Chapter 8: Thunderstruck

Pairings: None, really

Warnings: Mild language

Spoilers: This is getting redundant, I think. I'll just update when the new episode is out?

Thanks again to anyone who's read this far, and an extra thanks to those who've reviewed! Please enjoy!

Sam woke up in a sweat, memories of Hell still licking at his mind. He had had flashes of images which he could piece into a coherent whole, but even as he cautiously reviewed them, the floodgates in his mind allowed no more leaks through. He sighed with subdued relief; things never went right in the long run, but they were going right at the moment. That was an okay start to the day.

Dean and Cas weren't in the room, and that was unusual. Sam stood and went to the window, pulling the curtain back just enough to see outside. It was cloudy and still. There was basically no weather at all. He turned, quickly scanning to room for a note, car keys, anything that would give him a hint at where his overprotective brother had gone.

Satisfied that there were no clues in their room, the hunter went to the bathroom for a drink and to wash his face, which was still beaded uncomfortably with sweat.

A sound like rustling cloth from behind him caused Sam to turn, ready to ask Castiel where he'd been. The words died on his lips, of course, as Castiel was not the angel who had appeared. "Hi Sammy," Lucifer said softly. His shoulders were slouched and his expression was tired.

"What the Hell happened to you?" Sam asked.

The angel stumbled over to the bed and let himself fall heavily. "I killed the leviathan," he replied simply.

"You never did tell me what that entails," the hunter replied, not feeling particularly sympathetic for the devil's current state, especially after his more recent burst of memories.

Lucifer sighed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. "It involves pinning it with an archangel's blade, and opening the gate to purgatory on it, among other things." He explained irritably.

"On it, like…"

"Drawing the sigil on it, yes. It tears the beast out of existence," Lucifer replied.

"But there wasn't an eclipse last night," Sam realized out loud.

"No, there wasn't. Which meant the whole process was exhausting. So if you'd kindly stop speaking for a minute," he said with a quick glare in Sam's direction.

Sam's lip twitched into a little frown, but he sighed and walked to the other bed, perching tensely on the edge of it and watching Lucifer intently. Several minutes passed, with Sam's own breathing all he could hear. There was a strange, tense calm in the room, and Sam wasn't sure that he had ever felt this sort of sensation before.

He didn't have time to investigate the feeling though, as the sound of a key scraping into the lock on the room's door broke the silence. Sam's head snapped up at the sound, and he began to panic.

"Get out," he hissed at Lucifer.

"I can't, unless I walk out," was the very tired reply. The angel hadn't moved at all since sitting on the bed, and he sounded slightly concerned. Maybe it was because if he couldn't even zap out of there, he'd have a lot of trouble fighting Cas if it came to that.

Before he realized what he was doing, Sam stood, stepping between the entrance and Lucifer. Dean swung the door open, pulling his key out of the lock with one hand and holding a bag of take out from a local burger joint in the other.

Then Dean saw Lucifer. The keys and food dropped in a second, and he had a gun whipped out in the next. "Sammy, move," he demanded.

"Dean, hold on a second," he began.

"What, are you going to defend Satan now? Move or I'll shoot him through your shoulder."

Sam's mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly," he replied with ice in his tone, and Sam knew it was true.

The younger Winchester took a deep, shaky inhale, but he stayed where he was between Dean and Lucifer. The edges of his vision flickered with images of Hell, and he thought for the briefest moment that he could smell rot and sulfur and burnt flesh. He shrugged them off.

The mattress behind him creaked, and before Sam could react, Dean fired. Sam knew what to expect from a bullet to a large muscle group. A cold jolt at first, which surprised but also gave false calm. Then the burning waves of pain as the body realized it had been punctured and that there was a foreign object displacing delicate tissue.

But that wasn't what Sam felt. Instead, it must have been what Lucifer felt.

The angel roared and bent over with the pain, pushing a hand to the wound above his eye. He glared at Dean, teeth bared and face running with blood. And with no warning at all he dashed forward in a blur, pushing Dean against the room's door by the neck, though not before the older Winchester had emptied three more bullets into his chest and shoulder.

