"I'm back!"
Sam knew the moment he stepped inside that the cabin was empty. Hunter instincts had long since taught him to listen out for the smallest sounds, and his immediate sense was that there was no life about.
"Lucifer?" He stepped inside, glancing into various rooms nonetheless. He looked down at the dog bed as he passed. "Lazarus?"
They must have gone out for a walk. Well, the dog needed exercise, and Lucifer liked nature, so that was good.
Shrugging it off, Sam busied himself with unpacking the groceries.
It was after three hours, once the sky was dark, that Sam began to worry. He searched the cabin once more, this time looking for any signs of a struggle, but found nothing. Wherever he'd gone, Lucifer had surely gone willingly, but why? And why hadn't he come back?
Sticking his knife in his jacket pocket, and his gun in his belt, Sam made his way out into the forest.
It was vast and thick, and surely something like looking for a needle in a haystack. But Sam's unease was growing, and he couldn't sit around and do nothing.
As he reached the edge of the trees, a sudden thought chilled him. Had Lucifer found his grace? Had he reclaimed it and gone off. To do what? Was he causing harm somewhere? What if he knew Sam had known where it was?
No, he told himself. He was being paranoid, surely. But even so, he set out on the path he remembered taking with Lazarus where they's stumbled across the rose bush.
It was harder in the dark, but pushing through the undergrowth, stumbling every so often on crooked roots and rocks, Sam found his way. Pushing some thick leaves aside, he stepped back into the clearing, and there was the rose bush, seeming to almost shine in the dark and still humming with angelic energy. Untouched. Unfound.
Sam hated himself for sighing in relief.
But where the hell was Lucifer? Had he decided he hated the cabin for its humanness and decided to camp out in the woods? Surely not. With his initial panic over, Sam didn't think he was being too presumptuous in now realising that if Lucifer were to go somewhere, he would want to take Sam with him.
From Cas he had experience in knowing that sometimes angels weren't the most aware of practicalities and common sense. Had Lucifer simply lost track of time? Perhaps he just had no sense of knowing he should return home when it was dark, or at least bothering to tell Sam where he had gone?
Sighing, Sam turned and began making his way back to where hopefully the main path was located.
He was starting to wish he'd brought a flashlight, but it certainly wasn't the first time he'd had to go off searching in the dark. The years of practice had give him pretty good night vision, and his other senses were plenty sharp as well, so though on guard nonetheless, Sam was confident he'd pick up on anything trying to sneak up on him.
The air was chilly now it was getting into the night. Wind whipped at the trees, shifting the shadows around him from where the moonlight filtered in between the branches. It would have been a spooky scene to the average person, but it took a lot to unsettle a Winchester, and Sam actually found the gloomy scenery surprisingly calming.
The pathway curved round a bend and headed uphill. Turning the corner, Sam frowned, spying something lumpy-looking across the path up ahead.
As he got closer, a sense of anxiety gripped him as the figure began to take shape. He tried to tell himself it wasn't, it was just some rocks or something, maybe even an animal, but as he approached, it became undeniable that it was a human body.
Sam stopped before it, feeling slightly sick as he looked down at the torn corpse. It could have been an animal, he told himself. Some bear or even a mountain lion roaming the forests. But Lucifer was also capable of this.
Drawing in a shaky breath, Sam was about to move on to investigate further when a scent wafted up to invade his senses from the torn body.
Sulfur. It was harder to make out amongst the disgusting smell of the already decomposing flesh, but it was there. Sulfur, definitely.
The body had been being possessed then. A demon. If Lucifer had done this- and Sam was now more certain he had- he had killed a demon. Not a person. An evil creature, not just some innocent stranger. Sam exhaled.
Stepping over the body, he headed a little way up the path, eyes widening as he found three more strewn figures, all in equally bloody states.
Demons had been here. Several of them. Had they attacked Lucifer? Was Lucifer strong enough to deal with them as he was? Sam's fear turned to worry.
"Lucifer?" he called, voice carrying on the icy wind, but receiving no answer. "Lucifer?!"
A faint, rough sound downhill to his right caught his attention. Sam whipped his head to the side, eyes narrowing in concentration. It came again. He knew the sound. It was a bark. Lazarus!
Sam instantly began scrambling his way down the hill, pushing through the thick shrubbery, shoving branches and leaves out of his way, ignoring the way they scratched at his skin.
