.-.-.-.Lucifer.-.-.-.

Summary:

After millennia of evil deeds, a fallen angel is given a second chance and is reborn as a mortal. 28 years later and he's gotten himself into a spot of bother. Spoilers throughout Season 1 & 2 and this is ending up AU.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or anything associated with the show.

Right then, let's get down to business. Thank you everyone for reading this – your support and encouragement means so much and well… it's encouraging. I have a laptop now to continue my writing in 'other' places besides my bedroom… hope that works out – it's really just an excuse to lie down in bed and still be able to go on my computer.

I am officially staying clear of any spoilers for a couple of months – last spoiler I heard nearly sent me into a panic attack so I'm using one of Freud's defence mechanisms and I'm blocking it out.

And in even bigger news – I worked in yet another Dean shower scene… (For those who have no idea what I'm talking it about – I'm making it my goal for my stories to include at least one Dean shower scene.)

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Please Allow Me To Introduce Myself…

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"Missouri?" Sam ventured, finally letting up on his brother just enough for Dean to pull himself into a seated position.

"I'll make us something proper to eat. You boys get cleaned up, okay? There's a shower in the bathroom and some clean towels in the closet." She sighed and turned away, "I want you downstairs in an hour."

Silence fell as she left the room and both brothers continued to stare at the spot she'd been standing in. After a few moments Sam titled his head to look at Dean, whose gaze was focused on the floor in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak but saw Dean tense. What could he say? He had no idea what was going on so how was he supposed to comfort Dean? Was he supposed to say 'it's alright' even though he knew it wasn't?

He closed his eyes and braced himself, speaking gently, treading carefully, "Dean…"

"Don't Sam." Was all Dean said before pulling himself up from the bed. He swayed for a mere second but righted himself before Sam even had he chance to react.

"We don't know what she meant." Sam whispered.

Dean ignored Sam, acted like he hadn't heard him, "I think I'm gonna take a shower."

And he really felt like he needed one. He felt filthy… he felt contaminated. Ashlyn had seen something inside his dream and whatever it was… it was bad… he knew it was bad. And it was inside him…

"I'll grab a bag from the car…" Sam sighed, knowing that though there was nothing he could say, he could at least get some clean clothes out for his brother.

Sam watched as his brother left the room, listening to Dean opening what sounded like two doors before finding the bathroom and closing the door behind him with a loud click. Sam sighed and stood up, peering down the hall at the closed bathroom door where he heard mild shuffling as he exited the room and wandered back down the stairs.

He paused when he reached the front door, gazing back up the stairs. He was surprised when Missouri gently coughed and he turned to look at her, "What's going on here Missouri?"

"You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you." She sighed, "Don't mean I won't try. You have to promise to keep your eye on him Sam – there's gonna be a hell of a lot of trouble. This is some seriously ferocious fire we're playing with now."

"Can't we just…" Sam started but Missouri shook her head.

"No simple way out of this." She glanced up the stairs, "Now go get your bags. There's a fold up bed in the attic, you can bring it down and set it up in the spare room with the other bed."

Sam nodded and reached for the front door, fingering the Impala keys that he'd taken from Dean earlier.

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He leaned back against the bathroom door once he'd closed it, taking one long deep breath before pushing himself away and moving towards the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed red from lack of proper sleep and his skin was paler that a woman in white's dress. He had a gentle smear of browning blood just beneath his nose and he snorted in disgust, wiping the flaky dried on bits away to leave a red tint on his skin.

With aching muscles, he pulled his shirt up and over his head, discarding it like the restricting piece of cloth that it was. He stared at himself in the mirror once more and grimaced as he thought he saw the flicker of bruises littering his skin. He reached up to his neck, lifting it up to see it better, just like with the bruises, he thought he saw the flicker of scratch marks but when his hand gingerly touched the sore skin, they just vanished.

"I'm losing my mind… seeing things." Dean sighed, steadying himself against the sink basin.

He took one more deep breath then turned and reached over to turn the shower on, waiting until a steady stream of steaming water shot out, covers his arms in droplets of warmth. He nodded in approval and gently unfastened the buttons on his jeans, dropping them to the floor and kicking them over to his shirt. He tugged gently at his watch and tossed it onto the pile before tugging his boxers down and throwing them on top.

He hissed softly as the water washed over his skin, trying to cleanse him of something that wasn't even on the outside but the hiss turned to a hum as he tried to forget about the pain flowing through him. What he really needed was a good night sleep without fits and without being rudely awakened.

"Please allow me to introduce myself…" He sang gently, rolling his head under the water, directing it down his back, "I'm a man of wealth and taste."

