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AN: Thanks to SandraEngstrom2, AjPeanuts, and Kazluvsbooks for pre-reading!
Stairway to Heaven — Chapter Twenty-one
They are prepared if not ready. The Colt is tucked into the back of Dean's pants, and Castiel is armed with his bottle of holy oil. There is nothing else to do but leave. Unfortunately, Bobby has other ideas
"C'mon, Bobby," Dean says. "I don't want my picture taken."
"That's hard luck," Bobby says. "I need something to remember your sorry asses by."
Castiel nods serenely. "He's right. We go to hunt the Devil. Today is our last day on earth."
"Well, gee, Cas, way to bring the mood down," Dean says.
"Shut up and smile," Bobby says, wheeling himself back into the camera's viewfinder.
Dean grits his teeth, Castiel watches Dean, and Bobby smiles. The camera flashes and the picture is taken.
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Bobby says, picking up his camera.
Dean shoulders his duffel and downs the last of his glass of whiskey. "We'll see you later, Bobby."
"I sure hope so," Bobby says.
Dean stops with a hand on the door. "Listen to me, we'll be back, and we'll have Sam with us. No one is dying tonight."
"When did you become an optimist?" Castiel asks curiously.
"This isn't optimism, Cas, it's fact. We're icing Lucifer and getting Sam back today."
Bobby nods. "I believe you. Now, go get him."
Dean's hand turns on the door and Bobby calls out to Dean once more. "And, Dean, go easy on him, okay?"
Dean raises his eyebrows. "Satan?"
"No, you nitwit, your brother. I know you're not happy about what you've read, but remember he's been through a lot."
Dean has never needed Bobby's advice less. He isn't remotely happy about what he's read lately, but he understands it's not Sam's fault. He's got some kind of Devil induced Stockholm syndrome. They just need to get him away from Lucifer, and he'll be fine again.
"Don't worry. Bobby. I'll take care of him."
They go out to the car, and Castiel climbs into the passenger seat, Sam's seat. Though no one has questioned it, Dean said they would drive across to Michigan. His reasoning is simple, for all his words to Bobby and Castiel, he knows there is a very real risk one or both of them may not be making the return journey, and he wants one last ride in the Impala before they go.
Dean flicks the radio on and the familiar strains of Metallica come through the speakers. It's familiar and comforting, and home, except there is something wrong. His eyes slide sideways to see Castiel and he recognizes that there is still something missing, someone. Consoling himself with the fact they are on their way to rescue Sam now, Dean turns the key and the engine rumbles to life. He pulls out of the garage and winds his way through the stacks of junkers. As they pull out onto the road, he presses the horn once to signal to Bobby that they are on their way.
xXx
Sam lies on the bed and stares up at the clean, white ceiling. He almost wishes for the old motel with its familiar water stain. Things were easier then, when his captor was the Devil and the enemy. Now, things are all so confusing. He has seen the other side to Lucifer, and he cares about him. That was okay until Lucifer decided to announce that he was in love with Sam and mess it all up.
Why did he have to declare himself? Things were good before that. Now Sam is confused, and the worst part is that he has lost his friend. Lucifer is back in the hotel, Sam has heard him talking to the demons, but he hasn't come to Sam, and Sam is too ashamed of himself to pray to him.
He should have said something to Lucifer. He shouldn't have let it go like that. Lucifer had laid himself bare, and all Sam had been able to do was to gape at him.
There is a knock at the door, and he lurches to his feet and swings it open, hoping to see Lucifer. It's a demon standing on the other side, though, and she is bearing a covered plate.
"What's that?" Sam asks.
"Your dinner," the demon says.
"Thanks, but I'm not hungry." Sam starts to close the door, but the demon puts her foot in the way.
"Lucifer would like you to eat this."
"Lucifer can come tell me that himself," Sam says.
The demon rolls her eyes. "The time for long walks to the diner with Lucifer is over, Winchester. You need to learn your place. You are a prisoner, and that's all you are."
Sam forcibly pushes her away, knocking the tray to the floor, and slams the door shut.
He throws himself back down on the bed, and his thoughts drift to Dean. What is he thinking now? And Bobby and Cas... and Chuck? How exactly do Chuck's prophecies work? Can he tell what Sam is thinking and feeling? Does he know, do they all know that Sam is falling for the Devil? Because Sam is very afraid that's what's happening. He knows he cares for Lucifer, but it feels like something more, something that scares him.
Sam's hands come up to tangle in his hair, and his fingers tug at the strands. When did everything get so complicated? He would give almost anything to be back at Bobby's right now, with him and Dean and Castiel. If he was there, he would be plotting to fight Lucifer, and things would be normal again.
He pushes himself to a sitting position and leans back against the headboard. He needs to speak to Lucifer. If they could just talk, maybe Sam could make sense of things again.
"Lucifer," he says hesitantly. "I need to talk to you."
