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Coup D'état

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It was just a few numbers, nothing more, nothing less. Insignificant. Written across everyone’s right wrist, from the moment they were born. Some saw it as a curse,as it told them bluntly the day they were supposed to die, and right from birth, no less; others considered it a miracle, as it let them know how long they would have to complete all their goals.

For Sam, it was neither.

Some few unlucky children are born with their birth date printed on their wrists, or without any numbers at all. The sparse few of the latter group were deemed unhealthy and taken away from their parents, never to be seen or heard from again. The people had learned to turn a blind eye to these actions, not wanting to get involved; the few that pointed it out were shut down by the government.

Sam had a similar problem. Not the birth date or the lack of a date altogether, mind, but he had been getting visits from the government a week before he was due to die. Not sure whether this was the norm, Sam dismissed it, trying to convince himself that the government was trying to get more information in order to explain the weird phenomenon.

He was wrong, and he knew much better now, the situation was much worse than anyone previously thought- anyone not with “The Group” that is.

7 Days Prior To Death Date

A sharp rap on the door startled the tall man sitting wistfully in his living room. The man checked his wrist as a momentary feeling of panic twisted in his gut. A sigh of relief was the only noise he managed when the action provided him with the sight of a different date than the current one.

He glanced at the time as he walked to the door and opened it.

“Hello sir, we are looking for a Samuel Winchester”, one of the suits before him quipped in a practiced tone, and he must have thought he was nonthreatening by the way he leaned close to Sam’s doorway. Sam thought differently.

“That would be me,” Sam said with false bravado, leaning in the doorframe.

“We are with a business working with scientists to find information concerning death dates. May we come in?”

And he’d be damned if that wasn’t the most disputable sentence he’d heard from them yet; shouldn’t the government be watching from afar? Suspicion slowly coiled in Sam’s gut, alongside fear.

Sam nodded and moved so they could come in. He waved to his neighbor who was out on his porch, before walking inside and shutting his door.

6 Days Prior To Death Date

“Yeah, Dean, there were like, six guys.” Sam held his phone to his ear, telling his brother in hushed tones about the businessmen that came by the day before, around noon.

“They could’ve sent one, maybe two suits, why the hell would they need to bring so many people? And the hell was with that ‘swear secrecy’ crap? It’s not like you even kept that oath.” Dean sounded suspicious but he didn’t need to directly voice his concern for Sam to understand where he was coming from.

“I don’t know, they said they would be coming back today.”

The two brothers continued to discuss the odd people until the doorbell rang and Sam bid his brother goodbye.

“Be careful,” Dean warned, and Sam could practically hear him biting his lip or clenching his jaw

“Don’t worry about me.” Sam tried to coax away Dean’s worry with a smile the other couldn’t see, and hung up.

When he opened the door he was met with a different group of men than the one yesterday. An eyebrow was raised in an unspoken question.

“Today is more of a fact-checking day, to see if anything has changed without being biased,” One of the men explained with a stoic expression, as if expecting the question.

Sam accepted the answer with buried suspicion; it sounded like bullshit, and it was so simply phrased and obviously practiced Sam wouldn’t have been surprised to find notecards taped to their sunglasses; but he didn’t have any solid evidence to base his hunch on. So, with another wave to his neighbor- who didn’t wave back this time- Sam found himself walking back inside to answer another handful of questions, each more suspicious than the last

5 Days Prior To Death Date

Sam was expecting the men back around the same time every day, even if it might be a completely different group of people, so he had a feeling it wasn’t them when his doorbell rang at 10 o'clock.

Opening the door with a little more lag than usual, Sam had to crane his neck downward to look at the girl standing before him.

“Hi?” Sam half-asked. The girl looked familiar and his brain was trying to place her face.

‘I can’t just live the last week of my life in peace can I?’ He thought bemusedly to himself.

“Hey, this is going to seem like a really weird question, but is everything alright? I’ve seen people on your doorstep these past two days. Around the same time I might add.” She didn’t look as concerned as her words sounded.

Then he remembered, she lived in the house in front of his. They hardly talked, but he was flattered to know that she was worried about his well-being. So, as he didn’t want her to fret over him he answered, “Oh, I’m fine. They’re just asking me a few questions.”

She looked unconvinced but shrugged nonetheless. “Alright, but if you have any problems I’m right across the street.”

“Okay, thank you anyway..?” He trailed off to let her fill in the blank, embarrassing as it was to have lived next to her for almost two years without knowing her name.

“Meg,” she answered with a close-lipped smile.

He watched as she walked away and pulled out her phone halfway across the street.

When the group of people came at 12 o’clock sharp, Meg was watching warily from her open window. Sam gave her a reassuring smile and followed the men back into his house.

Sam was a little more hesitant when it came to answering their questions this time around, though.

4 Days Prior To Death Date

“Mr. Winchester, we insist you answer these questions to the best of your ability to benefit future generations,” one of the new group said, handing Sam the drink he had placed on the table beside his couch.

“Sorry, gentlemen, I’m feeling a bit under the weather today. Could we postpone the rest of these questions until tomorrow?” He asked, taking a sip of his water.

One of the younger men piped up, “No! We need to collect the information while it’s still fresh or else we won’t be able to get an accurate description of--”

Another man, with obvious seniority over the prior one, spoke over him, “Actually, we can collect this information tomorrow. Please get some rest, Mr. Winchester, we don’t want to lose any more time than we already have, since you are already dangerously close to your end.”

Sam was startled by the bluntness of the statement but simply nodded in agreement and followed the men to the door to ensure they all walked out. Better safe than sorry, Dean always said, and he had to agree.

After waiting a few minutes he walked outside and looked around, and oddly enough, all of his neighbors seemed to be outside. And while it wasn’t uncommon for one or two of them to be out and about on such a nice day, the fact that everyone was outside was a little strange.

‘I’m just being overly paranoid. Dean has me worrying about those men and now I’m jumping at shadows.’ He scoffed lightly and half-smiled as he walked across the street to Meg’s house. He hardly knew her, but she was the only one who displayed any concern outright so he felt he could rant to her a little.

Normally, he would have gone to Dean, but he had already seen how that worked out two days ago. Dean, when he worried over Sam, only served to get Sam worked up more.

“Meg, hey, this is going to seem sudden but, can we talk?” Sam asked when he got within earshot of the woman sitting on the steps in front of her house, watching cars go by.

“Hey Sam, missed me already?” She joked, pausing to take in Sam’s reaction before continuing seriously, “Sure, want to come inside?”

He almost shook his head in response to the question. Being able to see the street he had lived on for years would probably bring him comfort while discussing something awkward, but he felt that the conversation they were going to have would need privacy. With that in mind, he nodded.

The two ambled inside slower than Sam would have liked, he was on a time limit but was in no position to tell Meg how fast she was allowed to enter her own house.

Once the two got into the sparsely decorated living room, Sam began to talk off his nerves instead of steering toward the topic gradually.

Luckily, Meg didn’t seem confused as to what the tall man was going on about and silently allowed him to vent without interruption.

She didn’t say anything until Sam said, “The questions have started getting really personal, it’s disconcerting. They stray off topic and ask me things that have nothing to do with me dying in a few days.”

“Like what?” She asked with a subtle tilt of her head.


“You said they asked you strange things, can I get an example?” Her voice hinted that this ordeal was actually amusing for her, which made Sam regret his hasty decision to talk to her just a little.

“Well,” he began with a small sigh, “they were asking me about my friends, my family, my neighbors, and if I knew much about their dates. Why would they be asking me questions like that?”

When Meg didn’t respond, the room fell into silence. Both current occupants lost in their own thoughts.

“Just out of curiosity, what’s yours?” The Winchester inquired.

“I have no clue why they would do that, Sam. Maybe they want to see if people are attracted to others with similar dates? Or if certain dates run in families?” She guessed, speaking as if she hadn’t heard the more recent question.

“Yeah, that must be it.” Sam nodded in agreement, finding himself just as uncomfortable as he was with the businessmen earlier. Meg was doing very little to alleviate his discomfort; if anything, she was making him more suspicious.

It didn’t help to soothe his nerves when he glanced at her wrist to find it covered by a sleeve that went down to her palm. The clothing choice would have seemed normal had it not been nearly 90 degrees out. Circumstantially, it was unsettling.

“Well, I have to go, not feeling too good right now. Thanks for hearing me out.” Sam began to walk to the front door in what he hoped was a casual way.

Hearing no objection, he quickly exited. Getting back to his own house, giving a weak wave to his neighbor (who paid the gesture no mind again), and making it into bed was all the time it took for him to feel just as sick as he had pretended to be earlier.

3 Days Prior To Death Date

Ding Dong

A moment's pause, enough for Sam to crack open one of his eyes reluctantly.

Ding Dong

Knock Knock Knock

“I’m coming!” He called out to no one in particular.

Bang Bang Bang

The louder sound encouraged Sam to get up faster than he had intended to. The consistent knocking didn’t falter even as Sam began to unlock and open the door, so when he completely opened it, fearlessly, he nearly got punched in the face by his own brother.

