#slbb15

[i-bet-you-wish-i]

Aaaand another part of SamiferBigBang for this wonderful story "Amend" by amazing talesfromperdition

Another style but oh well... young Luci is a bitch to draw ( to be fair Luci in general is a bitch to draw), but I tried, should I draw the boys at least once~

Thanks again guys, it was a lot fun~♥

[i-bet-you-wish-i]

Friggin finally my part of SamiferBigBang \*O*/ for this wonderful story "Amend" by amazing talesfromperdition

At first I aimed for something mignola-like but who am I kiddin? that was fun summer anyway~

[jorieds]

SLBB15 SNIPPET

This is my snippet for the SLBB. Basically, the beginning.

Rating: M for mentions of slavery and abuse. 

Summary: “It wasn’t a pull or some kind of energy that pulled him towards that collar. There wasn’t any magic, spark in the air, or an ‘it must be mine’ thought invading him that compelled him to buy it. He just saw it, thought about the similarities it had with the one he had given Dean when they were kids, and bought it. Easy and normal as any other previous purchase…

Maybe if his brother hadn’t called him that morning, making him remember of their old adventures, he wouldn’t have bought it. Not even cast a glance at it. Maybe if it hadn’t looked so dirty under the light of his kitchen, he wouldn’t have clean it with a piece of cloth either.”

Or an AU in which Lucifer is a genie and Sam is his unsolicited master.

Saying that Sam was astounded would be an understatement. A big, really big one. Though given the fact that it wasn’t everyday thing to see a person appearing from thin air in the middle of your living room while you cleaned some piece of jewelry, no one should blame him.

Especially because, as soon as the man appeared, he knelt with such an inhuman elegance, his head bowed and, even if their eyes never met, Sam knew he was talking; there was noise and he could see somehow the movement of the other’s lips. He was half hearing him though, because it was really hard for his brain to think in something besides the obvious: A. Man. Just. Appeared. From. Fucking. Nowhere.

“Are you fine, master?” the man said, and even if his voice and smile were polite, there was a hidden mocking edge in his words that made the curl of his lips sharper somehow. The man tilted his head up and Sam got a better look of his clenched teeth. “How long are you going to space out, may I ask?”

Sam would have frowned at the tone if he wasn’t still very surprised. He glanced at his door, trying to think in some logical answer, but his brain was still in halt.

Sam shook his head, trying to clear his head, so he could think calmly about his situation.

“Never let your eyes wander from the threat until you know it’s safe,” his mind provided with what suspiciously sounded like Dean’s voice.

His eyes returned to the blond man, to observe him. The possible danger he could be. After a quick glance, he couldn’t find one. Sam realized that he could easily overpower him. The man was not thin but some of his bones were clear to look at through the pale skin that looked as if it hadn’t seen the light of the sun in a long time. His hair didn’t shone and there were light bags under his eyes. He barely looked healthy. But Sam didn’t let that trick him because even with those physical characteristics, the man emanated a power that made him want to recoil and run away. One would think the most startling thing would be the clothes (or more like the lack of clothes, because he was just wearing some kind of weird pants and some jewelry), but the eyes were what stricken him the most. They haven’t locked eyes yet but there was something in the icy blue that looked ageless and as if there was a hidden, dark, knowledge behind them. Something told him he didn’t want to meet those eyes.

The man cocked his head to the side, his lips curling politely.

“Perhaps you have fallen from your crib as a youngling and now you cannot process information properly? Should I repeat slowly what I have said perhaps, master?

Okay, that wasn’t very polite.

Sam didn’t answer and the man obviously thought Sam had some kind of brain damage. That’s the only thing that expression could mean.

“You are the collar’s new owner. You gave the necessary respects to it. It makes you my master.” The man bowed his head once, somehow stiffly. His once ageless eyes now looked vacant and subdued. “I’m here to serve you and do as you wish,” he added.

Okay, Sam was going to have a panic attack any time now. His palms were already clammy and his lungs were starting to burn with every breath he took. He tried to swallow it and take a deep breath to clear his throat, trying to not show his discomfort at all. “Is Dean the one behind this?”

