Parking his brand new, pristine 1955 Chevrolet Corvette into his driveway, Sam lets out a grateful sigh. Looking out to the suburban, two-story home with utter warmth and sanctuary he has one thought in mind; it's good to be home.
Sure it's a little later than usual but the case he's in the middle of is killing him. He knows that there's an answer to be had, a way to help his client out of the mess he's found himself in, but he just can't seem to find it. He will though. Sam knows the difference between his innocent assignments and his guilty ones. This current client of his is as innocent as the day he was born, Sam's sure of it.
Shaking his head to clear his still going work focus, he does his best to leave that part of himself outside. He hates bringing his work home with him. His house is supposed to remain his place away, where he isn't Lawyer Sam. He's a totally different Sam when he's done with his day and that's the way he wants it to remain.
Walking up to the front door a little smile plays across his lips. This is his favorite part of every day, his absolute favorite. Gripping the front door knob he huffs a quiet laugh in preparation before pulling it open.
"I'm home," he calls out to the rest of the house and shuts the door behind him. As he hangs his fedora onto the coatrack next to him he listens to the sound of small feet running his way. He barely has his coat off in time to for her to slam her small body into his legs.
"Daddy!" the little girl all but screeches when she bear-hugs his knees. Every day she sprints straight to him when he gets home, the skirt of whatever dress she has on that day flying behind her as she does. Sam happily bends down to pick her up.
"Hi, sweetie!" Family Sam grins wide as he pulls her in to hug him. With her small arms around his neck he sighs once more. Yup. The best damn part of his day. "How was your day, babycakes?"
"It was good, Daddy," the long, blonde-haired girl tells him as she looks to him with her hazel eyes. "I finished my book and Mrs. Hanning said she was proud of me because it was a fourth grader's book and I'm a first grader and I read it all by myself."
"That's great," Sam tells her, kissing her cheek as he has a flash of sheer pride in her. She's smart, very smart, bordering on scary smart at this point, and she's still so young.
"She even had me answer questions about it and I answered all of them right! She put a check mark on my reading chart!"
"Well, I'm proud of you. That's so good. You want to find a new one tonight since you finished the last one?"
"Auntie Lizzy said I should read James and the Giant Peach next when I asked her after school."
"That's a really good book. I love that one and Mommy has a copy already," Sam tells her. "We can put it with your school bag tonight and you can bring it to school tomorrow to show Mrs. Hanning what you want to read."
"Ok." She smiles back to him, one of her front teeth missing and the one next to it hanging at an odd angle. Sam grins, his cheeks ready to break. "How have you not lost that tooth yet?"
"I don't know," she shrugs back at him.
"I'm gonna pull it soon…"
"No, daddy! Don't!" She clamps a hand over her mouth to guard it.
She's been irrationally scared of Sam pulling out her teeth since she started losing them. He might tease her about it but he'd never actually do that to her.
"I won't. Don't worry," he says to her and kisses the back of her hand that's blocking her mouth. "Where's mommy?"
"She's right here," the woman grins to him as she comes into the foyer with an apron on over her dress, her pearls hanging around her neck and her hair neatly up. "Hi honey." She walks over to give him a peck on the lips which Sam happily returns, the spark he still feels for her making his heart full.
"Hi," Sam smiles right back, putting his daughter down. "Hey, you don't look as tired today. Was Dean actually good?"
"Surprisingly, yes," she nearly laughs in a thankful manner. "After ten months of crying and always being hungry and attention seeking every second of the day, the little guy is finally becoming less like his uncle and more like his wonder father." She leans up on her toes again and Sam meets her halfway, the kiss a little more serious this time.
"Good," Sam smiles wide to hear that his wife might actually have easier days ahead. Their son has been difficult from the day he was born but considering his namesake at least Sam wasn't all that surprised. The little guy's living up to it.
"Yes, definitely good," she returns before looking down at their daughter. "Go wash up, Mary. Dinner's ready."
With her blond hair flowing behind her, she rushes to the bathroom to wash her hands just as she was told.
"She tell you about the book?" his wife asks with a grin and an arched eyebrow.
"The second I walked through the door," Sam tells her as he drapes his arms around her shoulders.
"She was so excited to tell you. I bet you were just like that as a kid." She places her hands on his waist and angles her head straight up to look at him with the huge difference in their heights.
"Eh, she takes after you more," Sam replies. "Looking at her you wouldn't even know that she's fifty-percent me. She's like a mini Louise if you ask me."
"Good thing she picked the pretty one to look like then," Louise winks.
From upstairs the sound of a baby crying can be heard and with it Louise groans.
"Perfect timing as always," she forces a smile and starts to head for the stairs.
"No, no," Sam tells her, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the stairs. "I'll get Dean, you go do dinner."
