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Upstairs, Sam rolled up out of bed. He ran his fingers through his hair and headed for the bathroom. Lucifer was waiting inside. He was sitting on the lid of the toilet, reading. Sam closed his eyes and reopened them. Lucifer was still there.

"I just have a few more pages to go. Don't let me hold you up. Continue as if I wasn't here."

Sam sighed and did just that. He prepped his face for a shave and grabbed his razor. As he slid the cheap, disposable razor down his cheek he removed a few days worth of stubble along with a thick layer of skin. Sam dropped the razor and reached for his face; pulling his hand away, he saw there was no blood or broken skin. He slowed his breathing and picked the razor up again. Gently, he placed the razor against his cheek and started again.

"Finished!" Lucifer shouted. The sudden outburst caused Sam to dig the razor deeper into his flesh than he anticipated. Blood started to trickle out from Sam's jawline.

"I'm a fast reader," Lucifer stood and leaned in close. "You're bleeding."

The devil reached over, wiped the blood off of Sam's face, and then licked his bloody finger.

"Mmm, tasty. Just a hint of demon blood these days."

Sam opened his mouth to comment, then thought better of it. He continued shaving with the devil peering over his shoulder. He managed to only nick himself three more times in the process. Once finished, he reached into the shower and started heating up the water. Growing up he always appreciated his visits to Bobby's for multiple reasons, one of those being the never-ending supply of steaming hot water.

"Do you mind?" Sam asked as he looked back and forth between Lucifer and the shower.

"Sam, you can scrub that body of yours all you want, but you and I both know you'll never be able to wash away the filth within."

Sam sighed. He tried to sound annoyed, but really when Lucifer would make those snide little comments they hurt more than he wanted to admit. After all, Satan had been in his brain. He knew every thought Sam had ever entertained.

"Hop in. Water's hot as hell." The devil said with a little laugh. He sat back down on the toilet seat lid. "I'll wait here with your towel."

Sam wanted Lucifer out. Out of the bathroom. Out of his mind. But from the looks of things, he wasn't going anywhere. Sam played with the hem of his sleep shirt for a second.

"No need for modesty. Not after all we've been through."

Sam's face flushed red with embarrassment and anger. As much as he hated to admit it…the devil was right. Besides there was a 50% chance that the devil wasn't even there and this was all just the creation of his broken brain. No need to be embarrassed in front of a hallucination. He quickly stripped down and stepped into the shower. He closed his eyes and spent the next ten minutes trying to tune out Lucifer's singing.

"Morning." Sam said sitting down at the breakfast table.

"Here. Eat." Dean said sliding a plate of food towards his brother, "I sure as hell can't."

Sam looked to Bobby with a little smile in the corner of his lips.

"Yer bleeding," Bobby said.

Dean reached for Sam's face, but Sam jerked his head back instinctively.

"Little old to be cutting your face up that much during a morning shave Sammy," Dean said.

"Old razor." Sam said.

"Here, let me –"

"No, it's fine. They're small cuts."

"Sam –"

"I said I'm fine."

"Soo…" Bobby said, "we think Cas gave Dean his grace before being taken out by those Leviathans. With the grace, Dean is able to exhibit angel-like abilities and qualities without actually being an angel. We've been talking about whether or not Dean is a regular mortal or if he can only be taken out with an angel blade, but it's not something we really feel like putting to the test. 'Nuther thing we don't know is if this power will fade or not. Don't know if it will last forever or if he'd keep needing more and more of it in order to keep his angelic powers like you did with…" Bobby cut himself off.

"Like I did with the demon blood." Sam said in a small voice.

"All Bobby's saying is, we don't really know what's up." Dean said. "In the meantime, we'll just conduct business as usual. As long as you're feeling up to it."

"I'm good." Sam said. He took a big bite of breakfast to prove that he had an appetite and everything was kosher.

"That's good." Dean said, watching his baby brother try to pull the wool over his eyes, "but you know if you're ever not good, that's fine too."

Sam nodded, looking unconvinced.

"You boys should hang around for a while," Bobby said. "There's no need to go rushing off when we don't know what kind of mess we have ahead of us."

Both Winchesters nodded in agreement.

The day passed slowly. Bobby buried himself in books and research. Sam tried to help for a while but every time he started reading he devil would blow the pages back and forth so that Sam couldn't even finish one page. He decided to go keep Dean company in the garage.

"You finally realize that research is boring?" Dean asked.

"Just felt like I could use a change of venue," Sam said taking a seat. "Hey, speaking of venues. You remember that time you took me to that Michigan Music Festival?"

"Of course," Dean smiled. "How could I forget."

"It's weird. I hadn't thought about it in years and then last night I had the most vivid dream about it. It was like we were back there again."

"Huh. Random."

"Yeah," Sam said. He picked up a tool and started fiddling with it. "You know, that was probably the most fun I ever had as a teenager."

"What? Come on Sammy, don't tell me you had more fun hanging out in bars with hot chicks than you did at your mathletes tournament!"

"Jerk." Sam smiled and threw a dirty rag at Dean.

"Bitch."

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