He made it all the way to the third chorus, singing slightly louder with forgotten bliss, "Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name, oh yeah…", before he heard a gentle rapping at the door and heard Sam telling him to leave some hot water for him. Dean shot back a muffled reply and turned the shower off, finishing the lines he was singing, "…but what's puzzling you - is the nature of my game.", and grabbing a towel from the closet near the door. He dried himself down quickly before wrapping it around his waist. He grabbed a second towel and was on rubbing his hair as he exited the bathroom, feeling more relaxed then when he had first gone in.

"All yours." He muttered, sliding back into the spare room where Sam was pulling some clean clothes out from a bag.

"You feeling better?" Sam asked, looking up and glad to see the colour slowly finding it's way back to his brother's skin.

Dean nodded and pulled on a pair of boxers, "I'm fine Sammy."

Sam nodded too, knowing that, even though that was the answer Dean always gave, this time it was at least partly genuine but that didn't stop the worry, "I'm gonna jump in the shower – you did leave some hot water right?"

"Yeah…" Dean replied, pulling a shirt on and laid down on the bed, resting his eyes for just a minute.

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It wasn't long before Sam was locking the bathroom door behind himself and was taking in the scene in front of him. His brother had barely even been in the shower and yet both the mirror and window were fogged up. Sam sighed and shook his head, eyes landing on the pile of clothes Dean had left on the floor.

"First things first." He muttered, really wishing he didn't have to touch his brother's boxers…

He pocketed Dean's watch, making a mental note to hand it back to his brother and he folded the jeans neatly. Did Dean actually not know how to clean up after himself or did he just delight in letting Sam do it? Sam took a deep breath, trying to remind himself that something was up with Dean and it wasn't his fault… but that didn't explain all the others times.

He reached down for the item of clothing; Dean's scruffy crumpled up shirt. He lifted it up and looked at in disgust… but his look of disgust changed to a frown and then to worry. He turned the shirt over in his hands and wondered how the hell he'd missed it before… There were four steady parallel red lines down the back… Blood. Dean had been bleeding. Sam held the shirt closer, his fingers tracing the lines… judging by the distance between each line, the bleeding was due to a claw mark. But how the hell had Dean managed to get a claw mark and why the hell had Sam not noticed anything before?

"Dean…" He whispered and without really thinking, his legs were moving back towards the bedroom, shirt held loosely at his side.

"That was quick." Dean said, without even opening his eyes.

"What's this?" Sam demanded, ignoring Dean's remark.

Dean opened one eye and looked at the shirt Sam was waving about in front of him, "That's my shirt Sammy boy – doesn't take a genius to work that one out."

Sam growled… he actually growled. He opened the shirt up and turned it over, showing Dean the four lines on the back of it, "I'm talking about this."

"What the hell?" Dean pulled himself up from his nice comfortable position, both eyes wide open and alert, staring and the blood stained shirt, "What did you do to my shirt Sam?"

"Me? I did nothing. I was cleaning up your mess and I found it like this." Sam continued staring at Dean and when Dean frowned in reply he hissed out a low breath and moved closer to the bed, "Turn around and lift up your shirt."

"What?"

"Now Dean!"

Dean bared his teeth but did as Sam asked, turning so his back was to Sam and lifting his shirt just enough to show perfectly clean and perfectly intact skin.

"What the…?" Sam questioned, reaching out and touching Dean's back, trying his best to find the scars that should be there.

"You done perving?" Dean asked, though he didn't wait for a reply before he pulled his shirt back down and span round to face Sam, eyes glaring.

"Dean… this is pretty flesh blood. Probably an hour old at the most… so how the hell did it get on your shirt… you're not even bleeding."

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed his shirt of Sam, staring at the marks. A lump formed in his throat and he tried his best to swallow it. It couldn't be possible right? It had just been a dream… dreams couldn't actually physically harm you. You don't fall over and get a bloody knee in a dream and then wake up with one, you don't fall out of a tree and break your arm and wake up screaming because your arm actually need a pot now and you don't get clawed in the back by some shadow thing and wake up bleeding. Things like that just weren't normal… weren't right.

"Sam… I…" Dean started, "In the dream I…"

And that was all Sam needed to know. This recurring dream of Deans had to go… and it seemed the only way they could put an end to it was to figure it out. Good thing a certain psychic busying herself about downstairs knew more than she was letting on – the only thing now was to convince her to tell them.

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A/N – The song Dean was singing in the shower is called 'Sympathy for the Devil' by Rolling Stones (there are also numerous cover versions) and well… I saw it in my playlist and thought what the hell… Hope your still enjoying. :D