“Dean?” He furrowed his eyebrows at the older Winchester.

“Hiya Sammy.” Dean pushed past Sam and made himself comfortable in the living room like he owned the place.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just thought I’d drop by and check up on you.”

Despite the sketchiness of the sudden intrusion of his living space, Sam didn’t force his brother out. An unannounced visit was probably warranted considering the fact that he only had three days to live.

But, Dean had a look on his face that said he wasn’t just there for a leisurely visit. He was much more suspicious than Sam was when it came to questionable people. He would probably burst a blood vessel if he found out Sam had complained to Meg, a complete stranger, instead of his own brother.

“Alright,” Sam said with a sigh, “Anything you might want?” He added sarcastically.

“Do I even have to say it?” Dean looked at his younger brother expectantly as the latter traipsed into the kitchen, “Can I ask when those groups of people keep visiting?”

“Noon. And, thanks for confirming my suspicion.” That you only showed up to check out the men for yourself. Sam took a box out of his fridge and trudged back into the living room to hand it to Dean.

“Which was...?” Dean accepted the offer graciously before revealing the contents and chowing down using his hands as though they were utensils, “Is this pie even good? Like, not-expired?”

“Would you care if it wasn’t?”

Without waiting even three seconds, Dean shook his head vigorously. He seemed to forget that they had been in the middle of a conversation.

The two sat in silence, or as close to silence it could get in the room with Dean eating like a pig, until the time finally ticked it’s way to 12 o’clock. Almost as soon as the clock read “12:00” the door was knocked on in a less urgent way than it was when Sam was awoken from his sleep abruptly.

Dean was up on his feet immediately, and in front of the door in record time. With little to no thought about how he must look, with crumbs around his mouth and his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk, Dean swung open the door and gave the expected company a predatory glare.

With his mouth still full, Dean found himself unable to make any unnecessarily rude remarks. Sam found this to be a small blessing as it gave him just enough time to move his brother out of the way and quickly speak.

With a small, uncomfortable, wave, Sam said, “Hi. Sorry, I knew you were coming, I didn’t know he was coming. This is my older brother, Dean, he won’t be much of a problem.” I hope.

The last bit never left Sam’s mouth for the safety of his brother, it was more of a subconscious decision to play it safe around the men.

By the time everyone got settled, Dean had swallowed the last bit of the pie in his mouth and sat next to Sam on the couch with the glare still present on his features.

The usual, protocol questions followed; but with Dean listening in, Sam found himself over thinking what the questions really mean and whether or not they sounded suspicious. That was, when Dean wasn’t butting in and pointing it out right to the people’s faces.

“So, where are your father and mother around this time in your life?” One would ask.

As Sam would open his mouth, Dean would cut in with something like “That question has nothing to do with death dates at all. What do you need to know where mom and dad are for? Spying? Are you government spies?”

Sam would proceed to promptly shut his mouth and give an apologetic look to the group.

Okay, maybe Dean didn’t say it exactly like that, but he might as well have with all the implications of a darker undertone to the visits. Eventually the men learned to just ignore Dean’s comments. It went well until he brought up something that seemed to actually hit home, if Sam could judge it by the faces of the men.

“Fact checking only needs to be done once or twice, but you’ve kept coming for almost a week now. And, on top of that, you are all dressed up for what looks like a big conspiracy-con. All we need is Mr. Jones, Mr. Smith, and freakin’ aliens.”

‘Men in Black? That was really the best you could come up with out of all the references?’ Sam wanted to ask.

At the time Sam hadn’t been sure which part of Dean’s sentence offended them, but he could take a guess that it was probably focused on the fact that he called them out on acting like men who are hiding a big government conspiracy.

What exactly happened remains a mystery to Sam since he blanked out as the men got defensive and Dean got upset, there was some muffled yelling and by the time he zoned back in Dean was practically pushing them out the front door.

There were some rude words thrown out the front door and then it was shut rather loudly.

“Dean, if you’re so worried about them being ‘government spies’ or whatever, why would you act like that? I mean, wouldn’t that just convince them to kill us and then make it look like an accident?” Sam tried using logic, which Dean shrugged off as usual.

“Wasn’t it a little suspicious Sammy? They made you swear to keep all of the questions and crap a secret on the first day they showed up, but they seem just fine letting me listen in today.” Dean insisted that their behavior was a little more than, “just suspicious.”

And Sam was obliged to agree. For once, Dean had a strong point with evidence to back up his claim.

One moment led to another, and before Sam knew it he was searching up conspiracies with his brother like they did when they were teenagers.

“So, get this, some people actually go missing when their death date occurs. And, it happens a lot more than we would actually think. Though, I can’t find any pictures of the missing people, so I’m assuming the government would go through the task of cleaning up any evidence that those people even existed right?” Sam had a childlike spark in his eyes as they scanned article after article, page after page, website after website of any interesting conspiracies he could get his hands on.

“Anyone have any ideas why they disappear?” Dean asked, leaning over to peak at the current news-clip that had apparently been taken down just a few minutes after it was posted. Or maybe it was a “leaked, never before seen, piece of an article that was actually still up.”

Sam shook his head in response to the question.

After a while, the stories all looked the same to the brothers. Through all of the good vibes they hardly remembered briefly arguing about sleeping arrangements or bidding each other goodnight.

It was probably one of the last genuine moments of happiness the Winchesters would have for a long while.

2 Days Prior To Death Date

He felt it the moment he woke up, an ominous feeling weighing on his shoulders like a premonition. Or, maybe that was just Dean shaking him awake obnoxiously.

He was humming idly to himself, the complete opposite way he was shaking Sam.

“Rise and shine Sammy!” He was louder than Sam’s sleep-muddled brain appreciated, “We’re going out!”

“What?” Sam questioned, still disoriented.

“You heard me the first time! Shake the sleep out of your bedhead so we can get a move on.”

Without an explanation as to where they were going and why they had to go there this early in the morning, Sam was more than reluctant to even entertain the idea of going anywhere with Dean.

The fact that Dean was, willingly, up before Sam surprised him even more than the fact that he was being literally dragged out of the bed by his ankles.

By the time he hit the floor, he was awake enough to comprehend that Dean was actually rushing him to god-knows-where.

With a sigh, the younger Winchester pushed himself up and ushered Dean out of the room so he could change. Judging by the sounds of the car outside, Dean was getting ready to leave; not that he’d actually go without Sam after all the coaxing it took to get him out of bed.

When they were pulling out of the driveway, Sam combed his hair with his fingers to make it look more tame. “So, what has you all jumpy so early? Usually I’m the one who has to drag you out of bed.”

“Nothing, I woke up and felt like a day in the city would do you some good. You know, it’s a time to really live life while it lasts,” Dean said, speeding up the car when he saw no one he could possibly crash into.

“Right,” Sam sighed tiredly, “And you aren’t just trying to keep me away from certain people?”

Dean’s lack of a response told Sam the answer to his question. He sat back and allowed the rest of the car ride to proceed in silence. He didn’t have much of a choice at this point anyway, they were already driving so going back now would be a waste of gas.

At some point Dean turned on music and it was relatively peaceful until-


Sam’s eyes flew open, he hadn’t even realized that he closed them.

“Sonofabitch!” Dean fumed loudly. He rolled down the window and yelled a few colorful words at the car tailgating them.

All they got in response was the driver sticking their hand out of the window and giving them the finger.

Dean sped up even more to get away from the asshole muttering something along the lines of “Some nerve, that one has. I oughta…”

“There is a car in front of you,” Sam warned, much too calm for his own liking.

After slamming the brakes, sending them both hurling forward in turn, Dean was visibly miffed, “Stupid drivers, don’t know how to drive.”

They must have looked crazy in the eyes of anyone in another lane. With the speeding, breaking, and loud cursing, Dean’s driving skills must have looked questionable. The two in the car were grateful that no officers were nearby.

“You alright?” Dean asked, glancing away from the road a few times to make sure his little brother was okay.

Sam nodded and absentmindedly rubbed at the spots on his chest where the seatbelt had constricted painfully to stop him from dying an early death, not that that was possible due to his date; but it still would have been possible that he would go into a coma for two days and then die. An unfortunate demise for someone who depended on their date to tell them when they should be careful and when not to.

The rest of the ride went normal, luckily, and the brothers reached the city without any more problems.

“So, what should we do first? Dead meat’s choice,” Dean asked while locking the Impala’s door and beginning to walk with Sam.

“Hilarious,” Sam said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes in a teenage-esque way.

Dean gave him a cheeky grin and offered, “Maybe we can go to a store and get some random stuff?”

“Why bother? I’m not going to be here to use them.” He hadn’t meant for it to sound so depressing, he was just laying down the facts. And the facts were macabre.

“Jeez, how morbid. I meant stuff that we can do in one day. I know that, by law, family of a deceased person are executed if that person does reckless shit when they are about to die, but enjoy yourself! I’m going to die soon, mom and dad are both dead, we don’t have any other living family as far as I know, so no consequences.” Dean laughed a little throughout his entire offer. It was a stupid suggestion that he knew his brother wouldn’t accept, but he would be damned if he didn’t bring it up at least once.

