Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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I do not own Supernatural, Sherlock Holmes, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any other movie, TV show, book, and/or song referenced in this tale.

Chapter Warnings: Victoria is dealing with the after-effects of Lucifer's non-consensual use of her body while she was kidnapped. Some angst as well.

Chapter 22

Nightmares and Dreamscapes

Dean made eye contact with his backseat passenger. "You still want to stop back by that gas station on the way home Tor?"

Victoria furrowed her brow. Clark was a dick, but she was probably going to be too busy to check up on his moral progress. "I don't think so, thanks anyway."

Dean nodded.

Victoria took a sip of her coffee and looked back into the rearview mirror. "What are we going to tell Jack?" She shifted uneasily in her seat. The thought had been plaguing her ever since they confirmed their suspicions. The boy was sensitive, kind, and Victoria knew that telling him the truth, however sugar-coated they made it, could mentally harm him. He was young, and not emotionally ready for news of this caliber yet. God, Victoria hated the yet.

Dean cleared his throat and shared a knowing glance with Sam. "I uh, talked to Cas about that, and uh, he thinks we should just tell the kid its yours and Sam's." Dean hated having this conversation, even having to think about this conversation. Did he want his little brother to have a nice normal life? Hell yeah. Sammy deserved kids, a wife, the whole frickin' shebang. Was it supposed to happen like this? Where a baby was more or less forced onto him by the Being responsible for royally screwing up their lives? Hell no. Did they have a choice? Also, Hell no. So, here it was, a baby staring them in the face in five short months. A kid none of them were prepared for, a kid that could potentially emotionally damage any one of them. Hell, probably even physically damage. But it was Tor's, and that made it family. And truth be told, Dean liked kids, he was good with them. And he would make a hell of an uncle.

Sam looked down at his hands. Why was Dean better at this stuff now? He knew that Dean had comforted Tor more in the last little bit than he had. And Dean had comforted him too. Dean was truly the Righteous Man. Sam snorted at the reference, knowing Dean would totally punch him for it.

"Okay." Victoria agreed, sipping more of her coffee. It made sense, and it wasn't all that far from the truth. Not really.

They brought home pizza. Jack and Mary made salad. They sat around the table laughing, eating, and drinking. They all cherished moments like this. True family moments four of them never planned on having.

Victoria never thought she would see an Angel of the Lord having a beer. She inwardly laughed at the scene, causing her nose to crinkle in a way that made Sam smile.

"What did you kill?" Jack asked, in between bits of pepperoni. He gave Loki the crust.

"A wraith." They answered simultaneously.

Mary winced. She did not like those guys.

"Not a typical one either." Victoria mused. "He was, enhanced."

The mood sobered.

"How so?" Castiel inquired, suddenly all business.

"He was stronger with his psychic abilities. Quicker. And he took quite a bit of strength to smite. But not quite as much as the tribrid."

Dean sat back in his chair and took a swig of his beer. Fingers wrapped expertly around the neck. "Are they upping the game cause we are?" He gave a nod of his head towards Jack.

Sam's eyebrows knitted together. "Like the universe balancing itself?"

"Yeah Sammy, like that." Dean rolled his eyes and took another draw.

"If Time or Balance is omniscient, then possibly?" Victoria mused.

They all looked to Cas.

"They are omniscient, yes. However, not psychic. And since we have been encountering the obscure since before power was tipped in our favor, I would say that while that theory has validity, it is not entirely correct."

Dean smirked. Nerdy little angel.

Sam's brow furrowed, beer bottle in between his palms. "So, we may be looking at another Big Bad?"

The bunker was surprisingly well-lit, did they install a sky light? Not that the bunker had a view of the sky with which to be lit. Victoria shrugged. She threw off the covers, carefully removed Sam's arms from around her waist, and went to go check on her child, whose yearning awoke her.

The crib was airy, the gauze and netting surrounding it creating a look of delicacy. The child appeared to be lit from within, bright blue eyes gazing up at her mother. Victoria reached down and picked her baby up, her entire body being warmed from the touch. The child always warmed her like that, as if she were her mother's external peace. Victoria held the child to her, the baby's face nestled into her shoulder. Victoria rested her head slightly on her child's, inhaling the sweet, powdery scent of her hair. Her head was soft on Victoria's cheek. The child's mother rubbed small circles onto her back, providing comfort and alleviating the yearning.

Victoria felt Sam's arms wrap around her waist from behind. Her heart and the grace around it fluttered around the life-giving organ as she felt his breath in her hair, his lips about to kiss the top of her head. He then kissed their baby's.

