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starsficBingo square #9: "Other: royalty"
(All prompts from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
au_bingo ~ custom card.)
Inheritance
“You’re very persistent,” Lucifer’s voice said from somewhere behind him.
Sam’s fists clenched, but he was careful not to turn. Sometimes looking made things real. Sometimes it didn’t. He wasn’t taking any chances in the middle of a vast white nothingness.
“One might almost think Gabriel had done something for you,” Lucifer continued. “A favor, maybe. One so great that you feel you owe him, I don’t know... your life?”
Sam would have rolled his eyes if it wasn’t the devil talking. He was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to roll your eyes at the devil. He was completely sure there was nothing he could say – nothing that would make the situation better, anyway – so he kept his mouth shut.
“I’ll tell you something, Sam.” Hearing Lucifer say his name never failed to set his teeth on edge. “A family secret, if you will.”
Great, Sam thought. This should go well.
“I like Michael,” Lucifer continued. “Against my better judgment sometimes, but no one’s perfect. And he likes you.”
Yeah, Sam thought. Definitely headed straight for Creepy Town.
“Gabriel’s our brother,” Lucifer said, like this was news to anyone. “Our younger brother. And I promise you, there’s no deal you could have made with him that Michael and I can’t get you out of.”
“Okay,” Sam said. He turned around, because this was past weird and rumbling right toward what the fuck. “First off, I’m starting to get why Gabriel’s such an asshole. You guys are great role models, you know that? And second, what the hell do I owe him? The guy faked Dean’s death a billion times and trapped us in endless reruns of TV’s Worst 100. He’s lucky I haven’t killed him.”
“And yet,” Lucifer said, studying him through disconcertingly blue eyes. “You haven’t.”
“Yeah, they taught us in kindergarten that guns aren’t the way to solve our problems,” Sam told him.
The corner of his mouth quirked, and for a moment Sam thought Lucifer might actually smile. “Gabriel has been shot many times,” he said instead. “So far it hasn’t seemed to stick.”
“We tried pointy sticks,” Sam said. “Holy fire worked better.”
Lucifer raised his eyebrows. “You burned Gabriel with holy fire?”
The tone was deceptively calm, but Sam wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the fact that Lucifer could turn him to dust without even trying. He seemed, somehow, so much more dangerous than Gabriel. Like Gabriel’s arrogant, bitchy facade meant that he could be reasoned with, while Lucifer’s cool distance was exactly that: distance.
Unspannable. Uncrossable. Inevitably alien.
“No burning,” Sam said. “We might have... trapped him. Long enough to ask him some questions.”
“I suspect you’re not the first to wish you could do that,” Lucifer remarked, and the chill faded slightly. “It does, however, leave me with my own questions. Still unanswered.”
“I don’t owe him anything,” Sam repeated. “He’s my friend, and I’m tired of seeing my friends get killed. Isn’t that enough?”
“No one wants Gabriel dead,” Lucifer said. He said it like he believed it, which was odd but Sam was standing in the middle of nothing and it was all glowing white, so odd was a relative thing. He did, at least, know better than to call Lucifer a liar to his face.
“Then someone screwed up,” Sam told him. “Because he died. C –” He started to say it, then realized belatedly that invoking other angels’ names to Lucifer might not be something they would thank him for. “I got sent back in time to try to help him.”
“Yes,” Lucifer said. “I know.”
Sam blinked. “You do?”
It probably wasn’t the smartest thing he could have said, but he was fresh out of relevant observations. Let alone questions.
“I followed Samael in,” Lucifer said. “She was understandably distraught.”
“Distraught?” Sam repeated. “She was distraught?”
“I stopped to seek your opinion,” Lucifer said. “On my way.”
Sam couldn’t do much more than stare at him.
“Is it normal for human children to ask repetitive questions?” Lucifer asked. Eyeing Sam, he added, “Stop me if you’ve already answered this one.”
“What are you talking about?” Sam wanted to know. It wasn’t until after he’d asked that it occurred to him he should already have a clue. Samael’s foreign words crashed home in a way they hadn’t before and he demanded, “Do you have my kid?”
Lucifer seemed to consider this, which all in all Sam figured was a bad sign.
“I take exception to the possessive,” Lucifer said at last. “My brother did grace me with one of his children, but I’m not sure by what definition he could be considered ‘yours.’”
Sam wasn’t sure either, but he didn’t have a good feeling about it.
“Cas says Maribel is Dean’s,” he said. “Dean’s and his.”