Sam tittered with him briefly before nodding “I’ll go take a look around the store for something that may help me relax in my last days, but I think I’ll pass in possibly getting someone kill indirectly.”

They walked into a store together and picked up the most childish things, agreeing to use them before Dean left that night so they could have one more night of child-like fun.

After walking around with armfuls of bags for an ungodly amount of time, Sam was focusing on the plastic bags weighing down on his arms more than where he was walking. That could have been one of the reasons he bumped right into someone on his way down the street.

“Ah, I’m sorry. Let me get those bags for you.” The man in front of him bent down to pick up the bags that had finally broken at the handles. When he got back up, Sam got a good look at the guy’s face.

His neighbor stood before him, the same one who had completely ignored any friendly gestures directed at him for the past two days.

“Sam! I didn’t expect to run into you here! What a surprise!” He didn’t sound very convincing. In fact, his voice gave Sam an odd feeling that he knew he was going to run into him here, it may have even been deliberate. The man turned to Dean, “You’re his brother Dean right? Sam has told me all about you! I’m Nick, Sam’s neighbor.”

At that moment Sam rose an eyebrow in skepticism. He hadn’t said more than three different words to the guy. And none of those words had ever included Dean or the fact that he even had a brother. Hell, he only knew the guy’s name because he just introduced himself to Dean.

“Hey, I’ll help you guys take these bags to your car, yeah?” Nick offered, starting to walk in the direction the brother’s had been heading.

With Nick carrying more than half of their stuff, they had no choice but to follow him, exchanging looks.

Sam’s overly happy neighbor dropped his smile the minute they approached the Impala, how he knew the Impala was theirs in the first place was another mystery to the Winchesters.

Nick put the bags down by the drivers side door and turned to look at them. “Alright, now we can talk with a little more privacy. There was a suit tailing you back there and I wasn’t sure how else I could get you two away from him.” He stuck out his hand to Sam, “Sorry about earlier, let me properly introduce myself. My name isn’t Nick, that was more of a alias. I’m Lucifer.”

“Your name is Lucifer?” Dean asked with raised eyebrows.

The blond dropped his hand and nodded “Yes, but that is actually the least important thing at the moment. I don’t have much time to talk to you, it might look suspicious, so I’m not going to beat around the bush.” He peered around the two to make sure nobody was listening in, “You two, aren’t going to die anytime soon, trust me. Your dates are completely wrong. And before you ask me how I know, don’t ask me how I know that you were going to ask that, I’ll say that my death date has passed already.”

The Winchester brothers looked unconvinced, almost as if they thought Lucifer was crazy.

And Sam’s neighbor just sighed and nodded to himself as if he expected the reaction. “I’ll be seeing you in a day or two, don’t go anywhere, either of you. And, for the love of whatever the hell you believe in, do not leave your house in-” He grabbed Sam’s wrist and pulled it until he could see the date on it, “-two days. Stay in your house.”

Sam yanked his arm away from the strange man, looking perturbed.

Lucifer glanced behind them and his serious face turned into that carefree smile they had seen earlier. “Well, I’ll see you guys around!”

Dean opened his mouth but Lucifer put his hand up to stop him, “Ah, no need to thank me. All I did was carry a few bags!” He patted Dean’s shoulder and added “I’ll see you guys around!”

Sam turned to watch him go and caught sight of someone who was wearing a suit, earpiece, and sunglasses, okay maybe Dean’s Men In Black reference yesterday was justified, walking in their general direction. It reminded him that the men had probably come by his house, only to find it empty.

“Yeah, okay, see you Nick,” Dean called to him.

Sam, picked up the bags and shoved them into the back, still lost in thought, climbing into the passenger’s side by the time Dean had the car started up.

They drove back home is silence, the bags in the back left untouched when they got to Sam’s house.

“You want me to come back tomorrow?” Dean asked, getting ready to head back to his own home.

“No, I’ll be okay. But are you sure we shouldn’t take what Lucifer said into account? He seemed really serious.” Sam wasn’t all that eager to listen to something a random stranger had suggested. But, he did know a lot about Sam and Dean which disturbed both of them.

“We’ll be fine. Or, as fine as we can get, that guy’s a loon.” Dean shrugged, waving as he began to back up out of the driveway.

Sam waved back and went inside, it was already dark out due to the long car rides and shopping spree the brother’s went on.

Sam went to sleep somehow, even with the knowledge that he only had one full day left to live.

1 Day Prior To Death Date

Sam woke up feeling oddly serene. It almost didn’t feel as if he was going to die tomorrow, the day felt so unnaturally normal. So normal, that it was weird.
He got up, went for a jog, everything he usually does. Throughout the whole process, he waited for a sinking feeling to set it; but it was lunchtime and it still felt like any other day.

Surprisingly, at noon, the men didn’t show up at all. As a matter of fact, the neighborhood looked eerily empty. Everyone’s cars were either parked in their garage or somewhere else.

Nobody was out, and it seemed like even the birds stopped chirping. Sam looked out his window and briefly considered talking to Lucifer or Meg, but in the end he decided against it. He wasn’t sure how much he could trust them anyway, as far as he knew they could be the cause of his death tomorrow.

Sam eventually decided to finally relax like he’d wanted to do at the start of this seemingly never ending week. He read for a little while until his eyes saw the words but his brain didn’t process them. When that happened he went to his fridge to pull out something to drink.

When he realized nothing appealed at the moment, he made himself a shake and forced it down. He hadn’t eaten breakfast that morning, and even though a shake might not make up for it, it was still something.

He sat back down on his couch, looked around, and drummed his fingers on the cushions on either side of him. He was at a loss for what to do, the day was moving far too slow for his liking.

After a quick call to the bank, making sure his money was all moved to Dean’s account and closing his own. He took out his abandoned book, hoping he would actually focus on the story it was telling.

Just a few minutes in, and Sam could tell he wasn’t getting anywhere.

With a huff, Sam closed the book and placed it on the shelf, frowning all the while. This was clearly not working. Sam pondered what he could possibly do next to relax, when he found himself drawing blank he let out a vexed sigh. It was a little irritating that he had been wanting to relax all week, with no luck, but now that he had the time he couldn’t even settle on how to do it.

He grabbed his laptop and sat down in a comfy chair in his living room, turning it on. His first instinct was to open the internet browser, he would definitely find someway to cure his boredom online. The only question he found himself asking was where he should start.

Research was definitely something Sam found passed the time very quickly, as it was easy to find oneself lost on the darker side of the internet when they really got into it; but even that wasn’t enough for Sam’s mind, because it then brought him to the issue of ‘What should I research?’

Sam found his fingers subconsciously typing down something that had been on his mind since Dean brought it up. Before he knew it, he was searching up information about the shady government that still puzzled him to no end. He was clicking from stupid videos not pertaining to the search at all to theories that completely blew his mind, gathering information that could sate his hunger for answers. Unfortunately, most of these websites and articles expressed virtually identical details, and Sam only discovered a few new things, all of them minor.

Sam exited the tab, pausing when he was reminded of when he had researched conspiracies before. He recalled having been looking up conspiracies to pass the time just the previous night, and how enjoyable it had been. His gaze drifted to the lower-left corner of his laptop, reading the date displayed that was unsettlingly similar to the date printed on his wrist.

It finally hit Sam then, his shoulders slumped in a discouraged manner. A pang of sorrow accompanied the realization that he was going to die tomorrow. He’d never get to have such a jubilant time with his brother again. The blissful memory only served to make Sam feel guilty now. As if it wasn’t depressing enough to Sam that he was going to die tomorrow, how upsetting would it be for Dean? He and Dean had been together through thick and thin, but now Sam was, not by choice, going leave him behind so easily, and so quickly.

Eventually, heaving a sigh, Sam closed his laptop, glancing at the clock. It was around 5:50 now, and the sun was beginning to dip under the horizon when Sam’s head turned toward the window. The day had passed much more quickly after he decided to research online, just as he thought it would. After a few minutes of heavy silence, he decided that, despite his absent appetite, it would probably be in his best interest to at least eat something today.

Sam rose from his chair, his mood melancholy, trudging to the kitchen in search of something he could eat. Grabbing the handle of the fridge loosely, he opened the door.

Everything in the fridge looked just as appetizing as it had earlier, which was to say not at all. He pulled out an apple, another ‘better something small than nothing at all’ thought crossing his mind. He paused, it was late enough that an unwinding drink would be acceptable.

He looked through many barely-touched bottles, most were gifts from his brother, which he accepted to not be rude. He wasted time pretending to decide what mix would be better, but picked what he had been planning to grab from the beginning.

After pouring the two drinks together, he swirled his cup, looking at the Whiskey-Jäger mix. Before he found his genius idea to pass the time on the internet, the day had been a long one, but he had a feeling that the night would be even longer.

A few bottles of Whiskey and Jäger were taken with him to his living room after downing the first glass with minimal cringing at the burning sensation. The room, Sam noted, was actually more of a mess than he remembered. And, he found the only issue he had with it was that he probably looked like a slob to the men that had showed up throughout the week.