The man’s eyebrow rose.

Okay, he totally deserved that look. He did just saw the man appearing from thin air just a moment ago. Fuck. Get over that, Winchester. You’ve more problems to deal with, Sam thought, backing away a step more. It startled him when he felt the wall against his back. He couldn’t remember when he had backed off so much but his hand had started to tremble, his mouth was dry and heavy. Sam clenched his fist once as he tried to stood up and go to the kitchen; carefully trying to walk around the still kneeling man whose eyes were on the floor.

“I need some water,” Sam said as a way of explanation, he didn’t know why.

He was stopped by the sound of snapping fingers. In the next second, the man was again in front of him, his right knee, and left hand touching the floor as he held a weird-looking glass full of water between the fingertips f his free hand.

Sam shut his eyes tightly. “Okay, none of this is real. This is just a dream. I returned tired from work and fell asleep on the couch. Yes, that happened. I haven’t slept well in days, surely, when I open my eyes there won’t be a man in my living room. I’ll be alone and return to dream normal things again.”

There wasn’t any sound that could confirm him if he was truly accompanied or no, so he opened his eyes slowly. There were bright spots appearing in his sight for shutting them so tightly but he blinked a couple times and he could see everything normal once more. There wasn’t a man in front of him.

Sam sighed in relief, fingers running through his hair as he collapsed on the couch. He was alone in the room. It had been a hallucination.

Once relaxed, he glanced at the spot on the floor where the collar fell from his fingertips. He frowned at it cautiously but didn’t move to grab it, just concentrated in steadying his beating heart.

.

[wolfycas]

SLBB15 Snippet!

Sorry it took me so long to post! I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 1: Cthulhu and Coffee

Sam heard the jingle of the bells alerting him that someone had just entered his book store. He hurriedly placed the last four books in his hands onto their respective shelves and quickly tucked his hair behind his ears as he made his way to the front of the store. He painted on his “business owner” smile and approached the man.

The man was smaller than Sam, in height and weight. As Sam closed the distance between them, he noticed the dark-haired man had already made his way to the Classic Horror Fiction section and was flipping through an H.P. Lovecraft novel and Sam spoke finally, “’Toil without song is like a weary journey without an end.’”

The smaller man jumped out of his skin and turned around quickly. He wistfully smiled once he noticed Sam before speaking.

“That’s beautiful. What is that from?”

Sam was shocked at the course gravel that poured from the man’s mouth, a stark contrast to what Sam expected to hear from a man hardly 6 foot tall. Sam chuckled and pointed toward the novel still clasped in the man’s hand as he answered, “It’s a Lovecraft quote. I saw you checking out one of his novels and figured it would be a good way to introduce myself. My name is Sam Winchester, I’m the owner of this shop.” He smiled again, extending his hand to the stranger.

The man took his hand then and shook it firmly twice before replying, “My name is Castiel Novak. I’ve never read an H.P. Lovecraft novel before, but I was recommended to check out his work by... a friend. My brother owns the tattoo shop a couple of buildings away from yours. I was in the neighborhood and figured I would come in here to check out your selection.”

Sam chuckled and murmured, “Damn, if my brother Dean were here, he’d be flipping out and showing you every great Lovecraft novel that I have stocked.”

Castiel nodded and looked down suddenly at the copy of At the Mountains of Madness held in his hands before informing Sam that he was ready to make his purchase. They made their way to the front counter and made small talk as Sam checked Castiel out, ran his card, and then handed over the novel inside of a brown paper bag with the name of his shop, The Men of Letters Book Store, stamped across the front. Castiel thanked Sam, and Sam thanked him back with a pat on the back and a warm invite to return any time he liked.

Sam heard the bell jingle once more, proving Castiel had exited before returning to his work of stocking the shelves. He had heard of the tattoo shop- well, more like he had physically heard the tattoo shop. There was a constant thump of bass coming from the building which made Sam angry on more than one occasion. He figured the City of Chicago would cite them eventually for the constant blast of metal music, but apparently they hadn't. Sam was pretty pissed the night before as he tried to read his favorite Vonnegut novel after closing up the shop. Rightfully so, he believed, because he was unable to focus from the sound of bass reverberating throughout his entire building. Just as he felt the irritation running through him once again at the thought, Dean entered the store with his usual yell of, “Ay, Sammy!”

