It was supposed to be so easy.
But nothing ever was.
At least, not where Lucifer’s life was concerned.
How was he supposed to know that his brother would suspect things were amiss? How was he supposed to know that he’d scar not only him for life, but his best friend as well? No one was supposed to find him until it was too late. It should have been easy.
But it wasn’t.
Especially now that he’d met Sam.
Sirens…a voice Lucifer didn’t recognize yelling in his ear…callused, yet soft hands shaking his shoulder…another voice that belonged to Cassie…
“Wake up! Lucifer, you have to wake up!” The voice he didn’t recognize was pleading with him.
‘I don’t want to wake up!’ Lucifer wanted to shout back. ‘Why else would I have done this?”
“There’s too much blood.” Cassie. Guilt surged through Lucifer’s entire being. He hadn’t meant for Castiel to be the one who found him.
“Why aren’t they in here yet?!” The other voice asked, panic and frustration evident in his voice. Who was he and what did he mean to Lucifer for his voice to sound like that?
Despite himself, he opened his eyes enough to catch a glimpse of brown hair. Wracking his brain for an answer as to who this person could possibly be, he was suddenly surprised by the most beautiful pair of brown eyes he had ever seen meeting his before everything went black.
Where the fuck…?
“Luce?” Castiel’s voice sounded small, almost child-like, from beside him. He was nearly Lucifer’s height, and that child-like tone did not fit the deep baritone voice that came from his twenty year old little brother’s mouth.
“Hi,” Lucifer forced the word out, turning his head so he could see him. An IV was in his hand and his arms were wrapped. Failed…he’d…
“Cas, I got you something to eat. You have to…” A very, almost freakishly, tall man that Lucifer didn’t recognize stood at the end of his bed. “You’re awake.” Lucifer met the stranger’s gaze head on, about to bite back with some form of retort, to defend…
That hadn’t been a dream?
“Yeah,” Lucifer breathed instead, before shaking himself. “Not that that was…” Remembering Castiel, he stopped himself from finishing the thought.
“Part of the plan?” The stranger said bluntly, but not unkindly.
“Sam!” Castiel hissed. Lucifer didn’t even have to look at him to know what look he was giving the other man. Sam, apparently.
“Sorry,” Sam mumbled, shoving the food in his hands at Castiel. Castiel let it fall into his lap, still glaring. Sam shoved his hands in his pockets and looked anywhere but the two of them.
“He didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Lucifer finally pointed out, looking at Castiel again. He was leveled with the smitey gaze next, and decided to follow Sam’s lead and look away.
“I’ll inform the doctor that you’re awake,” Castiel finally said, sounding tired now. He got up and breezed from the room, trenchcoat billowing out behind him as he went.
“He hasn’t taken his coat off?” Lucifer found himself asking. Sam shot a glance at him.
“I learned not to ask,” Sam finally said, awkwardly walking over and lowering himself into Castiel’s chair. “I’m Sam, by the way.”
“Lucifer. But I believe you knew that,” Lucifer deadpanned. The corner of Sam’s mouth twitched.
“Are you in pain?” The sudden turn in the conversation threw Lucifer for a minute, and he actually had to think about the question. Was he in pain?
For the first time, he noticed the dull ache in his arms. Glancing down at the bandages, he shrugged a little, and the movement made him wince.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Sam said matter-of-factly.
“Do we have to talk about this?” Lucifer bit out. Sam, surprisingly, didn’t look shocked by the aggression, and stayed silent instead of pointing it out or pressing further.
“You’re Cassie’s roommate,” Lucifer said, finally remembering that he had indeed, heard of Sam, just had never met him.
“Yeah, since freshman year. I thought he was weird at first, but he’s grown on me,” Sam said lightly.
“He has that effect on people,” Lucifer agreed, “he’s an odd one, Castiel.”
“I think he’s growing on my brother, too,” Sam murmured, more to himself than to Lucifer.
“What was that?” Lucifer asked, but he knew he had heard him clearly.
“Nothing,” Sam said innocently, studying his lap. “What’s taking Cas so long?”
“Hell if I know,” Lucifer grumbled. “I’m surprised the doctor isn’t in here with bells on.”
Sam, mercifully, didn’t acknowledge the last part of what he said, instead staying silent once more.
“I failed,” Lucifer found himself saying after ten minutes of awkward silence. Castiel still wasn’t back with the doctor. “I can’t believe I failed.” Sam silently reached over and put his hand on top of Lucifer’s, clearly not knowing what to do or say. “How could I have…”
Lucifer wasn’t aware that he was crying until it was too late, but Sam, bless his fucking heart, just silently rested his hand on top of Lucifer’s and didn’t say a word.
“Get out.” The words tasted like bile on Lucifer’s tongue, but he hurled them at the man standing before him anyways.
“Don’t call me that,” Lucifer hissed, “don’t. You don’t get to walk back in here six months after you fucked me over and act like nothing has changed.”
“Get the hell out of my house!” Lucifer screamed. He probably looked deranged, but he didn’t care. He was reaching his breaking point.
He’d be better off dead.
Anything would be better than feeling the way he had these last few years, only made ten times worse by the pain the man standing before him had caused.
“Get out, Mikey,” Lucifer whispered, turning away from him, “just go. I don’t…”
There was a soft thud, as if Michael had sat something down, but his footsteps retreated from the living room, echoing out into the front hallway before the front door opened and shut.
Turning, Lucifer found a picture frame that he thought he’d thrown away, but Michael must have taken it with him when he left. A hot, boiling rage rose up inside him and before he could change his mind, he was picking it up and hurling it on the floor. The glass shattered, and something inside Lucifer broke too as he dropped to his knees, finally breaking.
A piece of the broken glass near his knee caught his attention. He hadn’t done something like that in years, but…
“Wake up.” The voice was soft, yet insistent, in his ear. Lucifer found himself yanked from sleep, unaware that he’d even drifted off until he was being woken up.
He was still in this stupid fucking hospital, on suicide watch for the next forty eight hours, and they still probably wouldn’t let him leave then. He must have dozed off while Castiel was talking to the doctor after they’d basically informed him that after the stunt he’d pulled, he’d have no choice in anything for a long time.
“You were crying in your sleep,” Sam murmured, oblivious to Lucifer’s inner musings. “I…I didn’t know what else to…”
“Thank you,” Lucifer stopped him before he could say anything more. Taking the hint, Sam went silent. Lucifer finally noticed Castiel in the chair on the other side of him, asleep with his head on his hand.
“What time is it?” Lucifer tried to stretch.
“After two in the morning,” Sam said quietly, adjusting himself in his chair.
“…why aren’t you asleep?” Lucifer asked, even though it was none of his business.
“I…I can’t sleep,” Sam admitted. Lucifer raised an eyebrow.
“I…I was the one who found you.”
Lucifer’s blood went cold.