Thank you so much VegasGranny and Ncsupnatfan for pre-reading.

Chapter Seven

Violet chanced a nervous glance at Sam and licked her lips. "Okay… Lucifer, what do you want me to teach you?"

Sam stared at her fear-filled face for a moment and felt a wave of frustration. "I'm not going to hurt you, Violet."

She bit her lip. "I want to believe that, but all evidence points to the contrary."

"Would Billie have brought you here just to die?"

"She's Death." The neutral tone she used when she said it was more of an answer than her words.

Billie was Death now, and she wasn't going to sweat the life of one reaper.

Sam didn't think he could persuade Violet with words that she was safe, so he would have to rely on actions. "Assume I know nothing," he said. "Start with flying."

"You can't even fly?" She flinched as the incredulous question left her.

Sam tried to look unthreatening, even as he processed his pain at her reaction, and said, "I can, I've done it, but it was an automatic reaction; it just happened. I need to know how to control it. So… teach me."

She nodded. "Yeah, okay. Uh… You can sense your wings, yes?"

Sam concentrated on the weight at his back and spread them so that the tips reached the walls of the room and passed through them. He understood they were more of a metaphysical thing that purely physical, but it felt strange. He could feel the plank board walls against them, but there was no pain.

"I can sense them," he said.

"Concentrate on them and where you would like to go," she said. "It doesn't matter how far as I will be able to follow you. Just pick a place and let your instincts take over."

Sam considered for a moment and decided that he didn't need to use this first trip to go big. He should stay somewhere private instead of arriving in the middle of a crowd of people who would freak out when they saw a man appear out of nowhere.

He fixed the small lake in the forest behind the cabin in his mind and willed himself to go. He felt his wings ripple and move, and then he was standing at the lake's edge with the water lapping at his shoes. He stepped back from the water and looked around for Violet, who appeared beside him.

"There, you did it," she said. "Does that help? Do you remember anything else?"

Sam guessed she was hoping the simple action of flight would trigger some other memories so she could call her job done and get away from him, but all he felt was impressed that he'd done it. Also, strangely free.

It was the same feeling he'd had when he'd gotten on to a bus that would take him to California the day he'd left for Stanford. It was a good feeling, but also confusing. His situation was dire, he'd lost everything and everyone he loved in life, but he had a new kind of freedom of movement.

"No," he said, and her face fell. "But I think I can do that again."

He concentrated on the cabin again, and a moment later, his feet hit the dusty floorboards inside.

Violet appeared beside him and said, "You can reach any distance and go any place you want that isn't warded."

"Great. What else? What about healing?"

She frowned. "You want to heal people? You?"

"Yes. I've done that once, too, but it was automatic, like flying. And I'd like to heal myself if I can. My grace is drained, and it's not healing me on its own."

"Oh. Then you need to see the wound and concentrate your grace on it."

Sam unbuttoned his shirt and exposed the wound on his chest, still sore after Billie had removed the bullets. He wasn't sure how she'd managed it, but he was impressed. He looked at the two puckered wounds, admiring the bullet placement with a critical eye—Jody and Frank were evidently crack shots. He brought a hand up to it and willed it to work. No light shone, and there was no sensation of skin and flesh knitting together the way there always was when Castiel healed him.

"It's not working," he said bitterly.

"You need to find your grace."

"Then tell me how!" Sam snapped, anger that he hadn't been aware of building up in him. He took two deep breaths and avoided her terrified gaze as he said, "I can't sense it."

He saw her flinch out of the corner of his eye as she said, "It's running through you like blood. If you concentrate on it, you'll feel it. It's warmth, love. It's what God gave you."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it is."

Taking another breath, he drew his attention inwards and felt for some sense of warmth. He thought there was something, the same kind of heat you felt cupping a coffee in your hands through a thick mug. It wasn't anywhere near as potent as demon blood had felt, that incredible power, or the way he'd felt when he'd taken Jack's grace in. It was there, though, and he thought he could do it. He concentrated on the warmth and held his hand over his wound again. This time, light glowed and he felt the twinge of healing. When he moved his hand, he saw the skin was clear again.

"Huh, it worked."

She nodded eagerly. "Yes. And it should feel the same way if you were to heal someone else." She hesitated a moment and then seemed to force her next words out. "Why would you heal someone else?"