‘What even happened to those men today?’ Sam thought to himself, ‘They didn’t show up, it’s the first time that happened… Or maybe they didn’t show up yesterday too, I wouldn’t have known. I guess they were just tired of being mistreated and decided against sending more today.

‘Or maybe they actually took into account that I want to relax?’ The latter seemed ridiculous to Sam, the men he had talked to gave off the impression that they couldn’t care less if they were intruding on Sam’s private time.

After seeing how his last day turned out, though, Sam was a little grateful that he had a distraction all week. Numerous distractions, actually.

That thought led to one about his weird neighbor. Whom, he had a strange suspicion, had been following them around the city looking for a perfect opportunity to “accidentally” bump into Sam and his brother. That thought made him think about the guy in the suit who had also looked like he was following them, which branched into another thought concerning whether Lucifer really believed what he had told the brothers.

Sam’s throat ached after he took a few more sips while thinking about his latest confusing topic, but he didn’t pay it much mind. He wasn’t going to give himself time to think about anything depressing, not when he was supposed to be enjoying his last day. If you could call getting drunk by himself the day before he was supposed to die enjoying himself.

He realized his shoulders were tensed, probably from the deep thinking he was trying to do while getting shitfaced. He took a deep breath and slumped against his couch. The alcohol helped his mind wander a little, it kept him pleasantly distracted from the problems he was having.

Somewhere, deep down, Sam realized that this was an unhealthy way to deal with his problems, but his problems would be gone tomorrow anyway. Even if that fact happened to be one of his problems.

His thoughts became so muddled up that they trailed off to being completely unrelated to his stress. That was a good thing, he was forgetting his issues, if only temporarily.

A few glasses in and Sam wouldn’t remember most of the night. There were a few highlights that would stand out to him in his memories, not that they were outstanding or anything like that.

He would remember sitting at his couch with Dean’s number pulled up on his phone, just one button away from calling. Then he would click out of the number and close his phone. No need to worry Dean, who probably has problems of his own to deal with.

If he focused on it enough, Sam could distinctly remember opening his window and tossing some of his glass cups out, listening to the way they shattered, finding it oddly amusing.

It could have been part of a dream, but Sam had a foggy memory of having a conversation with Lucifer at his door, and a brief kiss. Or it could have just been him talking to the mirror, he would probably never know.

He couldn’t remember ever drinking that much before. And, even though he was distracted at the time, it was a very depressing-looking way to escape from his problems.

Death Date

Hangovers, the personal “fuck you” of forgetting your problems through drinking. Some of them get so bad that you regret drinking in the first place.

Ah, and the usual empty self-promise of--

“I’m never drinking again,” Sam muttered to himself after taking two pain killers and downing them with water.

He laid back down in his bed, eyes closed and fingers rubbing at his temples in a poor attempt to soothe the ache behind his eyes.

Sam could feel his head throbbing but didn’t dare open his eyes since the room would spin before them.

In a poor attempt to sleep, Sam tossed and turned for hours until he could feel the pain killers starting to work.

The pain numbed a little and when he opened his eyes his room seemed just that much more bearable to look at.

Through his morning-time hangover, Sam had distracted himself much better than the alcohol last night had, albeit more painfully.

As a matter of fact, when Sam finally realized what day it was, his clock read half past one.

The Whiskey-Jäger yesterday had managed to make him feel starving, or maybe it was the lack of eating catching up to him. Either way, the lunch he made himself was big, probably more than he could actually eat, in case he decided to throw all the food back up anyway.

When his stomach was full, he laid on the couch that had held him yesterday, morbidly accepting his fate.

He stared up at his ceiling, wondering how he would meet his end, until waiting for it seemed unbearable.

Every time his old house creaked, Sam squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, waiting for his inevitable death.

It never came.

And when he watched the sun set through his window, Sam made the rash decision to speed the process up a little. He got into his car and began to drive, hoping that the end he would receive would be a quick one.

As he sped down the road, he caught sight of something on the road further down, expecting it to be the dead carcass of some poor animal who had decided to cross the road at the wrong time.

Once he approached it, though, he realized a little too late that it was actually a cat, sniffing at something on the road, too far away to be startled by the car currently rushing towards it. He hit the breaks with a screech and heard a loud honking and screeching behind him as well.

He felt the car behind him hit his, and the undefinable sound of the two cars colliding reached his ears. Following that, everything seemed to go in slow motion. Sam jerked the wheel and his car managed to swerve away from the animal who had suddenly realized what was happening and scurried off soon after.

Sam felt lightheaded, but not that same pleasant lightheadedness he had felt the night before. No, this one may have had something to do with the blood that he just barely processed getting all over the wheel.

The sensation was one Sam would compare to getting up too fast. He felt like he was floating and darkness crept from the corners of his eyes until he couldn’t see anything. He didn’t realize he had close his eyes after the feeling started.

The last thing Sam heard, was the sirens.

After Death Date

A blond man pushed past the front doors to the hospital. He slouched his shoulder and ducked his head just a bit in an attempt to hide his face in a not-so-obvious way.

He walked up to the lady working at the counter and greeted her like an old friend. He gestured very briefly over his shoulder and continued talking as if he hadn’t.

The lady’s eyes flickered in that direction and were greeted with the sight of a group of suits. She turned to the blond and cut him off with a short apology. She proceeded to step out from behind the counter and approached the men lingering near the doorway.

She made conversation, back now to the blond who hurried deeper into the hospital now that he wasn’t being watched. Nobody was paying enough attention to notice as he slipped away.

He almost entered the room, but managed to pull himself back into the hallway just in time. There was another group of men in the room, identical to the ones in the lobby.

Cursing in his mind, he kept his back to the wall so he couldn’t be seen from inside of the room.

“You need to understand that this is just a matter of business. I’ve had the privilege of being here once before.” He heard someone say.

The lady from the front office came running down the hallway and approached him with a look on her face, “Excuse me sir, what are you doing?”

He heard the men in the room abruptly stop whispering back and forth. This time the curse he muttered was very audible.

The half of the men walked to the door and spotted the blond, they motioned to their buddies still in the room.

Unseen by the group, though, was the wink that the man sent the woman.

He went running with the group chasing close behind, leaving the lady standing there with a surprised look on her face. She walked into the room hesitantly and looked at the remaining men.

Her eyes landed on one of the men with a syringe in his hand, holding the arm of the unconscious man in the bed. He had been hurt in a pretty bad in a car accident the day before and had yet to wake up.

The men looked surprised, like they hadn’t expected anyone to enter the room.

With a smile, she approached the men and took the syringe from the one next to the bed.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to step out of the room for a minute. I need to give the patient his medicine, which I’m assuming is what this is.” She waved the needle around in an almost careless manner.

They hesitated, so she added, “Ah, don’t worry, you’ll be allowed right back in- I just need to change his bags and such.”

The group nodded with a suspicious look and stepped out of the room.

She felt her heart skip a beat when the man lying in the bed stirred and even made an attempt to sit up.

She hurried over and spoke in a hushed voice, “Sam? Sam Winchester? Can you hear me?”

Sam took a minute to let his eyes adjust to the lights that suddenly hit his eyes. He turned to the lady and asked “What date is it?”

The date that the girl repeated made him furrow his eyebrows, “That isn’t possible. Are you sure?”

She nodded, waiting for him to continue talking like she knew he would. He looked at his wrist and held it up for her to see, “If you aren’t lying, then shouldn’t I be dead?”

She laughed as if this wasn’t the first time she had heard that question, “No, no you are supposed to be very much alive. And you should have listened to what Lucifer told you, though I guess we should have expected this much- you’re always like this.”

He gave her a confused look, watching as she carefully removed the IV with practiced ease. When it was out she offered him a hand, and helped him up.

Sam made an attempt to turn towards the door so the lady could escort him out, but she turned him towards the window instead.

“I’m going to have to help you out through the window, sorry in advance for any pain you might feel on the way out,” She said apologetically.

There was an eyebrow raised, but he was still a little too groggy to really think about it. But, as he was exiting through the window, there was a knock on the door followed by it being opened.

The girl helping him out of the window tensed, but didn’t freeze; if anything, she sped up the process. She whispered in his ear as they got out of the building “You see that black jeep? Hurry towards that, don’t look back.”

With a voice in his head, telling him to listen to the girl, Sam chanced one defiant move. He glanced over his shoulder, eyes widening as he saw men in suits walking into the room he had been in just minutes before. The lady gripped the syringe that she took off the men and held it in front of her threateningly in one hand, the other was occupied clicking safety off on the gun that hadn’t been visible before.

“Sam! You took forever, get in and we’ll pick up Lucifer so he can brief you on what’s going on. Oh, and your brother. We can’t forget to pick him up too.” Meg was sitting in the driver’s seat. “And, for the love of-- listen, don’t ask questions just yet or this is going to be more difficult than it already is.”

Seeing her words as a threat, Sam hurried into the car just as gunshots sounded behind him. The back door was swung open and shut in record time. As soon as it was closed the car was in motion.