The first thing he caught sight of was Lazarus' figure moving about behind the bushes, pacing back and forth as if purposefully trying to get his attention. Sam pushed his way through as the dog barked again, apparently pleased to see him, casting a brief glance at the sprawled and bloody figure of the last demon, before fixing his attention on the other being passed out on the floor.
"Lucifer?" He threw himself onto his knees at the archangel's side, grasping his shoulders and shaking him. "Lucifer? Lucifer?!"
He wasn't moving. His eyes were closed, clothes dirty as if there'd been a struggle, even a few bits caught in his messy blond hair.
Was this his fault? Had he completely drained himself from his missing grace? Had this fight worn him out beyond repair? Would he be fine if only Sam had shown him back to it? Was there was a point where an angel couldn't recover? What if it was too late? There were no scorched wing marks on the ground, but Lucifer had said too much of his grace was gone to fly. He still wasn't moving otherwise. He looked dead. No. No, it wasn't possible. Sam couldn't handle that.
"Lucifer!"
To Sam's utmost relief, Lucifer's face twitched, features scrunching up into a weak frown at the noise. "Sam?" he muttered.
"I'm here," Sam said quickly, voice breathless with relief. "I'm here. Are you okay?"
Finally, Lucifer's eyes opened, staring blearily up at him with faint recognition. "Sam," he said again. He swallowed, apparently wetting his throat to stop his voice from fading. "There were demons. Did they hurt you?"
"What? No. No, I'm fine." He eased an arm under Lucifer, pulling him up until he was sat upright. "What happened? I saw the bodies. Are you alright, Lucifer?"
"I'll be okay," Lucifer sighed. "It's mere exhaustion, Sammy. I've only got enough power to heal slowly. It just takes time."
"What were you doing out here in the first place?"
Lucifer looked away, hesitant in answering, before he sighed again. "I can't lie to you, Sam. I came to get demon blood, to get some of my strength back. I'm sorry. I know you don't like that."
Sam pursed his lips uneasily. No, he didn't like that. But he couldn't deny that Lucifer was at least being honest with him. Sighing, he draped the archangel's arm across his shoulders and hauled them both to their feet. "It's okay. Just no more, right? I mean... it's not like not having it will kill you?"
Lucifer shook his head. "No. I'm just... sick of feeling this weak."
Sam seemed on the verge of saying something, before he clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. "Let's get back. I'll take care of you, okay?"
Lucifer nodded, turning to sloppily brush his lips against Sam's cheek.
Arms round each other, they slowly began to make their way back. Lazarus trotted at their heels, alert and on guard, apparently ready to protect his masters against anything.
"They hurt the dog," Lucifer said after a while, glancing down at their companion.
Sam frowned, expression hardening. "The demons?"
Lucifer nodded. "I had to bring him back. That was what mostly drained my powers."
Sam reached down to affectionately stroke Lazarus' head. He had to admit, he would not have taken kindly to anyone harming their lovable pet either.
It took a good twenty minutes for them to stumble their way back. He kept his arm around Lucifer's waist the whole way, noting with concern that he could feel the chill of the archangel's skin even through his clothes. As they passed the path that led on the way to where Lucifer's grace was, Sam cast it a guilty look, glancing at Lucifer, but the archangel didn't seem to notice anything. He knew Lucifer had said he would be able to feel it nearby, but it seemed he'd overestimated that ability, or maybe the surrounding hum of forest life cloaked it. Sam didn't know.
Finally getting back to the cabin, Sam eased Lucifer down onto the sofa so he was lying across it.
"Can I do anything?" Sam asked, dropping to his knees beside the sofa so their heads were about level.
"Go get some blood from those demons and bring it back," Lucifer said, though he didn't sound completely serious.
Sam frowned.
Lucifer glanced over at him and smiled weakly. "Sorry," he muttered. "I know you don't like it."
"Do you really need it?" Sam asked.
Lucifer studied him for a few moments, seemingly noting all the little details of his face. Eventually, he sighed and shook his head. "No," he said. "Just, recovering will take longer. But I can cope. I just need to rest."