He waits, but there is no fluttering sound and no second presence in the room.
"Lucifer, please. I'm sorry for what happened. You need to let me explain."
There is nothing. Lucifer isn't coming. Sam groans. What is he supposed to do if the angel won't even talk to him?
Irritation surges through him. If the demon is acting on Lucifer's orders, that means Sam is apparently going back to being a prisoner. Screw that. If Lucifer wants to be his captor again, he can come and do it. Sam isn't taking orders from demons.
He gets up from the bed and shoves his feet into his boots. Grabbing his jacket, he flings open the door and strides out onto the hall. No one stops him as he marches down the stairs and into the lobby, but as his fingers close around the handle of the main door, a voice calls out behind him.
"Going somewhere, Winchester?"
Sam turns and sees the demon that brought him his meal. "Yes," he says. "I'm going out for something to eat. You got a problem with that?"
"Lucifer would prefer it if you stayed in the hotel from now on," the demon says.
"Then Lucifer can tell me that himself," Sam snaps. "I'm going out. Are you going to stop me?"
The demon merely watches Sam as he opens the door and steps outside.
"That's what I thought," he says. He allows the door to swing closed behind him and makes his way down the street to the diner.
If Lucifer wants to ignore him, that's fine, but Sam refuses to be treated like a prisoner. Not now he knows the truth.
xXx
There is a tap at the door, and Lucifer looks up. "Enter."
The demon, Charice he thinks she calls herself, comes in carrying to full jugs of blood. She sets them down on the table and then clears her throat. "Sam Winchester has left the hotel."
Lucifer nods. He was aware of it already; he'd heard her exchange with Sam in the lobby. Angelic hearing doesn't miss much.
"I tried to stop him," she says, "but..."
"My orders were explicit," Lucifer finishes for her. "That's okay. He will return."
He trusts in that. Sam would not just leave, no matter how he feels about Lucifer and his confession. His care for his brother's life matters more.
"You can leave me."
The demon bows her head and steps back out of the room.
Alone again, Lucifer goes to the table and picks up one of the jugs of blood sitting there. Bringing it to his lips, he swallows it down quickly. He has never enjoyed drinking the blood, but since things became complicated with Sam, he hates it. It feels like a betrayal to Sam to drink it. After watching Sam suffer through the days of withdrawal, even having it in the hotel feels wrong. He has no choice, though; he has to sustain the vessel, and the vessel demands blood. He tells himself that it shouldn't matter now that Sam has made it clear that he doesn't return Lucifer's feelings, but it does matter. He supposes it's part of the fickle state of love.
It is that same fickle state that has stopped him going to Sam. He has heard his prayers, but he hasn't responded, as he can't bring himself to look at Sam and know that he has made a fool of himself. He has never been made to feel weakened like this before. He has always felt strong, even as he was forced into the cage by Michael, but Sam made him feel weak.
He drinks the last of the blood and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
He gets up and goes to the window, staring out at the street below. Sam is nowhere in sight; he will have reached the diner already. Lucifer imagines him sitting there, chatting with the waitress that seems so keen on him. If he hadn't destroyed it all by following Gabriel's advice and declaring himself, he would have been there, too. He could be talking with Sam and enjoying Sam's company without any of these complications.
That's not to say he hasn't seen Sam since his confession. When he returned from his work in Carthage, he crept into Sam's room while he was still sleeping, just to ensure he was safe. He had stayed until Sam started to stir, and then he had slipped away.
He hears a rumble coming from further down the street and his attention is piqued. So is that of his demons. They become restless. He can hear their voices from his room. The demon that brought him the blood before comes rushing into the room without knocking.
"Dean Winchester," she says in a rush.
"What about him?" Lucifer asks.
"He's coming here."
He frowns. Dean Winchester, here, this cannot end well. He wonders what harebrained scheme has brought Dean here today. What weapon does he think he has that can possibly threaten Lucifer?
He cannot kill Dean, it would destroy Sam, but on the same breath, he cannot allow Dean to take Sam away. What is he supposed to do?
From the window, Lucifer sees a black car cruise to a stop outside the hotel. Lucifer knows little and cares less about human transportation, but he has to admit there is a raw beauty to this machine. He can understand why Sam would be attached to it.
From the car, climb two figures. One he recognizes as Dean, and the other his fallen brother Castiel. They exchange a look and then step up to the hotel doors.
"Lucifer, what do we do?" the demon asks. Lucifer had forgotten her presence until that moment.
"Do nothing," he says. "They are to be unharmed."
She nods and hurries from the room. Lucifer considers his options. He can kill Dean and Castiel and lose Sam forever or he can allow them to leave unharmed on the condition that Sam stays here. Lucifer may not be able to face being in the waking Sam's presence at the moment, but he doesn't want him to go away either. Or perhaps he should let him go, too. It would pain him, but perhaps that's what love means, pain. So far, he has seen nothing to contradict that theory.