The car looked familiar, and it took him a few seconds before he realized that this was the car that almost made his brother and himself crash two days ago, not the one tailgating but the car that had been in front of them.

Though, it was probably Dean’s fault for not paying attention after speeding up so suddenly. It could have been another car, of course, but he distinctly remembers the bent-out-of-shape wipers in the back; was it even legal to have them hanging off like that?

Almost like the past week, which seemed like it had passed in the blink of an eye, the car ride was unsettlingly quick, even with the two pit stops they made. One, of which, was at a gas station near the hospital, and the other was actually at his own brother’s house.

They had picked up two people, the older Winchester and a familiar looking, and also heavily breathing, blond. Aka, Lucifer.

The three accomplices in the car shared an unreadable look followed by a tense silence. Unasked questions loomed threateningly in the air, though no one dared to actually address the elephant in the room.

Soon enough, they were being ushered out of the old car and into a different; why they were actually doing what the three wanted was lost to the brothers.

In the station wagon there was enough room that everyone wasn’t breathing down each other’s necks. At that time the Winchester’s began sharing their own indecipherable glances.

Sam cleared his throat, hesitated a beat, and asked, “So, is someone going to explain what’s happening?”

Meg put all of her focus onto the road, the nurse looked to Lucifer, and Lucifer spared Sam a side-glance before bringing his eyes back to the window.

The response, or lack thereof, was enough to make everyone uncomfortable.

When they pulled up to an unnervingly normal looking house Lucifer and the two girls got out of the car without delay, giving the boys no choice but to follow along.

Once inside the house, Lucifer visibly relaxed. His shoulders slumped comfortably and his stern face slackened. With this whole new demeanor, he turned to address the boys.

“Take a seat, please. I’ll go through the frequently asked questions.” He gestured to the couch in the living room.

“Alright, so-” Dean began; but his sentence was cut short by Lucifer holding a hand up to stop him.

“Let me go first, then if I missed anything you can talk.”

In response to Lucifer’s words, Dean looked to Sam as if to ask ‘Is this guy serious?’

“Alright, so, a real quick sum up. Those guys were trying to kill you, we’re trying to save you. This is Meg and Ruby, consider them my right hand women. Yes, Sam, we are well aware you were supposed to die yesterday; the fact that you didn’t is why the suits want you dead; something else that you probably don’t know is that Dean wouldn’t have died when his date came either because it runs in the family.” He paused, turning to the girls standing idly, “Did I miss anything?”

They shook their heads and shrugged in sync. Meg turned to Sam and Dean and asked, “Anything he didn’t cover?”

Sam couldn’t help the incredulous look that formed on his face, “Yeah, he missed a lot. Why didn’t I die? How did you know that they were trying to kill me? And… why are Dean and I in those pictures on the wall?”

Lucifer looked up at the frames as if it was the first time he was seeing them, “Right, those. I’m afraid this isn’t a conversation fit to be happening here, we should go downstairs.”

‘Downstairs’ to Lucifer was actually a bunker of sorts. It was spacious, with canned food lining the shelves and an air filter since they were underground. To Sam, the most surprising part was the amount of people down there, many of whom had been his neighbors before he was hospitalized.

“This was built around World War I, I think? I wasn’t living here back then, but when we got found out we had to move post-haste,” He explained, despite nobody asking. “I say we, not just meaning my group of people, but you two too! Those men had brainwashed you numerous times before- threw you under the radar and then let you start a new life until your day came.”

Most people around them quieted down, listening in to Lucifer’s story even though it was evident that this wasn’t the first time hearing it for most of them.

“Once we found out about you though, we made it our job to help you two get away from them secretly, though it never really worked out, if that isn’t already obvious. This was the first year we decided to be outright and just take you; But, because of that, if they find you this time, it could mean they’ll kill you instead of just brainwashing.” Lucifer paused, giving the information time to sink in.

“This may be a really delayed reaction, but if it runs in the family why isn’t Adam also here?” Dean asked.

Anyone still talking before was definitely listening now. Sam looked at Dean an equal amount of confusion.

Someone finally asked the question everyone in the room was thinking, “Who?”

“Adam, he’s our.. Half-brother. After our mom died, our dad got another lady pregnant and had another son. When I found out, he made me promise not to tell anyone, not even Sam. Up until now I never really thought about him much,” Dean explained. It was something about the pictures that Sam pointed out that made him trust these people, there was no way that those were fake.

“Why didn’t we know that?” Lucifer mumbled to himself, immediately turning to the others and asking with more panic, “How come we didn’t know that?”

He shook his head and immediately asked for Dean to answer some questions about Adam with Meg and Ruby, to which he agreed, leaving Sam with the stressing man.

Lucifer used the lack of a crowd to pull up his sleeve and show his date to Sam, as if it was something for his eyes only. His wrist revealed a date that had long passed, “Sam, I’m like you; we all are. And, I know in your eyes we just met, but I need your trust and cooperation.”

“As of now, you have my trust; But cooperation in what?” Sam responded, not looking at the blond in favor of scanning the faces of the people in the bunker with his eyes.

“In keeping you safe, in getting your newly-found half brother here safely? I don’t know, anything important that we may need to get done with your help.”

He finally looked at Lucifer, locking his own eyes with the other’s intense blue ones, “What’s your plan?”

“Nothing too complicated, just overthrowing the entire government.”

Sam laughed briefly before it sunk in that the other was actually being serious, his face dropped a bit, “How do you plan on doing that?”

“By force, obviously. We go in there, kill a few people if necessary, force them to hand over all of their authority to someone here, and then off them- messy but necessary.”

“You think that could actually work?” Sam’s skepticism was justified considering the plan he was just given.

“Of course! There are a lot of us, strength in numbers,” Lucifer gave Sam a convincing smile.

“Lucifer, Ruby and I are going to go get the kid, we think we might have figured out where he lives,” Meg said, though she waited for him to give her confirmation that it was okay to go through with it.

Lucifer shook his head, “No, get someone else to do it. We need to find, and get to, the place that is in charge of all the agents being sent out. I need you two with me when we do that.”

They obliged, and another person was sent to find and retrieve Adam Milligan.

After the person left, everyone set to work finding where the base was without raising any flags online that might get the group caught. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that hard to find them; Lucifer explained that it was expected since they had been searching for the base for quite a while prior.

The hardest part would soon ensue, getting inside and establishing their dominance.

They drove as far as they dared and lingered by the cars for a few minutes. Lucifer explained to the boys that getting this far by car without seeing any signs, fences, or guards had raised a few eyebrows.

A few people were sent back to sneak up behind the prison-esque guard towers they spotted, when they approached on foot, and silence the guards.

Sam’s eye was caught by a camera facing them as they entered the building. He quickly hurried to the front of the group, where Lucifer was glancing around warily, to whisper this bit of information to him.

The moment Sam moved in front of Lucifer he felt a burning pain course through his shoulder. He looked down and was met with the sight of blood staining his shirt; the first few seconds following that were met with nothing more than shocked silence, but no more than a minute later people were surrounding the group, appearing seemingly from nowhere, guns out.

Their weaponry may have originally been for defense, but as soon as three of their men were shot down, a fight broke out.

In Sam’s eyes, everything moved by too fast, he watched as people he had met just yesterday fell to the ground lifeless. Dean had rushed over his younger brother, firing the gun Lucifer had helpfully tossed to him as if it was second nature. His brother may have very well been the only reason he lived.

Not everyone was lucky enough to have someone like Dean watching their back, though. Sam and Meg’s eyes connected just as someone emptied their clip into her back.

Her eyes widened a fraction, as did his, and everything going on around him blurred. He heard an anguished cry and witnessed Lucifer sliding over to the girl with a distressed look on his face. After his cry met Sam’s ears, a ringing replaced it- he hadn’t know her personally for very long, but she had lived so close to him for years.

He shook his head, eyebrows furrowing; their eyes had met, she was alive just five seconds ago. She couldn’t possibly be dead.

The blond was cradling her corpse and nearly got a round in his side too. What could have been considered luckily, his arm took most of the bullets. The wounds still left him slumped against the dead woman he had been holding.

Sam turned to find his brother on the floor, he had been caught up in his own world and had failed to notice Dean taking hits while protecting him.

The few remaining people, upon noticing their leader inching towards death, began to retreat.

Sam picked up his brother, trying his best to ignore the pain from the wound on his shoulder. Not even ten minutes ago that had been the worst of the injuries, now there were dozens of people dead and blood from both sides staining the marble floors.

Lucifer was carried out by the living group members, but Meg’s corpse was left. Ruby seemed to deem this not okay and went back to grab the body. Seeing as the gunfire had yet to cease, even with the obvious retreat of the group, Sam wasn’t surprised when she soon fell lifeless next to her friend.

It being expected did nothing to soothe the ache in his chest, one not from a bullet wound but from the stench of death that would now haunt his dreams forever.

Sam was surprised that he managed to get out without getting hit by one of the many ricocheting bullets, pure luck if it could even be called that with all the casualties.

When he did a headcount as people got into the cars quickly, Sam counted about twenty people to their original 150 up.

Most of those twenty were severely injured and a few wouldn’t live long without being tended to soon.

