I think. But I'm not mad. How could I be? You saved my life."

"Actually, I saved your life," Mary cut in, and Sam was amazed she'd stayed quiet this long, but apparently this was not an issue she could let pass. "I saw the demon pushing you against a wall, I yelled at Dean to get off his ass and run faster, I shot the bastard in the heart with the magic gun. Sam had nothing to do with it."

Sam could tell Dean was trying not to laugh, and Jess was rolling her eyes, and Mary was gripping Sam's arm tighter and glaring at the rest of them, but none of it really mattered, as far as Sam was concerned.

The demon was dead. And yes, Sam had friggin' dreamed of him coming, and yes, there was still fire roaring in his mind, but none of that mattered either.

Because Jess was safe. His family was safe. For once, everything might just be okay.

"What the hell was that?" is Sam's first question as soon as the vision ends.

Lucifer is perching on a chair across the room, friggin' grinning at him like the little bitch he is, and Sam really wants to press on the wound on his hand and make him go away, except he also really wants to know what the hell just happened.

"I love alternate universes, don't you?" Lucifer says conversationally, and Sam wishes throwing something at him wouldn't just hurt the wall. "Most of your life's the same, except for a few marginal things. Your dead girlfriend's alive, you have a little sister, nothing major. But, man, it's a fun one."

Sam is confused, and he probably wouldn't be if he didn't just want to punch the Devil right now, but he does, so he is.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sam asks, and he's aware of how exhausted he sounds, but you can't exactly blame him because he hasn't slept in weeks, and his own brother thinks he's crazy—and he's probably right—and Sam just really isn't in the mood for this right now.

Lucifer. Friggin'. Laughs. "Come on, Sam. You're smarter than this! Think about it. In another world somewhere, you have two annoying siblings to deal with, but guess who never died! Jessica! Remember her? Jessica Moore, love of your life? Been a while since you've thought about her, eh? My bet is since before the whole Ruby thing, if you know what I mean."

Sam flinches because—frick—the Devil's right. It's been so damn long since he's thought about Jess, and so much has happened since he's had a reason to, and now he feels guilty because he used to really love her.

"Why would you show me that?" he asks, even though he doesn't really want to know the answer.

"Because it's fun!" Lucifer replies, grinning manically. "Watching you beat yourself up over 'what could have been.'" Sam glares and reaches for the cut on his hand, and Lucifer laughs.

"Oh, don't bother. I'm no where near done."

Sam had been at Stanford for six months, hadn't been in touch with his family for eight, and was trying to get a good night's sleep before his first midterm, when his phone rang.

"Hello?" he whispered loudly, half-asleep and half-worrying about waking up his roommate.

There was a pause on the other end, and Sam started to wonder if maybe he'd imagined the whole thing, but then a voice spoke—soft, hesitant, and familiar. "Ammy?"

Sam sat up in bed, immediately awake and listening. "Mary? What the hell are you doing? It's freaking…" Sam glanced at the alarm clock on the table next to him. "Three in the morning! What timezone are you guys in?"

"Same as you," Mary replied softly, sounding nervous. "We're down in Arizona."

Sam frowned, suddenly concerned. "Then what the hell are you doing? It's freaking three in the morning."

Mary paused again and Sam could hear her breathing in gasps like she did when she was scared—but not on a hunt, no, she never showed she was scared on a hunt, only when Sam was hurt or Dean was drunk or Dad was yelling and oh god what did they do to her when Sam wasn't there to help? But finally she spoke and his brave little girl her voice wasn't shaking. "Couldn't sleep. Bad dream."

Sam's heart clenched just as his fists did because Mary didn't have bad dreams. She freaking lived in a nightmare and she was fine—always fine—sleeping the best out of all of them. But now Sam was gone—he'd left her alone—and she was calling him at three in the morning cause she'd had a friggin' nightmare and she sounded freaking scared of him and what had he done?

"You guys in a motel?" he asked, trying to calm down, because he knew Mary and she wouldn't want to talk about the nightmare, just like she never wanted to talk about a hunt once it was over, she'd want to talk about pretty much anything else.

"Always," she replied and Sam had to keep her talking because this kid was a little chatterbox, so one-word answers were not a good sign.

"Two beds or three?" he continued.

It wasn't really a fair question, as motels didn't give you rooms with three beds, but the Winchesters didn't get two rooms—they usually didn't split up—so there was sometimes a cot that Mary slept on when Dad needed space, or Dean when he and Dad needed space, and Mary would share with Sam. But usually, it was two beds—Dad and Mary, Sam and Dean—when Dad actually bothered to come home that is (when he didn't, Sam split with Mary). Who knew what it was like now?

"Two." She didn't say more, which led to Sam's next question.

"You with Dad or Dean?"

Mary hesitated and Sam had a feeling she was gonna say more than one word this time, so he didn't break the silence.

"Dean," she finally replied. "Haven't been with John since you left—he said it was too much like the old days…"

Sam sighed because Dad you idiot, if it makes your daughter happy, you can screw the bad memories and suck it up, but Mary didn't seem to upset about it, so he didn't press.

"Whose phone you using?" he asked next because there was no way Dad's opinion on the subject of Mary getting a cell phone had changed since Sam left.