"Thank you," she returns with a grateful smile. She hugs Sam quickly before leaving him for the kitchen. As Sam makes his way up the steps he can hear her call out to their daughter, "Mary Elizabeth, you better actually be washing your hands! Soap and all!"
Making his way up the staircase, the crying of his six month old son getting louder with every step, Sam revels in the sound. Maybe that's a little sadistic since the sound is one of sadness or discomfort, but still. That's his boy. That's his little man. Still sounds beautiful to him.
"Oh my goodness," Sam says in a lighthearted tone as he walks to the crib. "Buddy, hey." Peeking over the edge of the railing the baby looks straight up at him with big, watery, green eyes. "You have to stop fussing so much. You'll drive your mother crazy."
The second he has attention his son's face lights up with a bright smile.
"Wow, you really are like my brother, aren't you?" Sam says as he picks Dean up. "A charmer before you're even one." Once he has Dean perched on his hip he keeps talking to him. "And you make mommy nuts just like Uncle Dean always does. No wonder he calls you his favorite."
The baby smiles wide before pressing his face into Sam's shoulder. Sam laughs a bit at this because, as much of a man as he is, that was pretty damn cute.
"God, you're gonna be a handful aren't you?" Sam asks his son as he brings them both down the stairs and into the kitchen. When he walks in the table is set, Mary is sitting at her chair at the dinner table, and Louise is scooping heaping portions of food onto each plate.
"Seriously?" Louise asks as she sees her two boys walk into the room and she spies Dean quietly sitting on Sam's hip. "I swear he's never this calm for anyone else but you. So unfair."
"Aw, is that jealousy I hear?" Sam asks before looking to Dean. "Is mommy jealous that you like me better?"
Dean gurgles a little as he reaches up and touches Sam's mouth when he sees it moving. Sam blows a raspberry and makes the baby laugh.
"Mommy's jealous that she has to be the warden all day while daddy gets to be the fun guy who plays at night instead of do the dirty work," Louise says with a smile but her point is heard by Sam loud and clear.
"Well then, how about tonight you sit down and eat dinner while it's hot and I feed Dean?" Sam offers, knowing that as much as Louise keeps it traditional around the house that she must want the break.
"No, honey, you worked all day. I'm fine."
"Nope, too late," Sam says as he walks to the highchair and drops Dean down into it. "I'm feeding the brat." He slides the tray of the highchair into place before turning around. "What are we thinking today, cereal or cereal…" He freezes in place. "What the hell are you doing here!?"
When Sam turns around he sees the figure standing at the other end of the table.
"Hiya sport," the newcomer greets menacingly.
"Azazel," Sam says as he peers into the yellow eyes of the thing that nearly ruined his life. "You're dead."
"That's very true," the demon says to Sam. "But being a Lucifer loyalist, well, it has its perks." He laughs menacingly.
"Who is this?" Louise asks with shock, wide eyes looking at Sam for answers. "You know this man?"
"Oh you're husband and I go way back," Azazel winks to Louise.
"How did you get in here?" Louise has to wonder.
"So this is what you dream about, Sammy?" Azazel asks as he picks a green bean off of the plate at the head of the table meant for Sam. He takes a bite and chews. "A little Leave It to Beaver wonderland life complete with 1950's perfect little house wife and two darling little squirts? Where's the warrior that was supposed to lead the army of hell into glorious victory?"
"What are you talking about?" Louise asks with utter confusion before turning to her husband. "What is he talking about, Sam?"
"Little lady, why don't you let the men talk here for a moment," Azazel suggests as he kinetically flings her against the far wall of the kitchen.
"Mommy!" Mary screams with fear and she gets up to run to her mother, only to be flung against the wall along with her, pinned side by side.
"Let them go!" Sam demands in the booming voice he never uses around his family.
"Sam, what's going on?" Louise's fearful voice asks but instead of answer her Sam starts for Azazel.
"Freeze," the demon commands of Sam and his feet are glued in place to the floor mid-stride. He looks down at them when he can't move. "Hey Sam, do you know what today is?"
Sam looks up but Azazel isn't where he was standing one moment ago. Instead he is standing next to Dean in his highchair.
"Get away from my son," Sam grits out, his overprotective nature flaring up wildly.
"It's little Deanie's six month birthday!" Azazel cheers as he looks at the little boy. "You're getting old, aren't you kiddo?"
"No!" Sam panics. "No, Azazel! No way!"
"You see, since you weren't up for it, I figured maybe the second generation would be," he smiles wide while slicing his wrist open with his own thumbnail. "This little one looks like a true leader to me."
"What is going on!?" Louise shouts with her fear and need for answers. The loud tone in her mother's voice makes Mary start to cry.
