Thank you so much to everyone supporting this story, and a special thanks to those reviewing!

- bagelcat1: I've been trying to incorporate more introspection in the chapters, especially this one after everything Lucifer revealed. Please let me know if I did alright, and if not, I always welcome advice.

- Jaddis: Good guess. :D

- The Demigod Gryffindor: Your wish isn't weird at all, and it'll soon be granted. :D

Language warning for this chapter for a one-time use of the s-word.

I do not own Supernatural.

One second Sam stared at Bobby, steel in his gaze, the next he stared down the barrel of a gun. Slowly, his gaze moved up to find - John Winchester? Sam blinked, hardly believing his luck. He hadn't known if Lucifer's stint in his body had put a stop to the whole time travel thing, so he'd been prepared to settle for the next best person, but here he was. Fantastic. Widening his eyes, Sam pleaded, "Dad, it's me! It's Sam!"

This new Sam looked… different somehow, Dean thought. Possessed by Lucifer, he had stood at his entire height, shoulders straightened, not that slouching shit the other Sams had done in an attempt to look smaller and less threatening. This Sam didn't hunch down either, and his eyes screamed a confidence Dean had rarely seen in his little brother - and never in the time traveling ones, who always seemed to appear at either an emotional or physical negative moment in the future. This Sam also looked… buffer was the only word that fit. Like he'd been working out a lot and eating more than those salads he was so fond of. This Sam was different than the Sam Dean knew, but Lucifer had never even bothered pretending to be Sam. "Sammy?" he asked cautiously, standing slowly from the crouch his dad had forced him into.

"Careful, Dean," John warned, eyes and gun still locked on his future son - possibly his future son. Two of the nine Sams to come back so far hadn't been Sam. Twenty-two percent chance of being possessed wasn't exactly good odds.

"Dad?" Sammy whispered, and John felt his son's small hand - so different from the big and scarred ones he would one day have - grip his pant leg. Some part of him was grateful that at least one of his sons continued to obey him and stay down and covered, another screamed in anger at how his usually rebellious son acted after the last visit, and the third part understood where this childish attitude came from - if he'd learned his brother went to Hell for him, his father died, and he allowed himself to be possessed by Lucifer himself in a matter of minutes, he would want to be grounded by touch, too.

"It's ok, Sammy," John whispered, aching to turn and gather his children in his arms, but he couldn't - not until he was sure the danger was gone. "Sam," he called out, addressing the future figure standing still in front of them. "Christo." There was no flash of black eyes. "Dean, take the gun." His eldest did he as he ordered, flinching as he held a gun on his brother - and then Sammy transferred his hold to Dean's pant leg, realizing that his father needed to move, and Dean's back straightened at the reminder of his younger, vulnerable brother behind him. John moved to the bedside table and the Bible that all motels kept in its drawers. It hurt demons, and he had to hope it would hurt the devil too, if it still possessed his son.

Sam watched his father come closer and closer, Bible in hand, and when he stood before him Sam placed his hand over the cross in the center of the cover. Nothing happened, and his father turned to Dean and nodded. Sighing in relief - at what, Sam wasn't entirely sure - his past brother clicked the safety on and placed the gun on the bed. He crouched down, presumably to talk to Sammy, and Sam - Sam took what he saw as his best chance and moved.

John had begun to turn back to his future son when he caught the glint of something in the corner of his eye. Never more thankful for his reflexes, his arm blocked the knife stroke as he snarled "Lucifer" and leapt back, making sure to keep himself between Not-Sam and his children.

Lucifer followed him, knife in hand, and said, "Oh, I'm not Lucifer. No, he's been gone for some time now. I'm your Sam, whether you like it or not." This brought John to a stumbling halt, while Dean cursed and pulled Sammy to his feet.

"Don't hurt them," the eldest Winchester warned, not daring to even glance back and make sure his children were safe.

"Don't worry about them, I just need to kill you," Sam assured.

"Why are you doing this?" Sammy snarled, the sight before him flooding him with adrenalin and anger - at the future Sam, at Lucifer, at himself. He glanced at the gun Dean had abandoned on the bed, almost within reach, and the other Sam tutted.

"I wouldn't, unless you want me to kill your brother too. I didn't plan on it, but as long as I leave you alive, well… everything should turn out fine."

"Why do you want to kill Dad?" Dean snarled, eerily like his brother.

Future Sam shrugged, beginning to get impatient with all the talking but figuring there was no harm in doing it for a little longer. "I need to commit patricide to keep my soul from ever being reunited with me. It's the only way to stop the chance permanently."

"You're soulless?" John asked, obviously shocked.

"That's what happens when an angel only manages to pull your body from the Cage after you wrestle Lucifer back in," Sam nodded. "But you're dead in the future, so I was gonna kill Bobby and hope that worked, but then I appeared here and, well… better the real thing and guaranteed success, right?"

John blinked, unsure what hurt worse - the fact both his sons would one day go to Hell, that his son was soulless and trying to kill him in a huge escalation of their fights, or that he'd apparently been so absent from his sons lives that there was a chance killing Bobby would count as patricide.

Soulless Sam, fed up once and for all with the talking, lunged for his father, who sidestepped and whirled his future son around so he didn't come close to his younger self and brother. They both readied themselves for another attack - and then Soulless Sam disappeared. John sighed in relief, hoped that Bobby and Future Dean could figure out a way to reunite Sam and his soul, and grunted as he felt small hands circle his waist. Turning around, he swept both his sons up in a hug. Whatever the horrors the future showed them, John was thankful for one thing - they brought his present family closer together.

Sam looked around, startled, as John was replaced by Bobby. Plan A would have to do.

I hope you all enjoyed, and please review!