"Good morning beautiful ladies."

"Good morning." Victoria muttered back, happily, dreamily, fully engaged in the bliss that was this moment.

Victoria felt Sam shift from the side her daughter was resting to her slightly exposed neck. He began kissing it softly, and then not so softly, and then harshly, hungrily. Victoria attempted to move away discreetly in order to clue him in on her discomfort. He had never made her uncomfortable, and she was sure he didn't know he was doing it now; he would never do that to her.

Sam's ever tightening grip around her waist held her in place. Victoria started to panic, the grace that only seconds ago relished in his touch now constricting her heart in an attempt to slow the panic. His grip should not be this tight, she should be able to escape it easily. Her neck was beginning to hurt and she could feel the bruises began to form beneath her skin. Some of the grace began to make its way from her heart to the spot right above her clavicle.

Her breathing became faster and Sam took that as a sign she didn't give. His hand began to move down from her waist. Tears began to form in her eyes. She held her child to her more tightly and with all of her strength, which was a considerable force, she twisted away from his hold, child still safe and secure in her arms.

Hazel eyes looked at her in confusion. Each step she took toward the door he took toward her. "What's wrong, Tor?" There was pain in his eyes, rejection, but something else, something old.

Did he not know? Was he really clueless? Did he think this was okay now? Victoria only doubted for a moment. No, this wasn't how Sam normally acted. The door was close, wasn't it? She let go of her child's back in order to feel for the door handle. Where was it?

"Tor, what's going on, just talk to me." The pain was still there, but the something older grew more, what was that look? Dangerous?

"Umm…" Where was that friggin' door handle? "I thought you knew that I…"

"That you what, baby? Didn't want me to touch you?" Yes, that look was definitely danger.

"No, that I wasn't…" She kept grasping at air. She gave up and returned her hand to her child.

Sam smirked, an evil smirk that revealed the upper right portion of his teeth. "Aww, come on baby, don't be like this." He shoved her up against a wall Victoria was pretty sure a second ago didn't exist. "How do you think we got her?"

Victoria looked into eyes that suddenly turned red. She steeled herself against the wall. No no no. He was dead, this wasn't real. She closed her eyes, hoping to wake up. She opened back up to a Sam with a sarcastic smile.

"Yeah, thought you'd be more comfortable and willing in the bunker. But, whatever." With a spread of his hands the room she shared with Sam turned into an office? It sure looked like an office. With a throne, a smaller throne by it on the right side and an ornate cradle on the left of it.

Angels' bodies were strewn around, angel blades in hand, futile in their fight against the Devil. Victoria gasped as she recognized Ezekiel, eyes burned out. Lucifer smirked at her realization; he felt her horror and reveled in it. "He put up a real fight for you, that one." She felt her stomach flip, the grace swirling around her organs, unsure of where it was most needed.

Victoria looked at the man who was still pinning her to the wall. "Welcome to Heaven wifey."

He dragged his finger down her cheek, making her wince. "Don't worry, you'll get the hang of this. Thought my true vessel would make you all hot and ready, but I guess I overestimated that relationship. No worries, we'll get it right back on track."

He kissed her roughly, making the tears brimming in her eyes escape. When he drew back, he licked his lips. "That'll get better too."

What was that she tasted? It was metallic like blood, but also sulfuric? She looked at him in revulsion. He swaggered over to his throne and sat down, patting the seat beside him. He took a chalice that was on the arm of the chair and took a long drink.

"What?" He asked, head tipping, "Do you not like the taste of demon blood?"

Victoria woke up profusely sweating. She looked over at Jack. Please don't be having the same dream. She kept repeating to herself as she laid her shaking hand on his forehead. She smiled faintly as she realized he was dreaming of playing fetch at the park with Loki.

Victoria's foreign grace was itching furiously, trying to make calm out of chaos. She removed Sam's arm and went into the bathroom. Without removing her clothes, she got in a warm running shower and sat in the bottom, hoping no one could hear her sobs.

"I don't know how long she's been in there, Dean, all right? But it's been since I've been up at least, and Jack said she was in there when he got up two hours ago."

"You knocked man, she said she was okay."

Sam pulled his lower lip inside of his mouth,

Dean knew that look. "Look Sammy, she's gonna act 'off' or whatever. But she's strong, she'll get better."

Sam sat down, morning coffee in hand. Dean sat across from him. Sam tried to nod and provide a sad smile that meant he'd shove everything down and hope for the best.

"She, uh, won't talk to me Dean."

"She doesn't want to hurt you Sam."