The injured were rushed into the base as soon as they got back, which was rather unsafe as they didn’t ensure that they weren’t followed in their hasty retreat.

Those that weren’t unconscious on the numerous beds scattered about the house looked lost. Sam took charge, albeit reluctantly, and messily bandaged his own wound before beginning to patch up the more fatal injuries.

He worked his way from the worst to the slightly less worse, and eventually finished. The others had did their best to help him when they could, but nobody awake in the house was really qualified to be doctors.

Sam fixed up his own injury properly, instructing someone, on how to make sure the bullet wasn’t still present and stitch it closed, in a strained voice.

When the panic settled down best it could, Sam was left with the images of bodies dropping dead burned into his eyelids. He felt anger swelling up from deep within.

Not entirely sure who he could point fingers at, Sam blamed himself. All of his friends had been killed before his very eyes and he had lied there from something as insignificant as a shoulder wound.

He found his unrealistic thoughts that Meg and Ruby somehow hadn’t died, and would come running in, slowly turning into more vexed ones. He decided that he would spend the next few hours making plans to get revenge on the monsters who did this to them and waiting for his brother or the leader of the group to wake up.

By the time Dean began to stir, a day had passed and Sam had gotten no sleep, having spent the whole night praying to a being, that his older brother didn’t believe in, to bring the lost people back.

When Lucifer awoke, Sam was talking to the person in charge of saving Adam. When he tried sitting up a pained groan escaped his mouth.

The conversing men in the room turned to him and hurried over.

“You’re awake,” Sam stated in a relieved tone, “Don’t sit up, you’ll hurt yourself. I’m surprised you’re even alive. Surprised but relieved.”

Lucifer blinked at him, looking taken aback, “Where’s-”

Sam shook his head with a frown before Lucifer could even ask his question, “You and a few others got it really bad. Though everyone’s awake now, you and Dean might die if you try to get up since my work isn’t exactly professional.”

“You patched everyone up?”

“We were all dazed when we got back, so I just stepped in.” The brunet sighed, wishing this innocent conversation could continue forever, but something important needed to be addressed, “Listen, I know you just woke up but there is an issue. It’s regarding Adam.”

If Lucifer hadn’t been interested before, he was now, “Is he here?”

Sam nodded, allowing the silent man standing next to him to continue explaining, “He wasn’t exactly willing to come with me. Don’t misread what I’m saying, he’s here, but he isn’t happy about it.” He paused, running a hand over his face tiredly, “His date already passed, so he evidently knows about the whole ‘not dying’ deal; but, it’s been years, so I was curious why the government hadn’t intervened.”

“Any theories?” Lucifer asked, looking just as tired as the other man sounded.

This time Sam was the one to respond, “Yes, as soon as we took out the rag that was stuffed in his mouth to keep him quiet in the car, he started going on about how his boyfriend was this big shot military general and we wouldn’t get away with this etcetera, etcetera. I’m thinking that his boyfriend’s military service could be why the government’s left him alone.”

Lucifer hummed in thought, “You think we could use that to our advantage?”

“You’re perceptive. I was thinking about everything we did wrong the first time around and realized a ton of flaws in our plan. One of the most obvious ones is that we didn’t even have a plan. I’m not sure exactly how we are going to make everything work, but if Adam’s boyfriend is as in love with him as he’s letting on I’m sure he’d be willing to bargain a lot for him back.”

Lucifer tsked with a grin, “Sam, are we the bad guys?”

That made the Winchester pause,what they were doing was definitely not right but it was for a good cause. The only question was did the end qualify the means? It’s not like they were torturing the kid before threatening him with death.

The only threat was that they would refuse to return him, he was to remain unharmed though.

“We sure as hell aren’t.”

The three men jumped and turned to look at Dean, who was lying in a bed nearby, listening in to the conversation.

“We’re going to give this dude a call and let him know what’s going down. We’re gonna give it to him bluntly, to hell if he likes it or not. How many people have these sons of bitches ganked to ‘maintain peace’ or whatever they want to call it?” Dean asked rhetorically.

Sam felt more upbeat by Dean’s reassurance than he felt he had any right to be, “There’s our answer. I’m going to drive away from here with Adam and give his boyfriend a call. I’ll use his phone and get rid of it after so they won’t be able to track us.”

Having said it so definitively, nobody dared to oppose his idea. Not that they looked comfortable with his proposal to do this by himself. They understood though, if something went wrong there wouldn’t be many more casualties.

Usually, Dean would have been the first one to tell Sam that going by himself was a bad idea, but he knew he couldn’t change his brother’s mind- not with the amount of people as scarce as it was.

So, Sam blindfolded his half-brother and helped him into the car. He did his best to explain his situation, and make the younger boy understand why they were doing what they were doing.

“So, what are you doing?” Adam asked.

“You’re the first person to actually ask, and I’m glad because there is no way everyone would have let me go through with this if they knew what I was going to say to your boyfriend,” Sam mused aloud.

“Which is?”

“You’ll hear it when he does.”

Silence embraced the two as Sam took many unnecessary turns to confuse the boy, keeping in mind which streets he passed so he could find his way back.

He pulled up at a creepy looking playground located on an unused backroad. The swings looked rusted and spiderwebs were decorating the jungle gym.

After helping the other boy out of the car as well, he pulled out his phone and found that it didn’t even have a passcode; things were working out in his favor for once.

“Which one is your boyfriend?” He asked, sitting them both down on the grimy metal bench.

“The one that says ‘Michael’ with a bunch of hearts after it.”

At least he was cooperating, even with the uncalled-for sass.

He clicked the call button and, not even one ring later, someone picked up. Whoever Adam had chosen to fall in love with did not sound happy.

“Adam! I’ve been calling you nonstop for the past few hours, where are you?”

A part of Sam felt bad for the guy, he hadn’t done anything to deserve the near-heart attack he probably had when he came home to a missing boyfriend. The other part of him was glad to hear that he was extremely worried, it would make everything that much easier.

He looked over at Adam, who had obviously heard his boyfriend’s worry.

“Is this Michael?” Sam asked.

The line silenced momentarily.

“Who is this?” Michael asked right back, voice leveling as if practiced.

“I’m his brother, Sam. I came to get my brother from your house because I was tipped off that he was in danger.”

“What?” Adam and Michael asked in unison, probably for different reasons.

At the same time that Adam asked “I have a brother?” Michael asked “What did you do to him?”

Sam shook his head as if either of them could see him, “I haven’t done anything, he’s right here. Adam, say hi.” He did his best to sound threatening, there was no way he would actually do something to hurt Adam, but maybe he could convince Michael that he would.

“Michael!” He said, leaning into the touch of the phone that was being held against his ear. “Michael, I’m okay I promise-”

Following Adam’s words, Sam pulled the phone away from him again trying to remember all those movies that Dean and him used to watch together that involved kidnapping and ransom.

“I’m going to need your word that you’ll cooperate with us. If you do, everything will go smoothly, the death toll will be kept to a minimum and Adam won’t get hurt.”

To Sam’s surprise, Michael was quick to oblige. He was a smart dude, “What do you want?”

He needed to make this quick, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the call was traced- every minute he stayed here was another that someone could find them, “I’ll discuss my terms with you when I’m sure of your loyalty to our side. I know you’ve traced the call, what a loving boyfriend, show up here alone today next week at approximately 4:30. If you bring anybody, I’ll know and we’ll have an issue. Understood?”

He couldn’t help but hate himself a little more after Michael agreed to the meetup and hung up. He hadn’t sounded like his usual self. What was important was that it worked, though, and he hadn’t exactly threatened to kill anyone.

“Sorry,” He apologized to Adam before leaving the phone in the fly-infested garbage can and helping him into the car once again.

On the way home he explained to Adam how he had two brothers and, since they weren’t dating anyone who could convince the government to leave them alone, they were being targeted.

When he told Dean and Lucifer what he’d done, they weren’t what one could call happy.

Dean said he wasn’t careful enough and Lucifer chided that he was being too dependent on how much he thought Michael loved Adam.

“For all we know it’s a broken relationship,” He explained.

Despite the scolding Sam got, they looked proud that he had managed to progress their work in such a short amount of time.

Lucifer even requested that he be there to meet with Michael.

“If things go south-” Sam began, trying to explain why he didn’t want the older man tagging along.

But Lucifer was unrelentless, and very insistent. So on the car ride back to the park, he sat in the passenger seat keeping an eye on Adam- who was now demoted to the back- while Sam drove.

He occasionally looked back, but for the most part his eyes were glued out the window. Meanwhile his hand inched, ever so slowly, to where Sam’s free one was.

The latter nearly jumped out of his skin when their fingers were intertwined casually. He gave a sideways look to the blond, who gave him an apologetic grin but didn’t retract his hand.

Sam noticed that he had been acting that way during the week that they spent discussing what they would be actually asking Michael for specifically. Lucifer had sat too close, leaned on him slightly, given him intense gazes; and each time he gave that same smile, or even mumbled “Sorry”, but never changed his actions.