Sam seemed relieved, nodding slightly, before leaning in and kissing Lucifer's forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Don't," Lucifer said softly. "You know I don't like it either. No, this is good, Sam. You..." He trailed off briefly, seeming to contemplate his words. "I've resorted to such things in manic desperation in the past. So much of what I've done over the years, I've done merely because it was unfortunately necessary. But now..." A small smile touched his lips. "You are the most important thing to me. Keeping you safe is important. And as long as we're hidden away here, I don't need such things." He reached out, gently running his hand through Sam's hair and down to rest on his shoulder. "You keep me right, Sam. Sometimes I hardly ever feel like an angel anymore, but I do with you."
Sam smiled, eyes damp. "I love you," he said.
"I know, Sam. You don't have to keep saying it." Lucifer turned onto his side, shuffling right back against the sofa cushions and gesturing the space beside him.
Sam wiped his eyes, eagerly hopping up beside him. It was rather squished, but neither of them minded. They couldn't have been too close. So Sam nestled right up against Lucifer, grateful of every bit of contact he could get, and closed his eyes.
The early morning sun was just rising when Sam opened his eyes. They hadn't lit the fire before going to sleep, but Sam was unsure whether the stinging chill in the air was because of that or Lucifer. He still wore his jacket and, regardless, could feel the iciness of his angel through the fabric, though at least it reduced it to a dull chill. He lay his bare hand on Lucifer's cheek, wincing at the coldness.
Quietly slipping off of the sofa, careful not to wake Lucifer, Sam took off his shoes for him and gently maneuvered him out of his jacket. He found a large fleece blanket in the cupboard and draped it over him.
Leaving his angel to sleep, Sam headed over to his laptop.
Casting one last glance at Lucifer, he opened a web search engine and tapped in 'fallen angels'. It was unlikely there would be any certain answers, but he was an expert at picking out useful information amongst bogus lore.
There were various theories on falling angels being demons, but knowing that wasn't the case, Sam dismissed those right away. There was various stuff about sin and plenty of theology about Lucifer himself. It was all religious interpretation and fanciful ideas, mostly spawned in literature.
Sam changed the search to 'angel's grace' but that didn't return anything of much more use. It was all mostly bogus, and anything that wasn't he knew already.
Leaning back in his seat, Sam sighed, lips pursed as he stared at a screen of unhelpful information with frustration.
A sudden growl had Sam's head snapping up. "Lazarus?" He watched as the dog dashed over to the door, barking viciously. "Lazarus, what's wrong?"
The dog was nearly hit as the door flew open.
Sam scrambled to his feet. In the doorway was a young man he didn't recognise, dark hair, manic grin, black eyes. Sam grabbed up the demon-killing knife, narrowly avoiding a wave of psychic energy that attempted to throw him back against the wall.
Lazarus leapt at the creature. The demon was about to strike it, but the dog seemed to have learnt something from the last encounter and sprung out the way, giving Sam enough time to plunge the knife into its chest.
In the fumbling, hazy moment before he shoved the door closed, he saw more figures running towards them from the trees.
"Sam, what is it?" Lucifer, understandably awake, but struggling to stand, watched as Sam dashed to one of the kitchen cupboards where he'd been storing the supply of rock salt he'd bout for filling shotgun rounds.
Sam dropped to his knees by the door, hastily pouring white powder across the entranceway. Something slammed into the wood outside just as he was finished.
Despite his state, Lucifer grabbed a cup from the kitchen and filled it with salt to start on the windows.
Sam rammed his shoulder against the backdoor as something attempted to push it open, spreading salt across the threshold, spilling most of it in a haphazard mess but not caring. He left Lucifer to finish the windows down here, while he ran to secure the upstairs.
He could hear Lazarus still growling and barking below. When he came back down the stairs after salting each upstairs window, the dog was protectively pacing around Lucifer while the archangel was busy painting a complex devil's trap across the door with the spray paint Sam kept for that exact purpose.
Vaguely wondering why he hadn't thought of that, Sam grabbed another can and did the same on the backdoor.
Once finished, the two of them sort of paused where they were crouched on the floor, turning over their shoulders to look at each other. Sam smiled grimly, standing up and making his way over to Lucifer as the archangel tiredly rose to his feet.
"I should be protecting you," Lucifer muttered as Sam peaked out the front window.
"It's not your fault," Sam said softly, though his gaze was on the outside. His eyes widened as he found at least twenty-odd demons staring menacingly at the cabin. "What do they want? Do you think they know you're here?"