Dean made his way to the aisle Sam was stocking and removed a few books from the cart Sam was dragging around, placing the books in their correct spaces as he instantly delved into his re-cap of his night.

“Sorry I’m late, dude. Clingy chicks, you know? They always wanna stay for breakfast.” Dean said as he laughed, causing Sam to shake his head.

“You know your dick is going to fall off from all the incessant humping you do, right? Do you even remember her name?”

Dean’s smile was all teeth as he replied shortly, “Nope! But I got us coffee. Next best thing, huh? Left it on the counter.”

Sam laughed then, shaking his head once more before following Dean toward the front of the shop to retrieve their to-go cups. Sam took a big gulp before mentioning, “You just missed it, dude. Weirdest guy came in just a couple of minutes before you and bought a Lovecraft book. Apparently, his brother is the dick that owns that tattoo shop around the corner.”

Dean choked mid sip on his coffee and began hacking up a lung. Sam watched him curiously until Dean finished his fit.

“Castiel?”

“Uh, yeah. You know him?”

“Oh, yeah, he works at a coffee shop I go to sometimes. He’s cool.”

Sam laughed and added, “He’s kinda weird.”

Dean rolled his eyes, saying, “Eh, he’s just a little different. Cool guy though. Weird coincidence. Also, speaking of that tattoo shop, try to close a little earlier tonight. We have tattoo appointments at 10 PM there.”

Sam’s eyes bugged out of his head as he stared at his older brother before speaking up.

“Uh, no. Not the tattoo type, Dean. I’m not getting tattooed.”

“Shut up, Sammy, stop being a bitch. It’s just a little one. It’s just the uh…” Dean trailed off before finishing his sentence quietly, “it’s that symbol mom and dad always kept around the house.”

Shit. Sam felt guilt creep throughout his body until it was shown all over his face. Dean was staring at his own boot-clad feet when Sam spoke softly in reply, “Alright, Dean. I’ll try to close early.”

Dean looked up at Sam and beamed before taking his coffee back with him toward the cart of unstocked books as he yelled over his shoulder, “It’s gonna be fun, dude! Our first tattoos!”

Sam collapsed into the nearest chair and sighed heavily, burying his head into his hands. Screw Dean for knowing how to get Sam to agree to a damn tattoo. At that place especially. He took two huge gulps of his coffee and shook his head, mumbling to himself, “Whatever, Dean. Tattoos today, murder tomorrow.”

[foreverdc-comics]

SLBB15 snippet

So I’m writing a fic for thesamifercommunity ‘s slbb :)

It’s from one of the earlier chapters, so not much spoilers here!

The therapist took one look at him, shook his head at Lucifer’s lateness despite his limp, and gestured him to sit on one of the ratty, roach-infested chairs they have here. Lucifer crushes a small cockroach between his thumb and index finger.

Three hours ago, that morning, he was subjected to the electrical torture that left his arm shaking throughout lunch. The constant ache in his hurt leg throbbed with every small movement. Although his entire body felt like it was on fire Lucifer showed none of it. To the good doctor? He was just plain late.

A nurse went around handing them bibles. She must be new, a recent addition to the staff here. They don’t last for very long. Most of them either quit after a week or stay for the rest of their lives. An old wedding ring, plain gold, rests on her finger.

She leaves the room. Lucifer forgets about her, focusing on the heavy book in his hands instead. His fingers grip tight around it’s leather bound covers. The bible is a heavy book, it’s embedded golden letters a large part of his childhood. There was always a cross on the wall, the tortured, macabre body of Jesus Christ pinned to the wooden symbol.

The book itself made up his bedtime stories. Michael, his father, and even his mother on occasion would read it to him, even when Lucifer was too young to understand he knew that this book was important to his family. He could sill quote most of the book off by heart. Lucifer did remember the punishment for forgetting a verse, after all. No dinner, and an hour in the closet. As he said, the bible was an important book for his family.