Even a blind man would be able to see that the two had been involved in a prior lifetime, so to say. With that in mind, Sam wouldn’t move away; the gestures even comforted him in a way.

They pulled up at the park, a lone figure was sitting on the bench. Sam was hoping it would be dark by the time anything went wrong, if something went wrong, that way he’d be able to make a quick retreat under the cover of the night.

At the current moment, the sun was setting so the man waiting for them was but a mere silhouette to the three exiting the car.

Sam supported Lucifer as they got out of the car, he still couldn’t walk on his own without the wounds in his side feeling like they were being burned with a flame.

“Michael?” Lucifer called out, breaking the silence abruptly; the way he said the other’s name sounded more like he was asking for confirmation, even though it could be no one else.

That wasn’t what surprised Sam and Adam though. The thing that made them furrow their eyebrows was when Michael responded by finally moving closer to them and asking back, in a much similar tone, “Lucifer?!”

The tone and mood of the situation changed drastically, almost like a switch had been flicked. The two were embracing in what looked like a passive-aggressive hug, if their conflicted expressions said anything.

“I knew it was you,” Lucifer said, “I heard ‘General’ and ‘Michael’ and I just knew it had to be you.”

“You kidnapped my boyfriend,” Michael grumbled unhappily, looking over Lucifer’s shoulder at the two other men standing there awkwardly.

When he let go and rushed over to Adam, giving him a more loving hug than he had to given Lucifer, the aforementioned blond explained, “Michael is my brother. We, obviously, made different life choices.”

Whatever was currently happening was not what Sam had been preparing himself for. Nevertheless, he needed to remind everyone why they were there, “Are we going to discuss the deal or not?”

He had successfully drawn the attention to him, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted it. He quickly apologized to Michael about his aggressiveness over the phone and the small group got to work negotiating and planning.

The amount of thought that was put into this plan was considerably more than the previous one. And, by the time they were done, the sun had long since set and the stars shone brightly above them.

“Do we all agree that that’s the best course of action to take?” Michael asked, holding onto Adam like he believed he would be taken away again.

Everyone sounded some form of agreement and they parted in their respective pairs.

When they got back to the bunker, the few who had lived through everything huddled around to hear how the meeting went.

“As planned.” was how Lucifer responded, urging Sam to inch away from the crowd.

Dean approached them separately, he was already able to walk on his own more-or-less. “Don’t give me that crap, I need details. What exactly are we going to be doing?”

Lucifer, looking to be alone with Sam for a little bit, answered him honestly, “The short version? We’re going to give everyone a month or two to get better, just enough time for Michael to find out where they moved the base, and then we’ll make a second attempt at infiltrating the base. That is, of course, if Michael holds up his end of the deal.”

“His end of the deal?” Dean rose an eyebrow.

“He is going to sway some of the army into supporting our side of the fight.”

Dean nodded, understanding Lucifer’s lack of lengthy responses was him trying to politely tell him to go away.

As soon as Dean’s attention was drawn elsewhere, Lucifer was practically strewn across Sam’s lap.

“About going on the mission-” Lucifer began.

Sam cut him off, “You aren’t going. That’s definite.”

He sat back up quickly, pretending he didn’t wince in pain, “But I’m the one who started everything! That’s not fair!” He crossed his arms in a childish manner and pouted.

“By the time we decide to put everything into action, you’ll probably be capable of walking on your own- that’s the most of it though.”

They stared at each other for a minute, until Lucifer broke it with a sigh. He didn’t like losing, but what would he do except hold them back.

“Who’ll be leading everyone while you’re over there? You?”

“I was thinking about that too. In my opinion, Dean would probably be best- he has military experience.”

Lucifer held up a hand with a smile, “Hey, we’re both in the ‘big-bro-was-in-the-military’ club!”

Sam shook his head with a smile, knowing he was trying to put him at ease. He lifted his own hand and gave him the high-five he was waiting for.

“Now, we just need to contact Michael periodically throughout the next two months and ensure that everything is going smoothly.” Sam said, he felt hopeful this time around.

Getting in contact with Michael wasn’t the only thing the two did during the months that followed. They also started subtly getting their message to the public, eventually there were many rumors being passed by word of mouth. Protests were popping up all around the country, and the leaders of other countries were taking notice and picking sides.

If they chose, they could have picked from the many protestors to help with their mission, they would definitely have enough people then, but Sam wasn’t ready to risk random civilian’s lives for a mission that could ultimately fail.

They would have enough people with the military supporting them, anyway.
That was what he figured out after getting off the phone with Michael just three days before they were to attempt what could end up being a suicide mission.

“Alright. Yeah, see you on Monday,” Sam said, laying down in the bed he had been hovering over.

Lucifer rolled over so he was facing him, “Everything okay?”

Sam nodded, though he felt anxiety creeping up on him, doubting the mission he had put together. In response, Lucifer slung his arm over the brunet’s torso.

The shorter man squirmed closer, laying his head on Sam’s chest, “I’m sure everything will go fine. You’ve put a lot of thought into this- smart boy.”

All of his movements were comforting, and seemed innocent until he felt one of Lucifer’s hands playing with the hem of his shirt. That could’ve passed as just a little questionable until his hand went under his shirt.

He jumped and tilted his head so he could give Lucifer a questioning look, but it was taken as an invitation to kiss him.

While he was surprised by this sudden straightforwardness, Sam couldn’t help but notice that his body reacted; and, instead of pushing away the other man, he was reciprocating the kiss feverishly.

They were panting when they pulled apart. Sam considered saying something along the lines of “That was really fucking sudden”, but was distracted by Lucifer’s hands lifting his own shirt over his head.

The younger man raked his eyes down the other’s torso, hands following their path.

“Consider this me wishing you good luck,” Lucifer explained, while mouthing at his neck.

“I’m not leaving until Monday though.” Sam’s hands were busy removing his own shirt so the two would be equally unclothed.

Lucifer moved back a bit to take in Sam’s whole expression, “I thought I’d give you a few days to get over the soreness; but if that’s an issue, we can always do this again on Sunday.”

The underlying promise in the blond’s words had Sam subconsciously bucking his hips against Lucifer’s. The friction caused them to groan each other’s respective names at the same time.

Apparently liking the way his name sounded on Lucifer’s lips, Sam bucked his hips again, this time deliberately.

Lucifer grinned at his actions, leading Sam to believe this was something that had happened before, something that ended very well for the both of them. When his clothed crotch was groped in response to his erratic movements, Sam’s theory was fueled.

They paused when they made eye contact, a look that lead to them removing the rest of their clothing in a timely fashion.

Even though Sam had warned him numerous times to take it easy, his wounds were mostly healed but they couldn’t be too careful, Lucifer insisted on manhandling Sam incautiously. He moved Sam so he was lying down flat on his back, swinging a leg over him so he was straddling his hips.

Sam appreciated Lucifer’s common sense when he reached over to the stand beside the bed to retrieve lube. He seemed content with using his own fingers to open himself uper coating them with the substance, but Sam had other ideas; he grabbed Lucifer’s wrist and tugged it gently.

The confused blond moved his hand away only to grip onto Sam’s hair a little too tightly when he felt the other’s fingers probe at his entrance.

Sam could easily deduce that Lucifer hadn’t seen him for a very long time, so this must have been the first time in years that the other was being touched by someone else.

By the time he had four fingers crooking inside of him, Lucifer’s face was down against Sam’s chest and his back was arched.

Sam closed his eyes, but before they shut he got a glimpse of Lucifer’s flushed face. His mouth was open, eyes shut tight, and with every heaved exhale there was something sinful leaving his mouth.

If Sam didn’t know better, with the way his own name was mixed with Lucifer’s pants, moans, begs, and curses he would have thought that “Sam” was something much more vulgar than a normal name.

Sam pulled his fingers out, and Lucifer shifted in response, hips chasing the retreating fingers.

When he regained his senses, Lucifer sat up more properly and snatched the container from Sam impatiently. He moved down the bigger man’s body until he could run his hands up and down the other’s length without contorting himself into an uncomfortable position.

It was Sam’s turn to become a moaning mess, trying to maintain just a little bit of his composure regardless of how many times Lucifer ran his thumb over his slit, which was leaking pre-cum.

Both held their breath in anticipation when Lucifer lined Sam up.

When Lucifer sank down onto Sam’s throbbing cock, the latter’s hands gripped at his hips to support him as he adjusted.

Both men were vocal about how they felt in that moment. With each inch that Sam was buried deeper into Lucifer he made sure to suck another spot onto his neck or shoulder.

As soon as he was fully seated, Lucifer wasted no time in lifting his hips back up before dropping himself down once more, eliciting a guttural groan from the man underneath him. It was enough to encourage him to increase the pace.

Lucifer rode his lover like a champ, Sam’s hips bucked him up once they had set a rhythm. His hands found purchase on Sam’s heaving chest as he ground his ass against him.

At some point, Sam realized that Lucifer was holding back on him by moving slower than the brunet would have liked. After briefly unfocusing from what he was doing, he found a way to amend the situation, Sam gripped Lucifer’s hips harder and quickly flipped them over so Lucifer was now the one on his back.

