endoftheverse | Lucifer's Dreamwalking

[Sammy stops on the hill, the trees behind him beautiful and lush and green, just as the memory dictated. He turns and waves at Dean, beckoning him to follow. It seems slow — the waving, the soft rustle of the leaves, the speed in which Dean can even move. Time is impossibly difficult to keep up with, and Sam's voice distorts, echoes through a tin can in Dean's ears.]

Over here, Dean! It's this way!

[And then, sharply, Sammy's leg goes out from under him. His belly hits the ground with a soft thump as the air punches out of him, leaves crunching beneath, leg dangling in the air as if on fishing line. Blood wells and spills as he looks at the big brother running towards him; scrabbling at the dirt, one word is dragged out with him as the invisible beast pulls him into the thick forest:]

Dean!

[ He runs faster, pushing himself, willing his legs to move faster, faster-- ]

Sammy, Sammy, stop--!

[ But he's not fast enough, he isn't quick enough in the dream to make it to him in time. It's like slogging through quicksand that's sucking him down, slowing his movements, making sure he has to watch, but can't assist. ]

I'm coming, Sam, just hold on!

[Run, Dean, run.

It doesn't do much good, though; by the time Dean arrives in the blood-spackled clearing, the small, limp body has been abandoned in it. The small body is pale, positioned eerily like Dean had been the day that hell hound had torn him apart and dragged him to hell; the injuries match to an unnatural degree, in a way Dean would have no memory of, no visual recollection of.

That's because Lucifer created the scene with a little help from poor Sam's memories.

It's just a little flair. A little flavor.

He leaves Dean to the scene, lets him have his terrible nightmare sincerely, before he wanders out into the clearing himself. It's just him in ol' Nick's image — he watches patiently, thoughtfully, as if he hadn't directly influenced this dream at all.]

I could bring him back for you, if you'd like.

I've done it plenty for him before, you know.

SAM!

[ Dean drops to his knees, body shaking, vividly remembering the hounds, the way they'd smelled, the way they'd torn him to pieces and dragged his soul to hell. His hands tremble violently as he reaches for his little brother, cheeks wet from tears and flushed. God, Sammy, Sammy--

This isn't how he remembers it. It's a nightmare, dragged from the hellscape that is this Dean's subconscious, it isn't real. He says it in his head over and over, repeating it like a broken record it isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real--

A voice shatters his mantra and he looks up wildly, face stained with tears, something in the back of his head telling him, without a doubt, it is Lucifer. IT has to be. ]

Get out of my head.

That's no way to greet an old friend, Dean.

[He walks closer, his expression unreadable as he eyes Dean — and then the small, lifeless figure in his arms, his expression smoothing into something a little sadder.]

Such a tragedy.

You know, the day you died like this was the day he died like this, too.

Whatever was left of the 'Sammy' you loved.

The moment you were dragged to hell, he was dragged, too — he just never had a destination to reach. Not until he found me, to free him from that torment. [He crouches down so fucking boldly, and begins to reach out to put a hand on the little body's chest.] It really does pain me that you keep giving him hope that things will end any differently...

Don't-- touch him, [ Dean snarls, clutching the little body, hauling his baby brother closer, the rage and fury catching in his throat. Don't you dare touch him, he doesn't belong to you-- ]

Get out of here with your lies.

[Lucifer sighs, drawing his hand back.

He stays crouched down in front of Dean all the same, arm slung across his knee.]

Dean, you know I'm not much for lying. It's a bit of a time-waster.

And... you know as well as I do that you've made some mistakes here, hmm? We both know you screwed the pooch on letting my brother occupy that body of yours. [He smiles sadly, shaking his head.] I'm just being honest, and you know it. You've failed every step of the way. You couldn't stop your father's death, the deals — the seals. You couldn't protect Sammy from all the creepy crawlies out there, watching him grow up, waiting for him to be mine... Couldn't save a single friend, any of your family...

You abandoned him- [He gestures to Sammy, a soft tutting to follow.] Practically fed him to hunters and demons and angels while you tucked your head in the sand with Castiel. God, Dean, they practically tore him apart, one piece at a time; he had no choice at the end of everything, to come limping over to me.

[Lucifer's slight smile widens, as he puts a hand on his own chest.]

His real family.

His other half.

[ It's true; Lucifer doesn't lie. Not that Dean has had many extensive conversations or interactions with him, but still. Honestly, sometimes Lucifer actually speaks sense and that is far scarier than lies.

But that's why the words cut, because they're true. Dean isn't perfect, never claimed to be, but he really...really fucked all this up. Like, on a global catastrophe kind of scale. He should have picked up the phone, he should have brought Sam back into his life, he should have said yes to Michael--

God, there's so many things he'd fix, he'd change if only he was given the chance. ]

Shut up, shut up.

[ He clutches the little body tighter, closer to him, lips pulling back in a snarl.

The problem is Lucifer isn't wrong - he's not wrong; Dean pushed him away, told him to pick a hemisphere, and they stayed apart. They're weaker apart, stronger together. ]

No. [ The last part, though. That strengthens him a little, and he looks up, face flushed in anger and emotion. ] I'm his family. And yeah, I messed up. But I'm here, and I'm not gonna mess up again. So if you really wanna take him over, you're gonna have to go through me.

[Lucifer looks down at the scene with pity in his eyes.

People think he's a heartless monster, but — well. He's always had a sliver of a soft spot for Sam Winchester. And you can't have a sliver of a soft spot for Sam Winchester without an additional sliver of sympathy for the brother he had become so terribly devoted to. Dean Winchester is a stubborn, ornery, frustrating fool of a human being who had miscalculated most steps in his life.

And he will continue paying the prices for those steps.

No, Lucifer isn't heartless. Not completely. He'll be sure to kill Dean Winchester with some small measure of disappointment that it had to be this way, after he paints the town a little red, stretches his wings.]

Dean, Dean, Dean... I'm sorry. But I've already taken him.

[The small body in Dean's arms is suddenly empty air. Lucifer's carrying Sammy's lifeless figure, now, too much like how a father would carry his son to bed; the head of unruly, bloodied hair is tucked under Lucifer's chin, and the arms hang limp. He almost looks like he's just tired.

He is just tired.]

We know how this ends, Dean. But don't worry — I'll take good care of him.

[Lucifer vanishes.

He leaves Dean with the hounds.]

Lucifer's Dreamwalking

cw: dream child injury

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aaand fake child death

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