Work Header

Running Up That Hill

Work Text:

In the year 2013, Castiel dies. He doesn't come back and the world is crackling apart around them, Sammy has said yes, is wearing Lucifer like a well tailored suit and Castiel had screamed when the flames caught. Dean is alone, save Chuck and a bunch of people he doesn't want to be leading. Castiel is dead and God is gone, just like Sammy is gone, and how Lisa is gone- how Ben is gone, how he hadn't gotten there in time. Anna is gone and Jo is gone and Ellen and Bobby and Ash and Rufus and-

When Lucifer smiles, really smiles, he almost looks like Sam.

"Isn't this getting a bit old, Dean?"

He sounds like Sam. It hurts.

"Give them back," he says, fingers tightening around his utterly useless gun. The smile on Sam's face twists into a sneer, nasty and mocking- "But Dean, they chose their own paths."

"I don't care. I'm unchoosing it."

Lucifer laughs.

"Dean, Dean, Dean. It doesn't work like that."

Dean closes his eyes. He knows.

"Now, I can't quite give you your brother back. But I suppose, given some ah..." his eyes are dark like Sammy's, but colder than they've ever been and they flick away as if shy, then back up- coy, "persuasion, I could bring back your pet angel. What do you say, Dean?"

"Stop calling me that," he snarls. The devil laughs again.

"Shall I call you 'jerk', then? Sam has several fond memories of that word."

"No!" he spits, nails digging grooves into his skin. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that if he really wanted, Lucifer could kill him right now. Wrap Sam's big hands around his neck and snap- "No," he repeats, calmer.

Deals. He's sick of them, but Cas is family too, and everyone is gone. It should make things easier, but it really doesn't. "What do you want?" he hisses, hurls the question like a curse. Lucifer smiles, and it makes Dean think of snakes.

"Nothing much, Dean. Just you- back here, a year from now. There will be a rather... interesting guest that I look forward to entertaining." There's a rose bush to their side- and as he watches, the devil brushes Sam's fingers against the velvety petals. He looks intrigued, happy.

It won't do to ask who, so Dean doesn't. "Is that all?" he asks.

Lucifer's smile widens. "That's all."

He nods and steps closer- tilts his head up, one hand going to cradle the back of Sam's neck, tugging the devil closer. He feels sick, but he knows how this works by now.

Lucifer stops him when their lips are a breath apart, chuckling quietly and tapping a playful finger against Dean's nose. "You thought a kiss would do? Silly Dean. If a kiss didn't work for Lilith it certainly won't work with me."

That- he hadn't considered that.

Lucifer looks out at him from Sam's dark eyes, beneath heavy lashes- licks his lips slowly, and they're so close that Dean can feel the rasp of his brother's tongue across his lips. "Come," Lucifer purrs, "I think you'll find it pleasanter to do this inside."

One last smile and he turns away, fingers beckoning.

This is too much.

Too much, too much, too much, he isn't even getting Sam out of this, but there's no one and-

He follows.


The next morning, Cas comes back.

The morning after that Dean finds him doing blow off some chick's stomach. He laughs and lurches up, away from the woman and tipping towards Dean, brushing a clumsy kiss against Dean's lips and whispering "My hero," his pupils blown wide open.

"What," Dean says, and kisses back.

When it gets worse- when pills start disappearing and Cas' cabin starts to smell like sex, Dean calls.

Lucifer smiles at him.

"I never said I was going to put him back right," he says, still smiling. "One year, Dean."