"Mom, I'm gonna ask that you butt out of this one," Azazel recommends and snaps his fingers. The second he does, both Louise and Mary start their slow accent up the wall of the kitchen towards the ceiling.
As he watches the two women in his life head for their certain horrible death, Sam panics.
"No, no, no, no, no! Stop this!" he shouts helplessly as he watches Azazel drip blood into little Dean's mouth, damning him in the same way the demon did him when he was six months old. "You fucking monster!"
"Oh relax," Yellow Eyes tells him just as runs a soothing hand over Dean's still partially bald head. "Dean here will be just fine."
Sam looks to his son just in time to see his eyes flash yellow. Immediately after the flames start up and when he looks to the ceiling he sees his wife and his little girl burning up.
"NO!" Sam bellows from his gut with the sights surrounding him. His family disappearing, turning evil around him, he can't handle it. His eyes slam shut as he hears his family cry for help, desperate and in pain. "No! This can't happen!"
"You're right," he hears Lucifer say as the noisy background quiets to near silence. "It totally can't."
When Sam's lids fly open again he sees he's once more surrounded by four stone walls with his torture master standing casually by. His feet aren't stuck to the floor and the scene around him is gone completely.
"Pretty lame, Sam," Lucifer disappointedly tells him. "That's what your perfect little world would be?"
Taking several deep breaths to catch up to the shock he's just been put through, Sam ignores Lucifer as he talks on and puts down his personal idea of utopia.
"I mean, come on!" the devil continues. "You're a fucking mess, man. You want to go bring your dead girlfriend into the 50's, a time of male chauvinism and impossible domestic perfection, pop out a couple rugrats and live like any other normal, boring douche bag? I expected so much more from you, Sam."
Still ignoring Lucifer, Sam lets himself sink to the cold floor and ball up, eyes squeezing shut as his brain torments him harder than Lucifer and his ever-changing ability to fuck with reality ever could. He wanted that so badly, he wanted the perfect life of dinners and jobs and kids and wives who love him and work hard to keep their family happy. He wants that so bad it kills him and it was just right there, so close.
"It was right there," Sam quietly says to himself. "Right there. All of it, right there. In front of me. Dinner smelled so good. Gotta wash up for dinner."
"Sam?" Lucifer asks, his voice just slightly worried.
"I'm home," Sam keeps rambling, spilling forth the only thoughts he can manage to let free. "Mary needs a new book, new book… James and the Gant peach would be good." He stares at the floor as he mind replays the moments of his life combined with his unobtainable one he just witnessed. "Lou liked that one when she was little. Mary read like her, read like Lou, read so well. So smart. She's so smart." Sam looks up to Lucifer. "Dean looked like Dean. Same eyes. Big, green. Dean looked like Dean. He looked like Dean."
"Wow," Lucifer marvels as he watches Sam snap, his brain completely shattering with everything he's been through. "I think I finally broke your cabeza, buddy."
"They're mine. Mine. My family," Sam babbles on with a smile that doesn't reach his lost eyes. "Mary looked like her. Her hair. Her hair. She's just like Lou… but my eyes. Mary had my eyes. Love them. Love them all."
"Shit, well this is just gonna ruin my weekend," Lucifer complains as his arms fly from his sides. "What the hell kinda fun can I have with you while you're all fucked up like this. Damn it, Sam."
"Send me back," Sam suddenly asks while crawling on his hands and knees to kneel at Lucifer's feet. "I have to save them. They burned. They burned like mom. Can't."
"Sammy boy…"
"Now! You have to!" he begs, grabbing the devils leg as he looks up to them. "Dean… and the blood… he needs me. His life will be so hard. He needs me to protect him, like dad. Like dad did. He needs me."
"Allllright," Lucifer draws out as he pries Sam's hands off his leg. He backs up to the doorway. "I'm gonna back off for a little bit, let you stew in this… whatever this is." He shuts the cell door and Sam crawls quickly to the bars.
"You can't leave me here," Sam panics as he grabs the bars. "They need me. I have to save them. Mary can't burn. Lou… I need to get back."
"I'll come find you when you've put yourself back together," Lucifer tells him while walking away. "I'm gonna go see how Adam's doing until then. Been a while since I've seen that kid."
"No! Wait!" Sam shouts out, asking for him to come back. "Put me back! Put me back there! Please! They need me!"
Silence is all he gets and Sam lies onto his side on the floor, curled up fetal position style. "Louise. I just wanted to eat dinner. Feed Dean. Mary needs a new book to read. She needs a book. She's smart. Needs me to help. Help her." He closes his eyes and feels the loss of them already. "Love her. Love Louise. Want her back, want my wife. Need them. My family. Need them."