"Lucifer, you son of a bitch, where are you?" a loud and uncouth voice calls from the hotel lobby.
Knowing that there is nothing left to do but face them, Lucifer materializes in the lobby, directly opposite Dean. "Hello, Dean," he says softly.
Dean starts and jumps back a few paces. From behind him, he pulls a gun. It's old, very old, and yet in fine condition. Lucifer has heard of this gun, it's reported to kill anything, dead. Unfortunately for Dean and thankfully for Lucifer, he is one of only five things the gun won't kill.
Castiel raises his hand, and Lucifer sees a bottle containing what he guesses is holy oil with a rag sticking out of the top of it. Lucifer smiles. "I don't think so, brother." He clicks his fingers and banishes Castiel from the state. It will take him a few minutes to find a way back in.
"Now, Dean," Lucifer says. "Why don't you put that fine gun down and you and I can have a chat."
"I'm not putting anything down," Dean snarls. "Not till you're dead.
Lucifer tilts his head to the side. "Really, you are going to kill me already? Without asking me any of those questions that are burning in you."
"Where's my brother?"
"He is currently dining at the charming diner around the corner. Would you like to see him?"
"I'll see him soon enough," Dean says.
Lucifer nods. "As you wish. Is there nothing I can do to persuade you to reconsider? I have hoped for some time that we could meet and speak. You are almost as fascinating to me as your brother is."
Dean's jaw tightens. "I have nothing to say to you."
Lucifer opens his arms wide, presenting a target. "Very well."
xXx
As Sam strolls around the corner heading back to the hotel, he sees a flash of chrome and shiny black paint. He stops dead in his tracks and tries to rationalize what he's seeing. It can't be the Impala. The Impala is in South Dakota with Dean and Bobby and Cas, isn't it?
His legs carry him forward, and he lays a hand on the smooth, polished metal of the hood. It is Dean's car, there is no question, which means Dean is here too. Fear grips Sam and it feels like a lead weight has slipped into his stomach. Dean is here with Lucifer. He'll be killed!
He runs down the street and flings open the doors of the lobby. He sees Dean at once. He is standing to the right of the doors, facing Lucifer. Scattered around the room are demons, and Dean is facing them all alone Sam drinks in the sight of Dean, absorbing him after weeks apart. Then he takes notice of what is in Dean's hand. It's the Colt and it's aimed at Lucifer. The Colt! The word sends a shiver of some unknown emotion through Sam. The Colt is said to kill anything; will it work on Lucifer? Lucifer who is standing with his arms spread wide, as if making himself as large a target as possible.
"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam asks.
"Finishing this," Dean says through gritted teeth. "Finishing him once and for all."
"Go upstairs, Sam," Lucifer says in his softest tone. "Your brother will be fine. Go upstairs."
Sam shakes his head. He's not leaving them, not for anything. He has to make Dean see that this is a mistake. He can't let him kill Lucifer.
"Please, Sam," Lucifer implores.
"Shut it, you," Dean snaps. "Sammy, get behind me."
Sam steps forward to stand between them. "Dean, put the gun down."
Dean shakes his head jerkily.
"Sam." Lucifer is speaking now, and he doesn't sound like himself.
Sam turns to the side so he can see Lucifer while keeping Dean in his view. He looks into Lucifer's eyes, and he sees fear there. That can only mean one thing: Lucifer knows the gun will work on him.
Fear curls around Sam, holding him in its icy clutches. He can't let Lucifer die. He just can't. He cares too much. He loves him…
And there it is. The thought he has been fighting away since Lucifer's confession. He has fallen in love with the Devil and there is nothing he can do about it.
"Sam," Lucifer says softly. "Please."
Sam shakes his head and steps forward to stand directly in front of him. He turns and looks into Dean's eyes. "I can't let you kill him, Dean."
"Dammit, Sammy," Dean says. "Get out of the way."
Sam shakes his head. "He's not what you think."
Dean sighs and lowers the gun slightly. It is now pointing at Sam's chest. "Sam, I know you're confused right now, but you need to get out of the way. I'm doing this."
"I can't," Sam says simply.
"Sam, please," Dean says imploringly.
"You want to kill him, you have to kill me, too."
"Don't do this," Dean says and he looks near tears. "We're so close to ending it, Sam. Can't you see that? We can end this here and now."
"I can't let you," Sam says firmly.
Then it happens, so fast Sam doesn't quite understand how it happened.
Dean is looking into his eyes, and Sam is trying to communicate his need, when the demon moves. It lurches forward, ignoring Lucifer's shouted warning, and tackles Dean.
There is a harsh cracking sound, and then the room is deadly silent.
AN: Bwahahahah! We're evil, huh? Please let us know what you think. We love you all. Hugs, Snarks and Clowns