Before Lucifer could answer, one of the creature outside answered his question. "Come out, Sam Winchester!" It was a woman with brown hair. "It took us so long to find you! Don't keep us waiting."
"They just want me," Sam muttered. He sighed. "I suppose they think they've got me cornered without Dean."
Dean. A wave of guilt passed over Sam for having not even attempted to contact his brother for so long. He swallowed thickly, stepping back from the window and letting the curtain fall. Was Dean okay? Had these demons gotten him and had now come for Sam?
"I won't let them near you," Lucifer said, despite that he had one hand gripping a nearby tabletop just to keep himself upright.
Sam said nothing, casting another brief glance through the crack in the curtains.
There was one demon tugging at the door now. The others were circling the cabin, unnaturally strong hands thumping at the thick wood.
Lazarus growled, ears practically lying back flat on his head as he bared his teeth.
"We can't stay in here forever," Lucifer said. "They'll find a way in eventually, even if they have to use all their power to gradually wear away at the salt lines bit-by-bit."
"Then what do we do?" Sam asked, attempting not to let his voice shake and failing miserably.
"Sammy," a sing-song voice called from outside. It made goosebumps break out on Sam's skin. "Come out and play. You Winchesters are such fun."
Sam didn't respond. "How did they find me?" he asked Lucifer instead. "Why are they so determined to get me now?"
"I don't know," Lucifer muttered lowly.
Stepping forward again, Sam unlatched the window, pushing it open outwards ever so slightly without breaking the salt line. "Where's my brother?" he called out to the demons.
A couple of the demons appeared to exchange looks.
"Dead," one snapped.
Sam's blood ran cold. Hands slippery with sweat, he tugged the window shut, turning back into the room and almost falling.
"Sam." Lucifer grabbed hold of him, though he was barely able to keep upright himself. "They could be lying, Sam. Demons lie."
"I left him alone," Sam whispered. "It's my fault."
"Even if it's true," Lucifer insisted, "it's not. Your brother can defend himself. We don't know what's happened, Sam. We have to focus on us."
"Who cares?" Sam spat, eyes stinging with tears. "Just let them kill me."
"Don't say that," Lucifer hissed. "Sam, anything that wants to kill you will have to get through me first."
Sam's eyes slid to the side, slowly looking over the archangel. The tears clung to his lashes, slipping down his cheeks in slow tracks. "Luce, you're barely standing. What can we do? What does it even matter?"
"It would still take a lot for them to kill me," Lucifer said. "My power is low, but I'm no less immortal. I just can't fight back. We have to get away until I can."
Wiping his eyes, Sam cast the archangel a desperate look. "What are the odds that we can outrun them? Besides, I can't carry both of us."
"I don't expect you to," Lucifer said. "But we can't stay here. We can get away and then..." Lucifer paused. It seemed whatever it was, he didn't particularly want to say it, but the words came out for Sam's sake. "Then we can find your brother. Dead or alive. Once I have my grace again, I can bring him back for you."
Sam stared at him, wide-eyed. "You... Why would you do that?"
"I don't care for Dean," Lucifer said dryly, eyes narrowing slightly. "But I care for your happiness. Do you really think I want to see you unhappy, Sam?"
The words made Sam feel lightheaded. Even now, it seemed he had underestimated Lucifer's affections for him. The tears sprung fresh to his eyes. He didn't deserve to be loved this much. And he was lying to Lucifer. How could he lie to something that loved him this much? "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Sam, we don't have much time," Lucifer said, apparently brushing off his words as a mere emotional outburst from the stress of the situation. "Sam, I know how we can get away."
"How?"
"You have to trust me," Lucifer said. He reached one hand up and gently wiped Sam's tears. "I can keep you alive. I can keep you strong. But it'll be you that gets us away."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"Sam," Lucifer's voice was soft, almost reverent as he gently took hold of the hunter's face so Sam was looking at him. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes," Sam said. And honestly, now, as Lucifer's thumb gently stroked the side of his face, Sam knew he meant it.
"Do you love me?"
"Yes."
"And you know I'd never lie to you, and that I'd never trick you?"
"Yes."
Lucifer smiled softly, blue eyes tired but loving. "Then if we are to have any chance of getting away, I need you to say that word one more time."