"Dean's," she told him. "Figured he'd be less mad if he found out."

Sam nodded, agreeing with her. "You still need me, or are you good?"

"Don't go," she begged almost immediately. "Please. Just a few more minutes."

"I'll be here as long as you need me," Sam promised. "But listen, I don't want you waking them up. Dad have the keys, or are they near you?"

Sam could hear them jingling as Mary picked them up. "I got 'em."

"Okay, go out and sit in the car, all right? That way if Dad wakes up, he'll be so mad that you took the keys he won't care you called me, and at least that one I can take the blame for."

Mary paused to think about that, and Sam smiled because that was one thing he loved about this kid and that Dad hated—she would never just follow an order. She'd have to think and make sure she agreed with it first.

"Yeah, okay," she finally said. "Don't leave."

"I'm not going anywhere," Sam assured her and he listened to the sounds of her moving through the phone—leaving the room in that quiet-loud way that only Mary could, so that it was audible but wouldn't wake Dad or Dean; making her way out to the Impala and stretching out across the backseat like a good little girl—front seat is for Dad and Dean only was an order even Mary didn't question—and finally she returned to the phone and suddenly sounded a hundred times less scared.

"What's college like?"

Sam grinned, sure Mary had been wondering that since the moment he left. "It's all right. Classes aren't too hard, roommate isn't too much of an asshole." Mary laughed at that, and it had been so long since Sam had heard her laugh. "I met a girl the other day," he continued without even realizing what he was doing. "She's in one of my classes."

"What's her name?" Mary asked, sounding fascinated.

Sam chuckled. "Uh, Jessica. We've got a mutual friend, he set us up at a party."

"She sounds pretty," Mary commented—and only Mary could measure a girl's attractiveness by her name.

"Yeah," Sam sighed. "Yeah, she's… she's beautiful."

Mary was quiet for a while after that, but it was a nice kind of quiet, and Sam almost felt like he was there with her, playing stupid games in the backseat of the car while Dad drove and Dean slept, daring each other to be quiet longer. He almost missed it…

"I should go," she said softly. "It's pretty late."

Sam nodded but didn't agree with her aloud because he didn't want her to go. But finally, he muttered, "Yeah. Yeah, I should get back to sleep too."

"Thanks, Ammy," she whispered and god, that nickname but it made him smile.

"Whenever you need me, kid," he promised. "I'm here."

Sam can't. He just can't right now, because what the hell, this girl isn't even freaking real—at least not in this universe—and yet it's like she's family and he wants her and she wouldn't think he's crazy for seeing Lucifer everywhere and why does she seem so real and familiar when he's only seen her twice?

And it's not even just that. Because he hasn't just seen her, he's lived with her—these visions are more than visions, he can see and think and feel and she's his little sister, not just some random girl who doesn't exist.

And then there's something else.

Because he's heard of her before, Dean's told him about her, Dean made her up.

She can't be real.

He opens his mouth to ask what's really going on, but Lucifer's grinning again. Damn.

"Am, are you mad at me?"

Sam looked up in surprise to see his not-so-little-any-more sister standing on the other side of the table, wringing her hands nervously, breathing heavy.

"Of course not, sport," he assured her hastily, trying to calm her down. "You just accomplished in one night what Dad failed to do over twenty years. Why would I be mad?"

Mary wouldn't meet his gaze, and Sam was afraid he was missing something. "I made you leave Jess," she whispered.

Sam sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. He should've expected this. "Look, kid…" He motioned toward the chair across from him and Mary sat down, finally looking up at him. "Mary, you and I both know I couldn't have stayed out of the hunt forever." Mary nodded. "I think Jess understood that too, once we explained everything to her. She knows we gotta find Dad, if just to tell him he's on a wild goose chase. But even after that… I just gotta keep going. Saving people. And Jess will be there when I need a break. Or maybe when I really, finally am done Okay?"

Mary nodded again and suddenly looked less scared. "Were you gonna marry her?"

"I think I still might," Sam admitted, laughing. "She's just gotta understand I won't be home all the time."

"When you are home, will you take me with you?"

Sam's heart skipped a beat, and he found himself grinning at his kid. "Of course, kid. I'm not leaving you again. Promise."

He reached over the table to ruffle her hair, and she stuck her tongue out at him, but she was smiling, looking as happy than he'd ever seen her.

"How is she real?" Sam asks as soon as he's surfaced back into the real world.

Lucifer seems to be getting bored of this, as he rolls his eyes.

"She can't be real," Sam continues, despite how much he wants her to be. "Dean made her up, when I was in Hell. He told me about it."

"Yeah, yeah, blah-de blah de-blah," Lucifer groans. "Look, your brother's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, all right? He only thinks he made her up."

"Then what really happened?" Sam asks hesitantly.

Lucifer laughs. "You think I'm gonna tell you?! Where's the fun?"

Suddenly, Sam's angry and he's screaming and pressing hard on his hand, and Lucifer's just grinning as he flickers out of view, but he disappears just as Dean bursts through the door.

"Sam, what's wrong?" he asks, his eyes darting around the room, looking for danger.

Sam's breathing heavily as he looks up at his brother, and there's only one thing he can think to say.

"Dean. She's real. Mary's real. I saw her, Dean."

THE END