“..Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: It is abomination.” King James bible, Leviticus eighteen twenty two. That one was thrown at Lucifer quite often at home. He expected to hear it in this place, of course, but the words still cut at him like a knife. Even strangers would despise him if they knew of his preference for men over women, whether it be sexual or romantic relations. Damn them all, Lucifer thought. Humanity, in his opinion, was an infestation on the surface of this earth, as the original Lucifer has said. Bar himself, of course. And those that he hold in esteem. Lucifer has always been a prideful boy who thought that he was a better man than most. Some would call that an issue of personality. He would say that most of humanity did not deserve his respect.

“Milton? Milton!” The old man with stern eyes and greying hair calls out, and Lucifer snaps out of his thoughts.

“Repeat after me. All of you.” Lucifer glances around. There are several other men here, five or six in all, including himself. Most of them are his age, or older, but there is one boy that looked even younger than him.

“Thou shalt not lie with mankind....” The voices, some strained and others barely heard, rises up in unison. Bullshit, Lucifer thought. He remains mostly bored, and slightly strained. He taps on his injured leg.

“...as with womankind...” Lucifer looks up. The old doctor/preacher/whatever he was meets his eyes.

“It is abomination.”

[talesfromperdition]

Samifer BigBang - Snippet

Here is the first scene in my Samifer Big Bang, which will be completed and posted sometime in September.

Pairings: Samifer (Sam/Lucifer), Destiel (Dean/Castiel), Michael/Adam Rating: R Possible Warnings: Experimentation on humans, human-animal hybrids, oppressive government, Distopian!AU, resistance movement, violence, language, probably sex

Summary: Sixty years after a new force – named Grace – has been discovered, scientists have found a way to create animal-human hybrids who can act as proxies so that humans can use the seemingly magical force. The Men of Letters, a government contractor, has created a Unit of human-hybrid pairs to track down illegal or escaped hybrids. After a routine mission goes awry, the Unit must decide what's more important: following the mission or joining the fight for hybrid rights.

Sam watched Dean move up the block from the north, arms bare and hands at the ready, from his position in the alley southwest of the church. His brother was quick on his feet, silent, and even though the place was like a ghost town at this time of night, if someone had been looking they wouldn't have seen Dean approach. When he was hidden from Sam's sight again, static filled the Comm in his ear for a second before Castiel's deep voice announced, "Cain has hit the mark."

There was a soft snicker from Dean over the Comm because he always laughed when Castiel said that.

As skillful as Dean was at creeping through the landscape, Adam was even better. Sam didn't see him move until his position was revealed over the Comm. A quiet, "Baby Boy has hit the mark," from Michael was what it took for Sam to finally see the outline of his younger brother squatting down next to a porch to the east. Michael and Castiel were nowhere to be seen, but from the alley, he knew they would be up high, on the roof, ready for the go ahead.

Despite the fact that Lucifer was always the easiest one to see at night, he was the one to give the final survey and give the go ahead. Sam watched as Lucifer's massive white wings came into sight, gliding him down from a thermal. He couldn't see the man's features, but knew he would be looking around, scoping for any sign that the targets had vacated the church. There was an undeniable beauty of watching the hybrids fly; Michael and Castiel were impressive, too, but Sam had always been drawn to Lucifer.

It was natural, Sam knew, for a human to be drawn to his proxy.

But watching Lucifer fly was mesmerizing. The white stood out against the darkness, drawing Sam's eyes to him, to the minute adjustments in his primary feathers to guide him slightly to one side or the other was a sight that Sam could never look away from.

He angled himself up just as he was approaching the cross at the top of the church's steeple, giving him time to move his hips forward. He stepped down onto the cross, perching on the side of it with no effort, and Sam let out a breath that he hoped the Comm wouldn't pick up.

Despite the fact that Sam couldn't see the grace that connected them, he could feel a pull on it right before Lucifer addressed him. 'Eyes on the prize, King.'