"What the fuck was that, Dean? A bullet can't kill me, but it can kill your beloved brother." The devil's voice was a hiss through his teeth. Dean couldn't respond, as his breath was being forcibly blocked. He still managed to mouth 'fuck you,' however.

Sam rushed over, grabbing Lucifer's shoulder and pulling back.

A human shouldn't have been able to drag him off, so when Lucifer stepped away from Dean, it was all his decision. Sam was at a loss for what to do, because it seemed to him that the devil had just saved him from his brother.

"Would've just hit his arm," Dean choked out with a cough. "Worth it to shoot you in your smug face."

Lucifer didn't reply, but neither did his glare relax. Dean took several moments to breathe before getting back to business. "Cas, get your ass down here," he coughed.

A rustling sound whipped out of nowhere as a second angel descended into the tiny motel room. "Lucifer," Castiel said with surprise, reaching into his coat for his blade.

"Could everyone just calm the Hell down?" Sam demanded, stepping again in front of Lucifer. "He isn't going to do anything. If he wanted to kill any of us, he could."

"Doesn't look that way to me," Dean interjected.

"Then he would have waited until he could before coming here. Same goes for anything else you think he'll do. Whether he's here or anywhere else, he won't hurt us." He argued.

"The chance that he won't kill the three of us at the moment doesn't mean that we shouldn't kill him, Sam," Castiel said, drawing out a shimmering archangel's blade.

That was more difficult to argue against. Sam opened and closed his mouth several times as he searched for an appropriate reason not to kill the devil. "He knows how to destroy leviathans. He killed the last one," Sam said finally.

"How," Castiel asked Lucifer directly. The devil said nothing. "You will answer me, or I will force the answer from you."

This statement made Satan laugh. "You'll torture me? Is that what you mean to say?" Castiel faltered at this.

"Dean, he's only helped us. Even if we don't trust him, he's only been useful so far," Sam said, trying to be practical.

"Right, so what, we keep him around until he beefs back up and starts killing people?"

Sam frowned. "I seem to remember Cas killed quite a few people a couple months ago."

"That was the leviathans in him. Cas is our friend, Sam. Don't compare him to the fucking devil," Dean growled.

"Does it matter if he's the devil, Dean? This isn't black and white like Sunday school. God's an absentee asshole, angels kill each other, so why can't the devil do something good?" Sam demanded.

"It isn't about what he is! It's about what he does! What he wants!" Dean shouted. "Damnit Sam, you're making excuses for the guy who admitted he wants to wipe every human off the Earth. What has he been telling you that made you this crazy?"

Sam was speechless. He didn't feel like he was being lied to, but it never feels like you're being lied to. The more he thought about it, in fact, the more he knew he wasn't making any sense. It didn't matter that Lucifer wanted God and the heavenly host to go down burning; what mattered was that he hated humanity and he had the power to do something about it.

The weight of a hand rested on his shoulder, and Lucifer stepped forward to be beside the younger Winchester. "You trust me because your soul and my grace have been muddled together. I cannot lie to you. I think you know that."

It was true. But by no means did an inability to lie make Lucifer trustworthy or benevolent. So why did Sam feel he should protect him?

"Because we're connected Sammy," the angel said with an apologetic smile.

"Okay, you keep saying that," Dean said irritably "and I know you think you and my brother are butt-buddies for life, but we're not buying it."

"Sam, remember how I told you Nick here won't start to rot until you die?" Lucifer asked Sam, ignoring Dean's input.

The younger Winchester nodded, frowning. "Yeah," he replied carefully.

"You seem to think that's one-sided."

Sam's mouth hung open as he realized what that meant, exactly.

"Enough of this crap. Cas," Dean said, and the angel stepped forward, raising his blade.

"Cas! Dean! Stop it," Sam said, raising his hands and stepping into the way. "If you kill him…I die too."

Hope you enjoyed! I shouldn't be too long with the new chapter.