Sam snorted. "How much longer are we going to do this to each other, huh? You, me, Cas? All we do is shove crap so far down that we end up…" He shook his head.

Dean pursed his lips and sighed. "Look, man, you and me, we agreed no more lies, after that whole uh" Dean hated saying his name, the guilt he so long internalized over Kevin, over Sam rising to the top, "Gadreel mess."

"But not lying doesn't mean opening up, Dean. And the reason we don't open up? Because we don't want the other one to feel guilty. We took a literal Angel and taught him that way of thinking within a few years." Sam laughed sardonically. "Tor only took half that."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "She was like that before man, I think that's why we all clicked."

"Do you know how messed up that is?" Sam was practically yelling.

"What other kind of person would work with us Sammy, huh? Some chick that spouts off her feelings every two minutes?"

"Wouldn't hurt Dean."

"Well, you're stuck with me, I'm afraid." Victoria walked in, not looking at Sam but trying not to make it obvious she wasn't looking at Sam. She got out her favorite mug Jack picked out at one the gas stations they stopped at a few weeks back that said: "World's Best Aunt." She frickin' loved it.

"I had a nightmare Sam." Victoria confessed, never looking away from the coffee she was pouring into her cup. She heard his chair scoot across the floor and went to sit by Dean before he could come over to her. She couldn't bear to feel his arms encircle her from behind right now.

She held the cup tightly, trying to get the warm coffee to ground her as the shower had done. Until the water turned cold. Apparently even hot water heated by magic runs out.

Sam studied her face and noticed the red rimmed eyes and dark shadows.

"How much sleep did you get, Tor?"

She flinched at his voice, his freakin' voice. "A couple hours? I'm not sure." She never took her eyes off her coffee.

"Tor?" The plea was gentle, kind, pure, and full of that damn pain.

She made herself look at him. "It was just a dream, Sam. I'll be fine." She forced what she knew was the most pathetic excuse for a smile.

"I thought you said, and I quote that you 'would snap like a twig'."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Pretty sure I could take you in the shape you're in right now."

Tor rolled her neck, loosening up the muscles. "Nightmares come with the job, you know that."

She threw a right hook that Dean stepped out of the way for. He gave her a smug grin and raised an eyebrow at her. "Chosen One?"

Dean attempted to punch her with a left cross, which she easily blocked with her forearm. He tried to pretend like it didn't sting. She healed him instantly. He rolled his eyes again.

"Yeah, but the job doesn't usually involve creepy doctors, Lucifer, and a kid."

Victoria kicked his legs out from under him, knocking his breath out of him. She offered him her hand. He took it and got up with as much dignity as he could muster. Without releasing his hand, she looked into his eyes, "I dreamed Sam was Lucifer."

"Oh, crap."

He used her hand to pull her over his body and landed her on the mat. She looked up at him. "Cheating."

"Opportunity." He winked.

She sprung up and rolled her neck again. "It wasn't pleasant." Her eyes scanned the floor.

His eyes narrowed. She once more looked up. "You can probably assume."

"Tor, it was just a dream. You know Sam."

"I know that. But what he said."

"Dream Devil? He's a bastard." He said that with such utter conviction Victoria was a bit taken aback.

He managed to land a punch across her jaw because of her distraction. She looked annoyed.

He winced. "Sorry."

"I'm not healing your knuckles this time."

"Fair enough. They just kind of sting anyway."

"What do you mean, Dream Devil?"

"He's a dick."

Victoria threw a series of punches, all of which Dean was able to block.

"Impressive, mortal."

Dean shrugged. "I'm kind of a big deal."

Victoria laughed.

"It was just a dream. A hell of a bad one. But you're safe." He wrapped his arms around her.

"Eww, you're all sweaty."

He responded by rubbing his face on the shoulder of her t-shirt.

She laughed and gently pushed him off.

Victoria took Sam's hand, surprising him. She sat on the table he had a book sprawled out on. "Wanna come with me?" She attempted coy but was sure she was off the mark; one thing Victoria Doyle was not was coy. His face was surprised, and she knew part of that was her doing, she had been avoiding him all day. She forced herself to look him in his eyes and focused on the danger that was missing from them.

His stomach turned, scared. He knew something was off since breakfast, and he didn't want to have 'a talk'. Even though she confessed her affection in many ways, he was still so unsure of it. As Dean had said, she fit in with their family, complete with not only emotional baggage but a stowaway compartment.

"Yeah, I'll just go get my jacket."

"Okay, I'll be waiting in the Stang."

Sam looked confused as he went to get his jacket that he didn't really need because the night was warm, but habits were hard to break. Dean stopped him. "What's wrong Sammy?"

"Tor wants me to go somewhere with her."

"And?" The tone was so sarcastic that Sam immediately pulled a face that said, 'Shut up Dean'.

"She hasn't looked at me all day and now wants to go somewhere."

"Pretty sure she's not gonna offer you up for some type of sacrifice, Sammy."

And there was the face again.

Dean chuckled and patted him on the back.

Sam looked at his girl as she parked the car at the park. "Are we going for a run?"

"Oh, God no."

Sam snickered.

She got out of the car and opened the truck. "We, Sam Winchester, are having a late-night picnic." She took a basket out of the trunk and started walking toward a clearing. Sam helped her lay out the blanket.

He laid down with his arm under his head, looking up at the stars. Victoria laid her head on his chest, looking up into the sky as well.

The night was clear, opening the view for the multitudes of stars. The near full moon lit the sky almost as if it were a drunken day. The frogs were loud, calling for a mate. Their croaks filling the still silence. Every once in a while, a grasshopper would chime in, adding to the music of the night. The air smelled clean, not with the crispness of a cool night, but with the warm mustiness that heralded summer. The clover offered a light fragrance, adding to the sweetness of the dark.

"Do you know the names of them?"

Sam put his free arm across Victoria's stomach. She held it tighter to her with her own arms, gripping his flesh lightly. While this was a gesture on her part to indicate to Sam his touch was welcomed, it also allowed her control. Control she knew she didn't need with Sam but control she did need after that dream.

Victoria drifted to sleep listening to Sam name the stars, the constellations, and the origins of their names. She loved his brilliance.

"There you are. Thought you ran away from me again."

She was still clutching the baby to her side. She took comfort in its steady breathing.

"This is a dream."

Lucifer in Sam's body smiled. "Wouldn't that be something if it were true? Do you really think, Victoria Morningstar, that you would dream this?" He motioned around him, to the Angels on the floor around them, to her Guardian. "Doesn't it make much more sense that the world out there, with 'good' Sam and Dean and Cas…" He rolled his eyes, "Is your dream?"

"This is a nightmare. I used incorrect phrasing." She felt the child's warmth, steadying her courage.

He leaned forward in his throne. "Where were you in your head just now? Hum? With Sam, in some field?" He scoffed. "And this is the dream?"

"Sam would never say yes to you."

"Wouldn't he?" He licked his lips and swirled the chalice in his hand. "What if I promised to never press you too hard? If I agreed, if he stayed silent back here…" He motioned to his head, "to not force myself upon you completely? What do you think Sammy would do then?"

Victoria braced herself against the wall.

"No. This is a dream."

Lucifer rolled Sam's eyes. "You'll outgrow that. And I suspect your 'otherworld' dreaming will be outgrown as well. We'll just have to wait. And baby, we have forever."

Victoria awoke with a gasp, hand clutched to her burning chest. She pushed Sam's arm away with her other. How did that feel so frickin' real? She turned onto her hands and knees to try and breathe.

Sam was rubbing circles on her back. She looked at him wildly. "How long was I out?"

"Thirty minutes? I dropped off too."

"Tor, what is it? What are these dreams?"

"Why?" She sat back down.

"Because sometimes," he attempted to tuck her hair behind her ear, and she shied away, almost violently. Sam sat back as well. "It helps us separate them from reality."

"Why'd you say it like that?"

Sam's eyebrows knitted, "I just mean that sometimes talking about them helps us realize they aren't real."

"They're always real Sam." She said that to deflect, to use the excuse of past cases, but in reality? Victoria Doyle was drowning. That baby's breath, its warmth felt just a real as Sam's arm around her only minutes before.

Sam nodded. "We can't save everyone Tor, but we do save a lot."

God. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt this Sam. She calmed herself, placating the overacting grace.

"We do." She nodded. "I'm so sorry I've been on edge all day."

He reached out to put his hand on her shoulder, "Is this okay?" she nodded.

She turned around and wrapped herself completely in him. She closed her eyes and breathed in. She noted every scent on him, the scent of him. She committed to memory the musk, the laundry detergent and dryer sheets Dean insisted on, the faint smell of cologne, hair product, and slight fresh sweat from the warm night. She didn't need the control this time, if this was a dream she never wanted to wake up.

"Do you want to head home?" She could hear the tiredness in his voice.

"No." She barely whispered.

He chuckled, his breath tickling her ear, making the hair on her arms move.

"Okay."

They laid back down, but this time she didn't go to sleep. She focused on him, noting every feature, trying to distinguish Sam from the monster in her dreams. At least, she thought it was a dream.