'We don't have to use code names telepathically,' Sam returned, but he lowered his eyes from the top of the church to its entrance, where he was supposed to be watching for movement. If this had been a training exercise, with cameras everywhere so the Men of Letters could dissect their every move for faults, he would have received hell for watching Lucifer instead of covering his mark. Being out in the field hadn't done anything to improve his concentration.

Through their shared grace, Sam felt Lucifer's happiness as he thought, 'You're always the King, Sam.' Any response would have to wait until later, Sam knew, when Lucifer's voice migrated from his head to the Comm in his ear. "Hawk and Crow, you're clear to touch down."

From opposite directions, Sam caught a glimpse of brown and black – far more camouflaged in the darkness than Lucifer's brilliant white – as they descended from their rooftops to join the humans on the ground.

With five of the six members of their Unit on the ground, prepared to fight, Sam felt his fingers flexing. He smoothed his hand over his bare arm, brushing his palm from his wrist all the way up to his sleeve at his shoulder, performing one last test of mobility. They had been on hundreds of missions, and thousands of trainings before that, but he couldn't stop the impulse to do one last check right before they burst in, metaphorical guns blazing.

Lucifer's voice came over the Comm again. "On my count: Three, Two, One."

There was a beat after Lucifer's count where there was silence in the air. Then, there was an explosion on top of the roof. The others were moving in, making their way toward the church, but Sam held back for a moment, watching Lucifer take off from his perch, angling himself to a head drive through the hole he created in the church's roof.

Then Sam started moving in, too.

Despite the fact that they were well trained and fit, Sam could hear his brothers' breathing over the Comm, and knew that his breath was heightened with adrenalin, too. By the time he made it to the front of the church, the rest of the Unit was already inside. It was dark, but one of the hybrids must have used grace to create a glowing orb in the rooms. It made it easier for the humans to see, and one after another, he heard different members of the unit announce what room they were in as they checked, and cleared, the rooms of hostiles.

The sanctuary was near the front of the church. Entering from the gathering area, Sam drew his hands up, ready to touch any part of his arm that he may need. His steps slowed when he saw the converted altar. On the wall behind the altar, there was a crucifix, but Jesus had been vandalized. Sheets had been cut into the shape of wings, and they were outstretched behind him, not unlike Lucifer's hybridization. His fingers held claws, and his arms were covered in fur, a classic sign of werewolf hybrids. His eyes were painted blue and there were marking around his face mimicking the djinn hybrids. The more he looked, the more he could pick out markers of the different hybrids: vampire, shapeshifter, rugaru...

Anything that had been created as a hybrid was meshed together up there.

It was so disconcerting, Sam didn't notice the cage on the altar until he heard the rattling.

By the time Sam made it on the altar, his brothers had made it to the room. Each of them had a human captive walking in front of them. Dean was barking orders at the bigger man. The hostage's hands were behind his back, rune-proof gloves cuffed to him, and half of his shirt was still smoldering. Adam's hand was raised behind the smaller man, who looked a little younger than Adam. The smaller one was crying.

"I'm sorry," he whined, and the cage jostled on top of the altar.

It was an adult, male, but the wildness of it proved it was a wendigo. Wendigos were hybrids between two humans – while in theory it seemed as if human-human pairings would be much like having a child – something always ended up wrong. While each of the hybrids varieties developed certain animalistic tics, wendigos always developed the same one: a craving for human flesh.

'Wendigo,' Sam thought to Lucifer.

The reply was nearly instantiations: 'Really? We've never seen one of those before. Don't let Michael kill it before I see it.'

Michael and Castiel both entered the Sanctuary from the back door, and after acknowledging that the hybrid was caged, they moved past the threat of imitate danger to check on their humans. Adam had a bruise on his face, and Michael took the youngest boy's face in his hands, assessing the damage.

Dean shot a wink at Castiel. They were communicating through grace, and Sam looked away, refusing to subject himself to them.

By the time Lucifer burst through the door, Adam had shaken Michael off, and the eldest hybrid was staring into the cage with fascination. For training purposes, the Men of Letters had acquired all sorts of different hybrids for the unit to practice tracking down and euthanizing different sub-species, but never a wendigo.