Sam considered a moment, wondering if it was worth trying to tell her the truth. Billie said God had done a good job of changing the memories and that Dean would never be convinced, but perhaps Violet would. Was there any danger in trying? He couldn't see any.

"I'm not really Lucifer," he said. "My real name is Sam Winchester. I'm Dean Winchester's brother, Mary and John Winchester's son."

She looked startled and disbelieving, though she quickly tried to hide it under a mask of calm. "Okay."

"No, really, I am. I pissed God off, and he got his revenge by switching my place with the real Lucifer."

"So Nick Winchester is the devil?" she asked.

"Yes."

She stared at him for a moment and then said, "Please don't smite me for saying it, but that doesn't make sense. I can see your true face. You are Lucifer. Every divine being knows your identity."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, because there's no way God could change that?"

"Why would he? God is good."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "He sat through a couple of apocalypses before coming to help, but you call him good?"

A steely look of determination came into her eyes, a startling contrast to what she'd shown so far, and she said, "Yes. He had reasons for leaving the world to continue on its path. I was there from almost the point of creation. As long as there have been humans, there have been reapers to help them move on. I saw the greatest things he did. I have been touched by the divine because I am divine. I'm not so different from an angel."

"So, you drank the Kool-Aid, too." Sam raked his hands through his hair. "Fine. It was a longshot anyway. I'm not lying, though. I was human until yesterday, and Nick was the devil."

"Nick Winchester is a good man. I have seen what he's capable of."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said wearily. "He's perfect."

"He's not perfect, but he has done great things. He and Dean disrupt the natural order all the time, and that upsets some of my kind, but I see the value in both of them and have no desire to see them dead. I think the world would be a worse place without them."

Gabriel came to life in his mind. Really, Sam? You and I both know it's not Nick that did all those things with Dean. It was you. You're giving up that easy?

Goaded by Gabriel's voice, Sam snapped, "What about the Darkness? Didn't Nick set her free."

"He did, but he did it for his brother."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Sure, Billie sets me up with the only reaper in the world that excuses all that crap. Where were you when a few years ago I was Sam and Billie was threatening to dump me in The Empty?"

"I was serving souls."

"Awesome. I could have done with your help."

She frowned. "What would you have wanted from me, Lucifer?"

Sam glowered, and his hands fisted.

She clearly noted the movement as she winced and quickly said, "What else do you want to know?" pressing her hands to her chest as if defending herself.

Sam pushed down his anger and said, "I want to know everything. Uh… invisibility? That's an angel thing, right? Cas was spying on us one time—probably more than one time—and that could be helpful."

"Yes, you can do that. It takes concentration, but you're an archangel, so it shouldn't be a challenge. You have to will yourself to go unseen. We'll need people to test you, though."

"Fine. Let's go," Sam said.

"You lead, I'll follow."

Sam spread his wings and concentrated on a suitably crowded place where he would be closely observed. He huffed a laugh as he realized where to go. Few places in America got as crowded as Vegas on a daily basis, and he figured the security there would be tight enough for him to be noticed to test himself.

He felt his feet leave the floor, but this time it was a little different. He took time before landing, focusing on finding the right place where he could arrive unobserved but be seen when he was ready.

He set himself down in an isolated corner of Caesars Palace's casino and looked to the side as Violet appeared beside him.

"You're going to very visible here," she said.

"That's the idea," Sam said. "I need to be seen. Tell me how to do this."

"You need to will yourself—"

Sam cut her off impatiently. "Yeah, I got that part, but how do I do that?"

She considered a moment, stepping to the side as a woman with her purse clutched close to her chest marched past them. "Concentrate on something you've always wanted. Choose a place in your life that you have been desperate for something, when you have willed it to be, and try to find that feeling again."

There were many times in Sam's life when he'd been desperate, and many times he'd tried to will his wishes into fruition, but it had never worked.

No, that wasn't right, he'd once willed things into being. It was a dark part of his past, though, and he wasn't sure he was ready to let his mind go there.

"You have something?" she asked.

"Yes," Sam said tonelessly. "I'm not sure I want to use it, though."

She looked puzzled, and Sam wondered if she was searching for a place in Lucifer's life that he would be unwilling to revisit. She was probably thinking of the Cage or the battle with Michael that had sent him there. Lucifer would have wanted to save himself then.