Said male let out an undignified sound but allowed Sam to hold his wrists against the mattress and thrust into him with abandon. Every thrust made the bed creak and groan in protest. There were some worries about it breaking at the back of Sam’s mind, but they were soon replaced with only the thought of pleasing the man writhing beneath him.

The sounds of their moans increased in volume as did the ones of skin slapping against skin.

Lucifer struggled against Sam’s hands, not necessarily because he wanted Sam to stop but more because he needed more friction against his own dick.

Sam understood the silent plea and moved both of Lucifer’s hands together above his head so they could be held with one hand. His free hand descended and wrapped around Lucifer’s length, pumping him in time with the thrusts.

He angled his hips differently with each thrust, wanting to ensure that Lucifer would be as close to cumming as he was.

When he hit the blond’s prostate, he knew it, from the way Lucifer threw his head back and cried out. Chasing his own pleasure as well, Sam kept angling his thrusts, best he could, so that almost each one would drive his cock straight into that spot. The act shot them both closer to the edge.

Everything sounded almost muffled in his ears as pleasure coiled in his abdomen. Lucifer clenched around him, and Sam was almost certain he heard him cry, “Cum in me!” Both of these taken into consideration, it wasn’t much of a surprise when Sam came, attaching his teeth to Lucifer’s neck to stop from screaming his name. He felt Lucifer shudder and heard him make no such attempt, yelling out Sam’s so if nobody knew what they were up to before, they definitely did now.

They lied like that for what felt like hours until Sam managed to roll off of Lucifer, still holding him close as they drifted to sleep despite the sweat and drying cum on their chests.

When they woke up, after showering together, Sam teased Lucifer while the other occupants of the house gave them glances.

“You’re such a needy bottom,” He laughed, sitting on the couch in the living room above the bunker.

“You cheated.” Lucifer insisted, though grinning, while sitting down on the other side of the couch, “You hurt my pride the minute you flipped us over.”

Dean, who was now sitting in between the couple, didn’t look nearly as amused as they did, “I don’t need to hear about your sex life, I heard enough of it last night. If you wanted me to move over, you could have just asked.”

He shot Lucifer the look. “I hope I don’t need to elaborate on what this look means.”

Lucifer shook his head, “Trust me, you don’t. I’ve heard it plenty of times, I promise I will not hurt your brother, I am well aware that you will hurt me if I do hurt him. I have known you two for so many more years than you would believe and I have yet to go back on my promise, so don’t worry.” He said it as if he was reading it from a piece of paper.

“Damn right,” Dean mumbled.

That night the two held each other close. The next morning they were experimenting to see how long they could make out in certain sections of the house without being told to get a room. And Sunday night, the one that held all of the worry that they had been avoiding, was filled with a lack of sleep but silent room.

On Monday morning Sam was the first person in the house to get up. He texted Michael to make sure that everything was in place, and then packed everything that they would need for the day.

He went about the house, waking everyone up. It would be a long day but the drive to the new ‘secret’ base would take up most of it.

Sam kissed his sleeping boyfriend’s cheek and left the house with the others. During the ride over, Sam and Dean whispered back and forth just to make sure the plan was understood.

When they reached it, they were greeted by two of Michael’s men, Castiel and Anna as they introduced themselves.

They were brought through guard-tower blind spots and an entrance that could only be opened with the ID of someone working in the building. Luckily for them, they had people on the inside, literally.

The door was opened from the inside and the group was let in by Michael himself. He nodded to Dean, since he was the established co-leader of this mission, and motioned for them to follow him. They passed unconscious people in the hallway, Michael’s group had surely done their job, but were nearly caught when they approached the most fancy looking door in the whole building. At least six people stood, guarding that door.

Last minute, they managed to duck out of sight.

They knew exactly where that door led to, the person in charge of it all. They needed that person to hand over the authority to them, hopefully they wouldn’t need to use force. This time around, though, they wouldn’t be able to screw up like the last time; if they messed up, the entire country could be at risk since the majority of the military, including most of the higher-ups, would be executed once they were linked to the break in.

“I’m in charge of the military. If I can convince the people standing guard that I have something important enough to bring up with the big man, they’ll let me through. The hardest part would be getting you through too.” Michael had said at the park.

They had decided on one way, but they would need to be quick and clean about it lest they get caught.

Michael walked up the guards, Anna and Castiel in tow, and told them part of the truth of what was currently happening, though he did neglect to mention that he was the one who helped the intruders in in the first place.

He insisted that he discuss the best course of action with the person behind the doors. They declared that they would allow Michael through, but not the other two. Exactly as planned.

When they turned their heads to watch Michael go through, Anna and Castiel stabbed four of them in the neck with that accursed serum used to brainwash those who didn’t die. They dropped to the ground almost immediately, not dead but unconscious.

The last two were put into a choking headlock by Michael who put on his best threatening voice and commanded them to watch the doors with his subordinates.

Cas and Anna stood guard, ensuring that the remaining actual guards were obedient.

They opened the doors and were met with many familiar faces. Most of the people here were those at the bloodbath that was their failed mission. They all had their guns out already, but had been lounging about. They hadn’t expected anyone to get that far.

So, by the time they perked up and got ready, the group and Michael’s troops were already advancing. Dean was originally supposed to be the one to hurry over to the person in charge, a man with such a terrible-looking sun tan that he looked orange, but he looked like he had his hands full with the three people who were recovering from the sudden shock of being surprise-attacked.

Not wanting to have a repeat of last time, Sam took matters into his own hands and hurried over to the desk. Putting the official in a position that caused everyone supporting the corrupt government to stop and look at him with wide eyes.

He looked to Dean for help and he got a look from him that encouraged him to say something, like the look would silently hand over his authority and confidence.

Sam started off by going down through with the more peaceful approach, though one of his hands still held onto the knife by the tan man’s throat his other one was held up a little in a show of peace, “Nobody has to get hurt. We just have a few things we need to discuss.”

Not a single person from the “enemy side” dared to move, or respond for that matter. They kept their eyes trained on Sam though.

“We need an official document, signed by you-” He looked at the man he was currently threatening, “- that states that you are willingly giving over your authority to General Michael Milton. After we have that, we’ll announce to the public of the sudden change in--”

In between one moment to another Sam was toppling backwards with a knife in his throat. The man hadn’t taken too kindly to being threatened with a knife and had used the younger Winchester’s slackened grip to turn it on him.

Everyone was suddenly in action, Michael and Dean ran over at the same time while fighting erupted around them. Michael quickly insisted in his most authoritative voice that Dean detain the tan man while he, himself, brought Sam to the nearest doctor since he knew the building much better.

He kept the knife in place to hopefully keep bleeding to a minimum, but Sam’s nervousness earlier had increased his blood pressure and, ultimately, the rate at which blood was seeping out his wound.

While doing so, he missed Dean using the man’s actions against him, saying that Sam had yet to hurt a single one of his men, and hadn’t even been properly threatening him. He even managed to sway some of the guards’ loyalty.

The ones who insisted on continuing to fight the resistance were put to sleep the same way the guards in the hallway were.


When Sam woke up the first time, he felt numb, and saw the worried eyes of Dean staring back at him saying something that Sam couldn’t hear; he felt a hand go over his eyes and assumed that he wanted him to go back to sleep, which he did with ease.

The second time he woke up, Dean was on one side of him, Lucifer was on the other, and Michael was at the foot of the bed talking to a doctor.

His neck hurt, so he didn’t even make an attempt to ask what was happening. He looked to Dean who was quick to explain the situation, “Sam, you’ve been asleep for two weeks. That orange dude with the three chins is dead-”

“-Did he.. You know, sign the document?” Lucifer asked for Sam, it seemed that he had refrained from finding this information before Sam woke up.

Dean looked at Michael, who asked the doctor to step out of the room for a moment. Once it was just the four of them, Dean continued, “No, he didn’t. Things got a little out of hand the day after you passed out. He was trying to get away from us, even left some of his supporters to die, and got killed by his own men.”

Sam felt obligated to raise an eyebrow.

“There were protests going on nearby, they were relatively peaceful, but the moment the people against the resistance showed shit hit the fan. He accidentally got shot by one of the violent people supporting his cause. It was kind of poetic, in a way- but I’m not into that crap so I wouldn’t know.

“It’s also important to note that we forged his signature and claimed that it was written before he died. So, as of current, Michael is technically the leader of our country.”

Sam looked at Michael with wide eyes, and said man gave him a small smile in return.

“So, how does it feel to be president Mikey?” Lucifer asked, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

His smile dropped and he shot a look to his younger brother, “Don’t call me Mikey. And, in regards to your question, I don’t know yet. Things are disorganized at the moment, but in time I’m sure things will settle down. The public has already recognized the exchange of authority, and many people aren’t happy about it, so I’m assuming we’ll have to deal with them first.”

Everyone looked at Sam, as if he was the person who should decide.

Dean looked at Sam and said, “You’re the one that got everything rolling, it’s only fair that you decide where we go from here.”

Clearing his throat carefully, he affirmed in a groggy voice, “Let’s show them who's boss.”