Henry Winchester had abhorred the thought of mixing humans, stating there was no advantage to trying to create full-humans who could manipulate grace. He put all his money and energy behind the Milton formula for creating proxies. A fortune would have been made if the Winchester and Milton lines had sold the formula to private companies; unfortunately, they had been Men of Letters. The government didn't pay nearly as well, but at least they had some pride.

After a few minutes of silent analyzing from the six of them, Dean asked what Sam figured they were all thinking. "Do we kill it?"

"Yes," Michael said, tilting his head. The thrashing man inside the cage didn't appear to understand them. "Our orders are to kill any and all escaped hybrids."

"Yeah, but a wendigo?" Lucifer asked. "Maker will want to see him."

"No, he won't," Michael responded. "Maker always told us how dangerous other experiments could be. He won't want to risk transport, just so the Men of Letters can euthanize him themselves. That's our job."

"Please," the younger hostage howled. Sam looked up at him. "He's our brother. Please, you can't kill him."

"He's your brother?" Dean asked.

"Brothers like us?" Castiel asked, gesturing behind him to Michael and Lucifer, before turning his attention to the Winchesters. "Or brothers like them?"

The boy just sobbed, and that was answer enough.

"Fuck," Dean muttered.

"Three wendigos?" Sam asked, needlessly, and the unit fell silent again.

Overhead, the orbs that one of the hybrids had created faltered, and Castiel looked up at it, frowning. It stabilized, but the odd lighting did nothing to help the moment pass. The hybrid Jesus hung on the wall, his djinn-blue eyes staring down at them. The shadows casted over the pews made everything seem darker than it was, dirtier than Sam knew it would be.

Behind the bigger man, Dean's fingers twitched, but he didn't reach out for the comfort Sam knew he craved. Castiel's wings spread behind him, feathers touching against Dean's tattooed bicep. His elder brother stilled.

"Are there more of you?" Michael asked quietly. "Not more wendigos, I mean, this is a church. Where is your congregation?"

At the silence that met them, Lucifer spoke up to clarify. "The people. Who worships here?"

Finally, the elder hostage talked. "The people don't worship us," he said, pausing when the wendigo in the cage thrashed. He looked at his brother, pained, then looked at Michael, correctly assuming that he was in charge. Unfortunately, Michael was their unspoken leader because of his willingness to follow orders. The man's pleas to be spared would fall on deaf ears. "Not really. They worship grace, and any hybrid that can manipulate the grace. When our brother turned, they caught him and kept him in a cage, but we can't… he's too far to gone to use grace anymore and we're not far enough along."

"Please, don't kill him," the younger one sobbed, again.

"It's a mercy," Michael said, looking down at the cage. Sam noticed that his blade had been summoned in his hand, and it didn't really matter how many times they were called to execute a mistake, an unsanctioned hybrid. It never really got easier for Sam. He was rarely the one who had to deliver the final blow – Michael or Dean usually had that honor – but Sam was grateful for it. He felt guilty and disgusting for weeks after kills. "Especially for a wendigo. He's so far gone, now, he can't recognize you. The other hybrids we come after... it's a mercy to kill them, too. With power comes responsibility, and with the power undocumented, illegal hybrid-human pairs have, they can do serious damage to friendly populations."

At that, the younger boy's tears started again, not that Sam could blame him. The blade that had been created to destroy the other experiments was intimidating; it looked like a spear made of metal, and it was grace-resistant. Grace could be used to push bullets aside or alter traditional weapons. There were very few things that didn't react with grace, and Michael's blade was one of them.

Sam looked away when the hybrid stuck the blade around the bars of the cage, sinking it into the wendigo. Sometimes, hybrids fought until the end. Sam remembered a few months ago when a werewolf refused to go down. It took all the grace Michael, Lucifer, and Castiel could muster to hold him still enough. Sam and Adam were physically holding the thing down, and Dean still struggled to stab the thing enough to kill it.

That had been a rough hunt. Michael had sprained one of his wings had been incapacitated for several weeks; Adam had gotten a bloody nose from pulling too much on their bond to use the grace.