He needed to tap into a moment he'd been strong, powerful, when he'd been exorcising demons, and that was going to hurt. His mind went to those blood-fueled days under Ruby's tutelage, and he felt for the rush of determination he'd felt then. It came slowly, and he held it in the back of his mind for a moment as he walked towards the closest guard at the cash desk with his gun across his chest, perfectly positioned to bring up at any moment. Another man was exchanging a black case that Sam guessed was full of takings about to be transferred to the vault. They were alert enough for Sam to work his plan.

"What are you doing?" Violet asked.

"Being noticed," Sam muttered as he marched forward.

The guard's eyes snapped to him, and a hint of suspicion crossed his face. "Sir, you need to step back."

Sam walked closer, feeling a rush that was almost like adrenaline. He wanted to be seen, to be noticed by all, so he could test his theory. He was excited by the possibility.

As he walked forward, the guard brought up his gun and said, "Sir, I need you to move back now."

People around them began to take notice. They shot nervous glances between Sam and the guard and then began to hurry away.

The guard spread his stance and started to speak, but at the same moment, something dropped into Sam's hand. He looked down and saw the long blade gripped in his hand. He stared at it, wondering how he'd done it again, just like before with Jody, but his considering lasted a split second before there was the crack of a gunshot, and something punched him in the chest over his heart.

This time hurt so much more than the bullets had before, and he knew why. This was a high-powered assault weapon, and the force behind it was so much stronger. He felt bones shatter and the explosion of the fragments inside. He couldn't draw a breath; he wasn't even sure he had lungs left to take the air.

The impact had been huge. Blood blossomed and poured from his wound, both at the front of his chest and on his back. The sheer power of the gun had caused a through and through.

He saw and felt it all in a split second as fight or flight instincts warred in him, and then he felt the strange weightlessness that he usually felt before falling unconscious—though his mind stayed alert—and then the guard was shouting, "Where did he go?"

Sam looked around. The place was in chaos; people were running and screaming, and more guards were rushing towards him, but none of them seemed to be able to see him.

"Well, that's invisibility taken care of," Violet said. "We should get out of here."

Sam spread his wings at his back, and a moment later was in the cabin again, his chest and back pulsing with pain.

He tore off his ruined shirt and looked down at the wound on his chest. The hole was smaller than he'd expected from the pain, but he felt, from the raw edges on his back that were strangely clear to him, that the exit wound was much bigger.

"You should heal that," Violet said, her tone calm despite the fear in her face.

Sam held his hand over the wound and felt the pull of healing. It was so much more intense than before as it was bone, flesh, organ, and tissue repairing. It took longer, too. He was wavering on his feet before the skin had knitted closed on both his chest and back.

He staggered forward and flopped onto the couch, the blood on his shirt and skin feeling intense and disturbing. For a moment, he just closed his eyes and breathed into his newly repaired lungs, and then he looked at Violet and said, "Healing and invisibility are a go. What else can you teach me?"

"I think…" She swallowed hard. "You should rest, Lucifer."

"My name's not Lucifer!"

She flinched. "I'm sorry. Sam, I think you should rest. I can see how much more depleted your grace is now, and it wasn't strong to begin with. You can call me back when you're ready. I will hear you."

Sam frowned. "You hear prayer?"

"No, I hear angel radio," she stated. "I'm divine."

"I don't hear angel radio," Sam said.

She looked confused. "You should. Perhaps you're blocking it out. Concentrate on opening your mind."

"You know what, I think I'll get to that next time," Sam said, knowing it was something he needed to learn but not wanting to pressure himself now while he felt weakened and sensitive to her close presence. "I am going to rest awhile, but you can wait here."

She looked upset, and Sam guessed she'd been looking forward to some distance from 'Lucifer,' but he wasn't going to make this easy for her. He'd just been shot—again—and he was drained.

"Wait outside if it makes you more comfortable," he said. "I'm going to sleep."

Her eyes widened with incredulity. "You'll sleep?"

"Yes," Sam said defiantly. "Lucifer might not sleep, but Sam Winchester does."

He moved to the middle of the couch and lay down, his head pillowed on the arm of the couch and his legs curled up tight to fit.

He closed his eyes and felt lethargy coming as the door opened and closed. Then footsteps crossed the porch and down the stairs then moved onto the dirt.

He was asleep again within minutes.

So… Sam is picking up the skills. That was a challenging part of this story. Sam has so much power now, but it's all untested. I won't spend much more time on this training as it would get boring, but it needed at least one chapter to show the process and his experience. It also sets up another 'clue' for his family to come to in the next chapter.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx