Lucifer found it utterly humiliating pulling out a cell phone to contact his little brother.
To be true he hated it because he felt terrible human in such situations, it was uncomfortable to him typing any strictly prescribed sequence of numbers on this puny, digital box and listen to the monotonous hooting that overused his patience more than once.
But he had not plenty other ways to get in touch with Gabriel that fast. For about seven trillion years, his brothers and sisters had put on 'deaf ears' when Lucifer wanted to reach them through the angel radar. The experience of such ignorance was not to be shaken off so easily, especially not if you squatted several eternities in a cage and had plenty of time to think about it and get angry ...
Lucifer could barely suppress a delighted sigh, when the stop of tones meant that the call was accepted.
¨ Casa de Winchester – We'll kill what you fear! ¨ the cheerful voice of the youngest of all the Archangels echoed to the listener and Lucifer had to hold strong in itself, not to toss the phone abruptly into the next corner.
Many unflattering expressions located in his (basically Nick's) brain, but he pulled himself together, so that none of them impounded his speech center.
¨ Hello, Gabe. ¨ he greeted with a sepulchral voice. He told himself not to scream constantly, which is why he sounded muffled.
Immediately there was silence on the other end of the line. Awfully quietness.
¨ Hey, Lucy. ¨ it then came after a while, definitely quieter than at the beginning, somehow cautious. ¨ What is it? ¨.
Lucifer 's cut short fingernails clawed deeper into the plastic shell of the cordless phone.
¨ What is it? ¨ he repeated, and the sarcasm hovered formally in the air before his eyes, ¨ Oh, just the usual. The kitchen looks like hell, the postman is an asshole, Sam wants to leave me because of you and then collapsed - ¨
¨ He collapsed? ¨ it echoed clearly emotional from the mouthpiece.
The cold, disgusting mushy lump of jealousy slipped like a hissing snake in Lucifer's chest and curled through his veins. It took him a few seconds to get back to talk.
¨ Yes, he did. ¨
He began to tap a simple four-stroke rhythm with the knuckles of his right hand on the dresser, on which the telephone was enthroned.
¨ Would you please explain to me why he is suddenly so weak? He already stumbled in the kitchen once and then fell in the hallway. EXPLAIN. This. To. Me. ¨
Silence on the line. Not even the sound of breathing could be heard.
Sure,Lucifer thought to himself, angels do not have to breathe.
¨ Listen, I don't care if you slept with him or if you're engaged you or if you plan to spend your honeymoon in Malibu plans. ¨ he said sternly (although he DID care, of course) ¨ What now counts for me is Sam. OnlySam, get it? I want to know what you hide from me, and why it's not good for him. Do YOU have something to do with his condition? ¨
Lucifer secretely swore to throw Gabriel into the Red Sea, tied to a rock including the size of the Statue of Liberty, if a 'yes' should follow after his last question.
But the answer was more different than the devil expected. His little brother ... laughed. Yes, he laughed, but his laugh came from none cheerful nature but of a melancholy variant. A sad, tired laugh.
A rattling laugh.
¨ He has still not told you, right? ¨
Lucifer drew in a sharp breath. So there was something. Something that had made him hesitate. Something that totally did not fit to Sam's behaviour. Some truth behind all the lies. It relieved him almost - but ONLY almost.
¨ What didn't he tell me? ¨ he asked threatening.
He could almost feel Gabriel shaking his head and giving him a pitiful look. He heard him sigh.
¨ The doctors have warned him that such attacks could occur after the treatment. I told him he should take it slow, wait a few more days but you know our golden boy - He is very stubborn when it comes to such things.¨
Lucifer's hand that had tumbled to the four-stroke engine, switched to eight time.
¨ What are the doctors for? Why doctors? ¨
The phone crunched in his fingers as roasting chestnuts did over the fire.
¨ Okay, I will tell you, if you just promise me one thing ... ¨
Lucifer grinded his jaw.
¨ And what would that be? ¨ he asked suspiciously.
¨ Don't be angry with Sammy. ¨ Gabriel replied softly. ¨ He only wished the best for you. ¨
The devil snorted. However, the pretended noise could not ignore the fact that he felt uncomfortable.
¨ I could never be mad at him. Not for long.¨ he corrected harshly, leaning a little closer to the phone till his breath warmed the plastic. ¨ Now. Begin. ¨
And Gabriel began.
As I slowly get consciousness again after what felt like years I wish for exactly two things: a truck of paracetamol and a bucket in which I can vomit today's lunch.
Groaning, I blink through half-opened eyelids and wait until the dim image scraps connect to some sort of sharp surface, gain a clearer color fullness and my heart finds its way back from my carotid artery back into the chest.
A sour taste is circulating on my tongue but I swallow it down the throat, inhale the stale air in the room like a parched vagabond a couple of life-giving drops born of cool spring water. Soon I see the mint green wallpaper with the thin-skinned foam clouds and the beech woodh shelves piled up to the right side while on the left a gigantic, distorted painting of a humorously copied Mona Lisa claims its place.
Below me, I feel a relatively soft mattress and the warm smell of peppermint and canopy. I am located in the guest room of the house, no doubt. The one room that was the refuge for the previous owner getting away from his wife at night. Maybe his ghost has brought me here…
You think about strange things, if you previously believed and dreamed, the world would burst into pieces like an ugly piñata and instead of candy, illness and bloody entrails pour over your head. Very strange things ...
I do not need to turn around or stretch my view to the open door to know that Lucifer stands in its frame and looks at me like a hawk. His presence is like a blanket of flesh that wraps around my perception. How long does he probably stay there and watch me sleep in comatose?
In space there is no clock, which I had the last few hours to read, but there is heaven as ever a single, black cloth stretched over the roofs of the world.
¨ I spoke with Gabriel and told him that you won't come back to the bunker today. You stay here, don't try to argue. ¨ he says and there is no hint of hostility found in Satan's baritone. No gloating, no satisfaction about my miserable condition. He does not know, but I'm very grateful about that.
Of course, I open my mouth nevertheless. He can't dictate me to stay here so easily - after all I'm a grown man, not twelve years old! I have rights!
¨ But - ¨
¨ Sam, you look really sick. ¨ he judges rudely. In his eyes glows a dangerous spark, like freshly-fied tar. ¨ Do you seriously believe I would take the risk and let you break down somewhere in the American Outlaw? ¨ he asks with a roaring undertone.
He could lift his hands on his hips and wear a cooking apron around his waist and he would have been the perfect cast of 'over-protective mother and housewife'. Irreverent to think this about an archangel, sure, but not an impossible scenario.
¨ Kansas is not the end of the world. ¨ I disagree laxly.
¨ But close. ¨ he says. A ridiculous argument. Stubborn, miserable.
¨ Not true. ¨ I protest and he twists his irritated eyes to the ceiling as if he was imploring the heavens for help.
I can almost formulate his thoughts.Ohplease, please, Dad, why didn't you put some more brain mass in my 'Somehow-Ex-and-then -not-again' boyfriend? Dumb people are very arduous!
¨ You see? You whine. You always whine like a baby when you're not well. ¨ Lucifer doubtfully tilts his head. ¨ Or when you're drunk. ¨ he adds precariously, although he has rarely seen me drunk – I'm not Dean. In that case, Castiel could surely tell some more stories.
"Luc – "
He raises his hand flatly.
¨ No. ¨
And this time it sounds very determined.
I sigh. Well, apparently I have no other choice anyway. Every muscle in my body feels as bricked in plaster, so an escape out of the windows will certainly not represent a viable option.
Even though ...
¨ Don't you even dare to think about it. ¨ he growls at me strictly.
... Fuck. Sometimes I think Lucifer can still read my mind, if he wishes. I mumble unintelligible fragments of words. Then I decide that complaints are too strenuous and I remain silent in bed instead, Lucifer being a few feet away from me.
If I were honest with myself, I'd love to lean at his side, my back to his chest, his hands on my temple, rubbing away this goddamn migraine until his fingertips rest in my hair, on my cheeks, my lips…But that would be a very scornful pleading, if I think back to the previous hours.
My goal was - is to separate myself from him. On this day, before the midnight hour. I failed at this on my own and maybe I will not even make it tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, or next week or next year.
This is not for Lucifer would force me to stay with him, he has said himself, he would like to stop me, but would be afraid of my hate - it is up to me. For I will not really Lucifer continued and I never wanted to. Not since I got to know him outside of the apocalypse. Not since I am aware that he embodies more than just the meaning of the fallen archangel or Mephisto or Beelzebub or as he is called otherwise - I understand him.
His motives, his grief, his sadness over the exile and the loss of his family, the betrayal of his big brother... Nothing is completely evil or good in this world. Not angels, not demons, not humans. Even the devil has a heart to break.
It's a shame ... I guess if Satan would actually be just an incompetent, oversized asshole, it would not be that hard for me to hate him and throw out of my life...
Too bad, really.
¨ Do you still want me? ¨
The question is like oil and a single match is enough to bring it to ignite. But it's all the same anyway, right? There is no wrong or right anymore. No black or white. Everything is grey.
¨ Hm? ¨ makes Lucifer, but he has excellent ears. I swallow drily.
"I ask, because ... "
I close my eyes. What do I really have to lose? My pride? My manhood? No, none of that.
I am free in one of the gloomiest kinds that are out there.
¨ Because I would not want me anymore, if I were you. I would flay me and shoot my aching body to the moon. ¨
I don't cheat. Each syllable corresponds to my earnest. To my surprise I hear Lucifer sigh instead of agreeing with me in euphoria.
¨ Oh Sam ... sometimes you're pretty stupid. You know that? ¨ he says, half-tenderly, half-honestly scolding.
¨ Yes. ¨
And that's not even a lie. I know it only too well.
¨ When did you want to tell me? ¨
¨ What? ¨
I pretend I had not heard him.
¨ When, Sam? ¨
I fix an indeterminate point on the ceiling. Maybe I'm lucky and can find a niche with a spider web, I can focus with attention.
... Damn it. No spider web. Of course not. I blame my own mania for cleaning...
¨ No idea what you're talking about. ¨ I surmise, half aloud.
Slowly I feel quiet uncomfortable in the stomach, and this time this is not about ordinary nausea ... rather the 'You are-caught-and-now-you are in the soup' nausea as any decent teen in his life has felt sometime.
Lucifer is relentless.
And I'm in a situation where I am not able to offer him a worthy stand up. Not good. NOT good.
Where's the colt when you need it...
¨ For how long have you known it? ¨
Yet another question which I will not answer.
"Lucifer –"
¨ How. Fucking. Long. ¨
I resignedly sink back into the pillows.
¨ …For the past three weeks. ¨ I reply eventually.
So, it's out. At least half, or more. Ever since he has mentioned to have contacted Gabriel, I cherish the idea that he knows everything anyway.
Unfortunately, Gabriel is an angel who can not shut his mouth - especially not when his big brother waving mental fists.
¨ Three weeks. ¨ Lucifer repeats in a treacherous calm voice and I push myself deeper into the mattress.
I turn my face to him. He crosses his arms.
¨ Three weeks in which you meet with Gabriel behind my back, being untraceable for several days. ¨ he speculates aloud, even casually. ¨ Strange coincidences there are, aren't they?¨.
Yes, of course. Coincidences. The devil has a twisted sense of humor.
I bite my lower lip.
¨ I wanted to tell you. Really. ¨ I mutter apologetically, although that is a lie. If everything had gone according to plan, he would have never known about this. All this.
¨ Aha. ¨ he makes as if he'd confirm his thoughts. ¨ Approximately at your and Gabe's wedding? While you wear a hat hiding your bald head? ¨ He exhales slowly. ¨ I'm not stupid, you know? ¨
¨ Stop this shit, Lu - ¨
¨ No, YOU will stop this shit now, Sam. ¨ he interrupts me harshly. His eyes sparkle frosty. "I'm damn tired of your silence and your secrecy."
I nod vaguely. Yes, I can understand that. I can understand it even very well.
I would react the same when Dean had concealed something from me (again). But this is not about my brother, not even about Gabriel now. This is about Lucifer and me. And the transience of my existence. The expiry of my human body.
¨ I had to complete the first irradiation yesterday. ¨ I say, having no real context to connect on. ¨ That's why I'm so ... well ... exhausted. ¨
Lucifer does not even nod.
¨ And why did you want to keep the cancer secret from me? ¨ he asks dryly. (Slowly but surely I feel like I'm in an interrogation.)
¨ I didn't want you to heal me. ¨ Absently I luge to my immaculate palms. ¨ How you did when the pieces of porcelain scratched my skin. ¨
¨ And why not? ¨
I take a deep breath. And one more. And one more.
¨ Because I can not leave me on your angel powers and wants. ¨ I tell him gently, ¨ In general, it is not good for me to use any spells and concoctions to prolong my life artificially. If I cannot make surviving on my own, I should not continue the law of this existence. In this regard, Darwin has experienced quite a few plausible approaches. ¨
¨ This is nonsense. ¨
¨ It's not . People are perishable goods, Lucifer. And they spoil quickly. They are not made for centuries, possibly for a single but not more. ¨
¨ I'd rather live a few more years with you than an eternity without you. ¨
¨ That's exactly what concerns me the most. ¨ I say and sigh deeply.
¨ I don't want my death to burden, don't you understand? I don't want you to suffer because of our separation. You have already suffered enough. And in heaven we can't see each other again, since He has locked it up for you. ¨
Lucifer then blurts out an indignant snort. He does not seem thrilled. Well, it does not wonder me.
¨ Is that your defense for this scrap a la *I cheat on you with another guy and behave as the most obnoxious bastard on earth*? Did you really think it would hurt me less to lose you in this way, rather than one that goes hand in hand with your natural death? ¨
¨ I often witnessed how the people I loved died, Lucifer. ¨ I say hoarsely. ¨ It is a gnawing, burning pain and the wound created from it can never heal. Never completely. If I had built a protective wall around my heart, I would have made sure not to let anyone come so close to me, it would not have had so thrown off course as it has been many times the case. ¨
In fact, the people we love the most, also can give us the bitterest anguish at the same time.
This knowledge is an old hat by today's standards, but who has learned it the hard way, what fraction the loss of a loved one can cause, knows what I'm talking about. They know it too well.
I don't envy anyone for this knowledge.
¨ You talk like an old, bitter man, Sam. ¨ throws Lucifer before me, ¨ But you're still young. And if you beat cancer on your own, then - ¨
¨ Yes, THEN. ¨ I interrupt loudly and I put all the rest of force in my voice that I have kept hidden in some forgotten bit of my body before my powerlessness started. ¨ Then I might live another ten years. And ten more. Maybe 25, if I'm lucky - so long till a monster catches me on the hunt or a harpy cuts my neck or the doctor finds new metastases or I have a car accident after shopping. OR I'm getting really old and my brain will ne decomposed by Alzheimer's - wonderful prospects.¨
I take a deep breath, trying to mentally calm my accelerated heartbeat. A drop of sweat hangs in my left eyebrow. Lucifer's worried look tells me that my face has probably started to faint to chalk white.
No matter, therefore I can not take care of me now. What must be, has to be done.
¨ There are endless ways for us humans to die, but only one to be born. But angels never end - for you are timeless creatures. Beings who possess a limit, can only bring you grief. You have to understand me! ¨
¨ You cannot just decide over my head, what is best for me, Sam. I'm a fucking archangel, not a silly child! ¨
¨ You are a child. ¨ I call at him and my excitement would have almost indulged me to sit up.
I fail miserably, falling back with a groan. Every slight movement promotes the dizziness and nausea.
Damn, I hate chemo-therapy.
¨ I don't care how many thousands of years you have endured, for me you remain as a child who has been hurt and suffered scarrings of the worst kind and I want to protect this child from further scarring at all costs. ¨ I stroke my hair from my forehead. It is immersed in acidic sweat. ¨ The cancer is only one of these signs, to open one's eyes to the future, you know? And I've noticed that no matter how much I may love you there's no future for us to give. No future that your kind is appropriate to. So, the present is a lie and I will not live this lie anymore, neither should you. I love you too much for this, so there is no other choice left for me.¨
After the last letter has escaped my lips I grab after sufficient oxygen for the first time so that my lung does not collapse.
I'm drenched in sweat.
And Lucifer?
Lucifer stands there like a statue, his face opaque, the term mystery in his eyes. This image is more, there are countless minutes. Then he turns around, turns his back on me silently and leaves the room. I do not know why this reaction fears me so much but it does, it gives me even terrible fear.
¨ Lucifer? Hey, Lucifer, where are you going? ¨ I call after him as loud as I can.
No reply. In my mind I bounce my clenched fists into the mattress. Fuck. Fuck!
Sitting up was not a very good idea at the first attempt and it is not now, but I'll be screwed if I cannot support me at least on my elbows. A groan of my hand, a squeak from the side of the bed and my upper body lifts millimeter by millimeter into higher realms. Although my arms tremble and my bones feel like they are wrapped in cremated ox fat and bacon but hey, is a crumb not like a feast for the hungry? Same idea here.
But the sporadic feeling of triumph of my paltry success is washed away abruptly as an inhuman ripping sound comes from one of the more remote areas. As if one pushes apart two halves of a zipper with unbearable violence.
As if you cut through flesh. Human flesh. It shakes me from the inside.
¨ Lucifer, oh my - ¨ I lack the words in horror.
You know what's funny about the human mind? Its premonitions.
Sometimes you wake up on a normal monday morning, see the sun piping hot shines with about 20 degrees into the room and then, out of nowhere, you think Grandpa is dead. And you do not even need a clairvoyant talent or other spiritual skills. Premonitions like this are rooted in the deepest core of our being and report to occasionally speak up when they involve health or the constitution of one of those who mean something to us. The ones we love. Always only the ones we love.
The human mind is often predisposed to be very inhuman.
At this moment, Lucifer staggers back into the room and confirmes my premonition with a single glance. His figure is painted like watercolor but maybe that just occurs due to the limited vison my lachrymose veil offers.
"No." ... Maybe I speak that word, maybe I sob it. It makes no sense anyway. The blood forms a crescent-shaped swath on Lucifer's chest and shines in its red-faced freshness. His hands are full of this red, brushing his cheeks with copper splashes.
He smiles at me. Warm. I think that smile is the worst of all.
¨ You said you love me. ¨ he says, and his voice sounds amazingly in focus, happy, if there would not be this torn apart expression in his eyes that destroys the bright blue of his iris, leaving it in shadowy shards. ¨Less than ten minutes before you said for the first time that you frankly love me, do you even realize this? What that means to me? ¨
His questions meet deaf ears but unfortunately the heart has no ears that could close. I suppose a rattling breath after breath. Focusing the sparkling container in his left hand, capturing my whole shocked attention.
¨ No, Lucifer. No, you can't do that! ¨ I whimper and I would not have sounded otherwise, if I had had been nine years old. ¨ Your g-grace, for God's sake, put your grace back to where you've pulled it out ... . ¨
He has ripped apart his grace. His. Own. Grace. With his own hands. He is no longer an archangel. No heavenly creature.
He is no longer immortal. I can see it.
Lucifer just looks at me. Swallowing.
¨ No. ¨
And the gentleness in his voice is not childish. It is almost grotesque.
¨ Lucifer, please - ¨ and now I let the tears freely run down my cheeks. Hot and guilty. Freed.
¨ No. ¨ He shakes his head. ¨ I had to decide. And I chose you. ¨ His gaze falls on the glowing vial in his hands. ¨ I have often heard that people give away their hearts, if they confess their love for someone. This here ¨ He raises his grace on a leather strap, he must have laced recently on the vial, allows it to swing like a pendulum in the air. "This is myheart. I love you, Sam, and I give you my heart. Do you want it? Do you want to me? Even though I'm just a… man? ¨
IHe leaves me free choice.
I have cancer, tried to make him believe I would cheat on him with his brother, accused him of eternity - and still, he leaves me free choice.
That's insane, isn't it? No, that's stupid. Incredibly stupid.
Especially from someone who is older than the earth on which we walk.
But at the same time ... a definitive proof of love. More importantly, a vote of confidence.
Like a petrified board I lie in bed and listen to the pulse throbbing through my veins. A pulse that will become weaker and colder over the years. Skin, which will wither. Hair that will turn gray. Life that will die.
And love that lasts forever because it was deprived of eternity. God have mercy.
But everything must come to an end. Even death.
Then I lick over my papery lips and give Lucifer the answer he wanted to hear out of my mouth right when we met for the first time.
¨Yes. ¨
-THE END-
Hello to all Readers :)
This is the end of my little AU-story, based on a little situation from the tumblr blog askluciferthefallen who inspired me to write this. Check out the blog , it's very nice^^
Thanks to everyone for reading. I hope that you liked it^^ If yes (or no, depending on your opinion) please let me know in your comments/critics
Greets,
Rose of Brisingr