This had been easy, in comparison. There was almost no work to be done, and the wendigo slumped over in the cage relatively noiselessly. The other two didn't see it coming when Dean and Adam pushed their blades into their back, but because of it, they went quietly, too.

Still, Sam felt a pull in his chest.

He looked up, and Lucifer was looking over at him, frowning. Although there was no pull at the grace that bonded them, Sam didn't need the words. The look was enough.

The worse part about the kill was the clean up. With the grace, it wasn't difficult work. Experimental hybrids couldn't be buried; if they were dug up, scientists could reverse engineer the specific DNA sequencing, which depending on the type of hybrid, could have massive benefits. Most scientists knew how to splice the genes, but few of them could do it as well as Chuck Shurley could.

It was a flick of the wrist and a gentle touch for Dean, who had the rune for proxy-assisted pyrokinesis tattooed in his forearm. Adam had the rune on him as well, and between the two of them, they could control a blaze hot enough to turn the hybrids to ash.

Sam was never asked to help, even though there were three bodies. When they had first been learning runes that would heighten and focus certain aspects of grace, there had been an incident. Lucifer and Sam set off the fire alarm, but the chamber door slammed shut before they could escape. They were stuck in a room with a fire neither could put out, and since that day, Lucifer had never been able to give Sam more than a spark, which was fine for both of them.

Instead, they collected samples.

Lucifer took the pictures, uploaded instantly to the Men of Letter's server a thousand miles away. The chatter of Sam's father was likely in Lucifer's ear, if the perpetual grimace on his face was any guess. Luckily, Dr. Shurley was much easier to deal with.

"A wendigo?" Chuck's voice asked through the Comm. "They're exceedingly rare."

"Lucifer tried to get Michael to let us bring it to you," Sam said with a laugh. From a rafter high above, Lucifer was perched, taking pictures of the hybrid Jesus. "It didn't work of course."

"Of course," Chuck agreed, sighing. "Different subspecies have different levels of loyalty and free will, even among birds. Hawks, as you may guess, are superior hunters to doves. But doves are resourceful, and even though they're not very good at building nests, they'll use all the tools at their disposal to do it. Because of their sequencing, Michael is much better at staying focused at the singular task at hand. Lucifer and Castiel are far more likely take risks for what they believe to be the greater good."

"And," Sam grinned, watching as Lucifer tucked his wings behind him, tipping off the rafter backwards, completely at ease with his ability to right himself and open his wings to touch down softly. "Hawks, doves, and crows have been known to mate for life."

Chuck laughed. "Of course. You probably know more about birds than I do at this point."

"Nobody can know more than you do."

Lucifer winced, digging his Comm out of ear. "John wants to know if you collected DNA samples for confirmation of the kill."

Sam sighed, and Lucifer just put his Comm back in. "Of course he did," he snapped. His expression changed instantly, face turning pale and he shook his head. "No, I'm sorry, sir."

Sam moved closer to his partner, reaching a hand out to brush against his forearm. Lucifer held it up, and Sam wrapped his hand around the shorter man's wrist, feeling the light, hollow bones. It was a necessity for flight, but Sam could never accept how easily the hybrids could be hurt.

Lucifer nodded, silently. Sam couldn't hear John, but it was obvious from Lucifer's face that whatever his father was shouting into the Comm was malicious.

"Alright, bitches," Dean announced, walking back in as he stretched his arms. "Cremation is done. They're boxed and in the satchel."

"Mission complete. Dove out," Lucifer muttered beside him, ripping out his Comm as if it had been burning him. Sam dropped his hand, but Dean didn't pay them any mind. After a quick gesture, Lucifer and Sam followed Dean out. Even though the hybrids could fly to the helicopter much faster, they always walked with the humans.

That, Sam knew, was what it meant to be bonded.

[samiferobsessed-blog]

I’m taking Samifer prompts now!

So send in your AU’s, canon-verse, crossovers, switch-verse,  etc. 

[sweetonmeclarence]

OFFER STILL STANDS TO BE SOMEONE'S BETA FOR THE SLBB15