“That’s because Castiel is a romantic traditionalist,” Lucifer replied.
Sam couldn’t help the expression that flickered across his face, and he knew Lucifer saw it because he almost smiled again. Agreement. It had been agreement on his face. Sam was more than a little uncomfortable sharing understanding with the devil, no matter how Dean claimed him, but Castiel. Who couldn’t agree on Castiel?
Normal angels, Sam reminded himself. Normal angels weren’t fond of Cas. They hadn’t been fond of Cas for a long time. Cas had been kicked out, the door slammed shut behind him, and Sam didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Gabriel hadn’t taken him back. But here was Lucifer...
Another fallen angel. Was it possible that Lucifer liked Castiel because he saw something of himself there?
“You look conflicted,” Lucifer observed. “Let me guess: scared yourself by agreeing with me?”
Sam tried to focus on what he knew. “Samael said he’s mine.”
“Then I also take exception to her use of the possessive,” Lucifer said smoothly. “I may be my father’s son, but I belong to no one.”
“Lucifer,” Sam said, and the name felt weird in ways he didn’t want to think about. He was going to get an answer, and it was going to be one he could understand. “Do I have a son?”
He hated that he hesitated. He still couldn’t get his mind around the concept, let alone the actual possibility. He supposed Cas was the one he should be asking. Cas wasn’t here, though, and Lucifer was. He’d deal with the inevitable confusion later.
“Adamel shares some passing similarity with you.” Lucifer might have said it a little slower than he’d confessed the rest. Like he had to think about it. Like maybe he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit it after all.
Sam meant it to come out as a question, but somehow it didn’t. “Adamel,” he echoed.
Lucifer hadn’t lost that almost imperceptible reluctance. “Castiel named him.”
“Castiel named him Adamel?” Sam repeated stupidly.
Lucifer eyed him. “I suppose this speaks to my concern about humans and their repetitive questions. Shall I assume the answer is yes, then?”
Something finally clicked with Sam, and he blurted out, “Did you bring me here to ask me for parenting advice?”
“No.” Lucifer managed to look like that was the last thing on his mind. “I brought you here so you could augment Gabriel’s power with your own so-far unique angel-repelling abilities.”
His confusion must have shown. In fairness, more than half his brain was still trying to process the son thing.
“If you help Gabriel,” Lucifer said, “and I ‘help’ Samael, then between the two of us we may be able to keep either of them from accidentally killing the other.”
Sam was afraid his mouth had temporarily disconnected from his brain. “That sounds like the most uneven game of Four Square ever.”
“I don’t know what Four Square is,” Lucifer replied. “I suggest this, however, not to even the odds but to remove the element of chance entirely. I will hold Samael back as long as you keep Gabriel from going too far.”
For such a timeless place, Sam felt very aware of the seconds ticking by. He agreed not because he understood, but because he knew he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t keep Lucifer from doing whatever he wanted... except maybe taking Sam as a vessel, and that didn’t seem to be a part of this conversation. And it wasn’t like he didn’t want Gabriel back, so if someone had a suggestion – even if that someone was the devil – he felt obligated to listen.
“You know I’m not going to say deal,” he said, when Lucifer looked like he was waiting for more. “Or yes, or anything that could in any way be interpreted as me giving you permission for anything.”
Lucifer’s expression turned vaguely amused, which was just one more variation of creepy on him. “Sam, I’ve only just gotten my family back. I’m not going to risk their wrath for something so currently unnecessary as a better vessel.”
“Wow,” Sam said. “That was so reassuring. Really. You should do motivational seminars.”
“I can make a gesture of faith,” Lucifer said. “Fortunately for you, I do believe you want Gabriel to live. As I’m confident in my own ability to keep Samael from dying, you may do whatever you think best to accomplish this goal. Including exactly what I’ve just told you to do.”
“Fine,” Sam said. “Put me in a position to do it, and I’ll think about it.”
Nothing changed.
Finally, he rolled his eyes at Lucifer. “Okay, what? What now? Why are we still standing here?”
“Not just repetitive,” Lucifer mused, studying him with the truly uncomfortable appearance of a scientist about to dissect a specimen. “But repetitive in a way that actually impedes answering. Interesting.”
Sam knew, of course. Exactly what he was talking about. He glared, and without thinking he snapped, “I want joint custody.”
Lucifer almost looked like he was thinking about it. “You wish to share responsibility for Adamel’s education?”
“I’m part of the family,” Sam reminded him. “I want my angel rights.”
“You’re not an angel,” Lucifer countered.
“I’m his dad,” Sam said.
Lucifer frowned a little. “You didn’t create him.”
Sam almost said, oh, let me ask Cas if he wants to let me see my own son. But since Cas hadn’t even told him it was his son, it seemed likely that angels looked at these things differently enough to cause problems. So instead he said, “He was created in my image.”
This seemed to win him some points. Or at least stump Lucifer for a moment, and Sam considered that a victory.
“Come on,” Sam said. “How many of the other angels do you trust, really? Jophiel won’t let anyone not stationed at an earth garrison take care of her kid, and she has way fewer enemies than you do. Whatever you think of me, you gotta agree I’m less of a threat than your brothers and sisters.”
“You are also significantly less competent than my brothers and sisters,” Lucifer said.
“I’m a lot more competent than they are when it comes to human kids,” Sam retorted.
“Adamel is not human,” Lucifer said.
“Or angel,” Sam finished. “It’s gonna take more than just you guys to raise these kids, and you know it. Let me help.”
“I’m not saying yes,” Lucifer said carefully. “Or... deal. Or anything that could be interpreted as me giving permission for anything.”
Sam caught himself just before he would have been amused. “Funny,” he said, in a tone meant to convey how much it wasn’t. “But I know where you live.”
“As threats go,” Lucifer observed, “that lacks specificity.”
“Vagueness is scary,” Sam told him. “Are we gonna go save your family from itself, or what?”
Lucifer didn’t stare at him for nearly as long this time. He didn’t say anything, either. He was just there, standing in the middle of white blankness, and then he wasn’t.
Neither of them were.
Sam was right back on his tree branch, arm outstretched. He felt Gabriel’s hand clasp his before he saw him, which might have been because his eyes were still adjusting, and he pulled. Hard. He could only assume that somewhere, Lucifer was doing the same to Samael, because nothing followed them when they went over the other side.
(All prompts from
au_bingo ~ custom card.)“You’re very persistent,” Lucifer’s voice said from somewhere behind him.
Sam’s fists clenched, but he was careful not to turn. Sometimes looking made things real. Sometimes it didn’t. He wasn’t taking any chances in the middle of a vast white nothingness.
“One might almost think Gabriel had done something for you,” Lucifer continued. “A favor, maybe. One so great that you feel you owe him, I don’t know... your life?”
Sam would have rolled his eyes if it wasn’t the devil talking. He was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to roll your eyes at the devil. He was completely sure there was nothing he could say – nothing that would make the situation better, anyway – so he kept his mouth shut.
“I’ll tell you something, Sam.” Hearing Lucifer say his name never failed to set his teeth on edge. “A family secret, if you will.”
Great, Sam thought. This should go well.
“I like Michael,” Lucifer continued. “Against my better judgment sometimes, but no one’s perfect. And he likes you.”
Yeah, Sam thought. Definitely headed straight for Creepy Town.
“Gabriel’s our brother,” Lucifer said, like this was news to anyone. “Our younger brother. And I promise you, there’s no deal you could have made with him that Michael and I can’t get you out of.”
“Okay,” Sam said. He turned around, because this was past weird and rumbling right toward what the fuck. “First off, I’m starting to get why Gabriel’s such an asshole. You guys are great role models, you know that? And second, what the hell do I owe him? The guy faked Dean’s death a billion times and trapped us in endless reruns of TV’s Worst 100. He’s lucky I haven’t killed him.”
“And yet,” Lucifer said, studying him through disconcertingly blue eyes. “You haven’t.”
“Yeah, they taught us in kindergarten that guns aren’t the way to solve our problems,” Sam told him.
The corner of his mouth quirked, and for a moment Sam thought Lucifer might actually smile. “Gabriel has been shot many times,” he said instead. “So far it hasn’t seemed to stick.”
“We tried pointy sticks,” Sam said. “Holy fire worked better.”
Lucifer raised his eyebrows. “You burned Gabriel with holy fire?”
The tone was deceptively calm, but Sam wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the fact that Lucifer could turn him to dust without even trying. He seemed, somehow, so much more dangerous than Gabriel. Like Gabriel’s arrogant, bitchy facade meant that he could be reasoned with, while Lucifer’s cool distance was exactly that: distance.
Unspannable. Uncrossable. Inevitably alien.
“No burning,” Sam said. “We might have... trapped him. Long enough to ask him some questions.”
“I suspect you’re not the first to wish you could do that,” Lucifer remarked, and the chill faded slightly. “It does, however, leave me with my own questions. Still unanswered.”
“I don’t owe him anything,” Sam repeated. “He’s my friend, and I’m tired of seeing my friends get killed. Isn’t that enough?”
“No one wants Gabriel dead,” Lucifer said. He said it like he believed it, which was odd but Sam was standing in the middle of nothing and it was all glowing white, so odd was a relative thing. He did, at least, know better than to call Lucifer a liar to his face.
“Then someone screwed up,” Sam told him. “Because he died. C –” He started to say it, then realized belatedly that invoking other angels’ names to Lucifer might not be something they would thank him for. “I got sent back in time to try to help him.”
“Yes,” Lucifer said. “I know.”
Sam blinked. “You do?”
It probably wasn’t the smartest thing he could have said, but he was fresh out of relevant observations. Let alone questions.
“I followed Samael in,” Lucifer said. “She was understandably distraught.”
“Distraught?” Sam repeated. “She was distraught?”
“I stopped to seek your opinion,” Lucifer said. “On my way.”
Sam couldn’t do much more than stare at him.
“Is it normal for human children to ask repetitive questions?” Lucifer asked. Eyeing Sam, he added, “Stop me if you’ve already answered this one.”
“What are you talking about?” Sam wanted to know. It wasn’t until after he’d asked that it occurred to him he should already have a clue. Samael’s foreign words crashed home in a way they hadn’t before and he demanded, “Do you have my kid?”
Lucifer seemed to consider this, which all in all Sam figured was a bad sign.
“I take exception to the possessive,” Lucifer said at last. “My brother did grace me with one of his children, but I’m not sure by what definition he could be considered ‘yours.’”
Sam wasn’t sure either, but he didn’t have a good feeling about it.
“Cas says Maribel is Dean’s,” he said. “Dean’s and his.”
“That’s because Castiel is a romantic traditionalist,” Lucifer replied.
Sam couldn’t help the expression that flickered across his face, and he knew Lucifer saw it because he almost smiled again. Agreement. It had been agreement on his face. Sam was more than a little uncomfortable sharing understanding with the devil, no matter how Dean claimed him, but Castiel. Who couldn’t agree on Castiel?
Normal angels, Sam reminded himself. Normal angels weren’t fond of Cas. They hadn’t been fond of Cas for a long time. Cas had been kicked out, the door slammed shut behind him, and Sam didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Gabriel hadn’t taken him back. But here was Lucifer...
Another fallen angel. Was it possible that Lucifer liked Castiel because he saw something of himself there?
“You look conflicted,” Lucifer observed. “Let me guess: scared yourself by agreeing with me?”
Sam tried to focus on what he knew. “Samael said he’s mine.”
“Then I also take exception to her use of the possessive,” Lucifer said smoothly. “I may be my father’s son, but I belong to no one.”
“Lucifer,” Sam said, and the name felt weird in ways he didn’t want to think about. He was going to get an answer, and it was going to be one he could understand. “Do I have a son?”
He hated that he hesitated. He still couldn’t get his mind around the concept, let alone the actual possibility. He supposed Cas was the one he should be asking. Cas wasn’t here, though, and Lucifer was. He’d deal with the inevitable confusion later.
“Adamel shares some passing similarity with you.” Lucifer might have said it a little slower than he’d confessed the rest. Like he had to think about it. Like maybe he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit it after all.
Sam meant it to come out as a question, but somehow it didn’t. “Adamel,” he echoed.
Lucifer hadn’t lost that almost imperceptible reluctance. “Castiel named him.”
“Castiel named him Adamel?” Sam repeated stupidly.
Lucifer eyed him. “I suppose this speaks to my concern about humans and their repetitive questions. Shall I assume the answer is yes, then?”
Something finally clicked with Sam, and he blurted out, “Did you bring me here to ask me for parenting advice?”
“No.” Lucifer managed to look like that was the last thing on his mind. “I brought you here so you could augment Gabriel’s power with your own so-far unique angel-repelling abilities.”
His confusion must have shown. In fairness, more than half his brain was still trying to process the son thing.
“If you help Gabriel,” Lucifer said, “and I ‘help’ Samael, then between the two of us we may be able to keep either of them from accidentally killing the other.”
Sam was afraid his mouth had temporarily disconnected from his brain. “That sounds like the most uneven game of Four Square ever.”
“I don’t know what Four Square is,” Lucifer replied. “I suggest this, however, not to even the odds but to remove the element of chance entirely. I will hold Samael back as long as you keep Gabriel from going too far.”
For such a timeless place, Sam felt very aware of the seconds ticking by. He agreed not because he understood, but because he knew he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t keep Lucifer from doing whatever he wanted... except maybe taking Sam as a vessel, and that didn’t seem to be a part of this conversation. And it wasn’t like he didn’t want Gabriel back, so if someone had a suggestion – even if that someone was the devil – he felt obligated to listen.
“You know I’m not going to say deal,” he said, when Lucifer looked like he was waiting for more. “Or yes, or anything that could in any way be interpreted as me giving you permission for anything.”
Lucifer’s expression turned vaguely amused, which was just one more variation of creepy on him. “Sam, I’ve only just gotten my family back. I’m not going to risk their wrath for something so currently unnecessary as a better vessel.”
“Wow,” Sam said. “That was so reassuring. Really. You should do motivational seminars.”
“I can make a gesture of faith,” Lucifer said. “Fortunately for you, I do believe you want Gabriel to live. As I’m confident in my own ability to keep Samael from dying, you may do whatever you think best to accomplish this goal. Including exactly what I’ve just told you to do.”
“Fine,” Sam said. “Put me in a position to do it, and I’ll think about it.”
Nothing changed.
Finally, he rolled his eyes at Lucifer. “Okay, what? What now? Why are we still standing here?”
“Not just repetitive,” Lucifer mused, studying him with the truly uncomfortable appearance of a scientist about to dissect a specimen. “But repetitive in a way that actually impedes answering. Interesting.”
Sam knew, of course. Exactly what he was talking about. He glared, and without thinking he snapped, “I want joint custody.”
Lucifer almost looked like he was thinking about it. “You wish to share responsibility for Adamel’s education?”
“I’m part of the family,” Sam reminded him. “I want my angel rights.”
“You’re not an angel,” Lucifer countered.
“I’m his dad,” Sam said.
Lucifer frowned a little. “You didn’t create him.”
Sam almost said, oh, let me ask Cas if he wants to let me see my own son. But since Cas hadn’t even told him it was his son, it seemed likely that angels looked at these things differently enough to cause problems. So instead he said, “He was created in my image.”
This seemed to win him some points. Or at least stump Lucifer for a moment, and Sam considered that a victory.
“Come on,” Sam said. “How many of the other angels do you trust, really? Jophiel won’t let anyone not stationed at an earth garrison take care of her kid, and she has way fewer enemies than you do. Whatever you think of me, you gotta agree I’m less of a threat than your brothers and sisters.”
“You are also significantly less competent than my brothers and sisters,” Lucifer said.
“I’m a lot more competent than they are when it comes to human kids,” Sam retorted.
“Adamel is not human,” Lucifer said.
“Or angel,” Sam finished. “It’s gonna take more than just you guys to raise these kids, and you know it. Let me help.”
“I’m not saying yes,” Lucifer said carefully. “Or... deal. Or anything that could be interpreted as me giving permission for anything.”
Sam caught himself just before he would have been amused. “Funny,” he said, in a tone meant to convey how much it wasn’t. “But I know where you live.”
“As threats go,” Lucifer observed, “that lacks specificity.”
“Vagueness is scary,” Sam told him. “Are we gonna go save your family from itself, or what?”
Lucifer didn’t stare at him for nearly as long this time. He didn’t say anything, either. He was just there, standing in the middle of white blankness, and then he wasn’t.
Neither of them were.
Sam was right back on his tree branch, arm outstretched. He felt Gabriel’s hand clasp his before he saw him, which might have been because his eyes were still adjusting, and he pulled. Hard. He could only assume that somewhere, Lucifer was doing the same to Samael, because nothing followed them when they went over the other side.
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Date: 2010-07-16 08:30 pm (UTC)Lucifer and Sam discussing custody is hilarious. And how they try and verbally out do each other to come out on top. Oh boys, you'll never stop being rivals, will you? I am loving this verse.
I am writing some strange new Supernatural pairings for me :) There's some Jo/Lucifer coming really soon. And weirdly, an idea for a Gabriel/Castiel - which is super weird for me! Send me inspiration and good thoughts! I've written a little three-fic series of Anna/Crowley if you're interested in reading? They make me smile :) Let me know if you want the links.
So much love and blessings to you xoxox