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  • Rec *


    Sam finds out that when angels are at their weakest, they become little birds.


    06 Jul 2014

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    Bookmarker's Notes

    Lucifer feels that reoccurring urge to defend himself just as he did so many years ago, shovel in hand. Hissing out, adamant and pleading to Sam through clenched teeth and furrowed brows. Weary of having to prove to everyone he wants to be close to. That he can be trusted. He can love. He can be a safe place.


    It wasn’t his intention to frighten Sam, just relish in their enthusiasm as an understanding is achieved, once more, between them. To find mutual understanding with Sam is all he seeks and they found it once more — a third time, now. Once when Sam and him walked as one, when Sam let him near after demolishing Gadreel to patch a fractured soul and when Sam sought to heal him.

    Lucifer craved quintessence of self. When the melding of the two is at its purest and absolute truth — its very foundations and heart — is achieved. It’s a shrugging off of ignorance. An ultimate acceptance that looks past and yet sees all. For two halves to be whole but not in a physical manner. Lucifer sought this unification on a level akin to spiritual and thought, for the two separate halves to see the other as protectors and equals. True equality. That they be the glue and the driving force for the other as it should be between true vessel and archangel.

    It’s not so much a notion of romanticism but of transcendence.

    Sam smiles and moves to fold the remaining clothes. “So I have a spot for you in the drawers. This is where your clothes are going to be.” Sam points at one of the dressers, moving towards it with part of the clothes in his arms. “Figured since we share the same space, I should give you somewhere to put your clothes,” Sam concludes as he starts to put the clothes away, grumbling when one unfolds in his hands.

    The archangel is caught by surprise, a heavy fear that had latched onto him suddenly lightening. Sam’s giving him space within his private sanctuary. Lucifer quietly watches Sam move the clothes to an empty spot in the dresser drawers, smiling to himself. Sam fussing with his clothes is the sweetest sounding ‘yes’ he’s ever heard.
    The archangel’s brows furrow in a moment of surprise, lips twisting in mirrored sentiment. This did not sound nor feel like an interrogation. “I do not understand. You said you were upset…” the archangel voices. It’s simply too good to be true.

    “I am upset, Lucifer, but I’d rather know fully what exactly I’m upset at,” Sam diplomatically replies, the archangel’s features softening into subtle admiration and respect. Sam Winchester would be fair to the devil.
    Lucifer sees himself in Sam. Sees something wounded and hurt trying so hard not to admit that they found their new bottom.