sirenspull_logs | It's all fire and brimstone baby

Entry tags:

It's all fire and brimstone baby

Who: Sam Merlotte, Lucifer
When: Monday morning
Where: The field
Summary: Sam comes back from an overnight canon update a little... messier. [warning for blood]
Warnings: Blood and gore to start, certainly.
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...Luna? Luna! [Sam Merlotte scratches his way up from the dusty ground, smearing still-hot blood and entrails into the soft earth of the diamond. He gains his footing and looks about, a monster at first glance, all wild blue eyes and a thudding heart. He's still naked, coated in his kill, but these are just details, beneath notice. Luna's face sears across his mind, pale and sweaty, her eyes rolling up. Luna, the woman a universe away.]

Goddammit! [he roars it at the sky, pulling something long and slippery from his matted hair and throwing it at the ground, where it falls with a wet 'plop'. The shifter stares at it and catches his breath, then uselessly swipes his bloody forearm across his bloody face.] Fuck.

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Michael's gone. I guess they traded out him for you. [And he sounds sickeningly bitter and heartbroken, but the fact is that he has Sam here with him anyway. It speaks volumes.] Frasier will try to shower with you. Do you need a towel or do you air dry?

[his brother. The person he was closest to on the island. Sam didn't have to know the archangel to know what he meant to Lucifer. After all, he'd lost Miles for the second time, and it had left an apartment just as empty.] I'm sorry. ...I wish they hadn't. [quiet, genuine. He can't offer anything more than that.

He heads for the bathroom, the soles of his feet sticky on the wood floor and leaving a trail.] I can air dry. I just need this shit off of me.

[As Lucifer predicted, Frasier bounds after him and hops in the stall.

Lucifer sits on the arm of the sofa and just listens to the white noise of the water.]

[at least until Sam shoves his curious muzzle kindly back out again. Sorry, boy - another time. No playing with the vampire innards as they collect at the drain.]

[Frasier sits outside the shower and barks, once every ten minutes. The angels never taught him manners per se, but they didn't tolerate yapping from any of the animals.]

[he takes his time in the shower (and not just because it takes some fucking time to scrub innards from your hair). He needs the break; it's a moment to breathe and reflect and reorient himself.

Eventually, finally, he pads back out as naked as when he went in (with a much more thorough pet to Frasier), shaking out his hair with his fingers. Turns out there was still a shifter under all that gore. Good to know.]

Gonna need to clean out your shower stall later. Drain was too small to let some of that stuff through. ...Thanks for lettin' me use it.

It's fine. I don't use it anyway. [But that gives him an idea. He looks up at Sam, and nods at the empty apartment.] Miles is gone. Do you really want to go back to an empty apartment every night?

[Sam sighs silently and lets his shoulders deflate, taking a seat on the couch.] Not even a little bit.

...Neither do I. [It actually hurts to admit it. Hurts his pride, hurts the part of him that's still trying to believe Michael will come home.]

[He nods. Maybe most people wouldn't expect the devil to ever feel lonely, but then most people haven't been privileged to share human, intimate moments with him either.

And loneliness is so very human.]

My place is more furnished, if they haven't gutted it yet.

Is there room for a dog and a hellhound?

[But as he asks it he pulls Sam closer, and Frasier hops up to lie across them. The decision is already made, really.]

Long as you don't mind a yappy Pomeranian. [man, Gizmo. He hopes someone's been taking care of her while he's been gone.

Sam accepts the pull without resistance, hot skin and damp hair leaning into the angel's throat. He breathes out a laugh when Frasier forces himself on them. Puppies have an amazing ability to make space for themselves wherever they are.]

Hope you don't mind too much that I need you.

[Lucifer's other hand comes up, so Sam is effectively ~~trapped~~ cradled against the Devil. He's resisted reaching out to anything that he and Michael shared (poor Frasier is so confused by the lack of attention), but Sam has always been Lucifer's exclusive friend.]

I don't think that's going to be a problem. [And then, more quietly, so Sam understands:] ...I thought you were gone for good, too.

I think I almost was, this time. [lowly, his eyes closed so there's only touch and scent and the soft words humming against his ear. Each trip back has been more dangerous. Too many close calls. Knelt before a grave by werewolves, shot by humans, offered as a meal in a nest of vampires. Events that left him running out of reasons to trust and were changing him, too. He knew that.

Here was something to hold onto. ...For both of them, maybe.

Sam lifted his chin, running his hand along Lucifer's back, familial and light.] But hey, it was only an "almost".

We like 'almost' here. [He rests his cheek against Sam's damp hair. He'll ask him where on earth he found that much blood, but later, when they've both had time to settle back into this world.]

And I won't let anything happen to you now that you're back.

True enough. Seems like everything is. [Sam rubs the furry head in his lap with his other hand, Frasier's blue-grey eyes upturned and watching them.]

I'll try and make breakfast in the mornin's, just to keep it fair. [biscuits and gravy for bodily protection will keep things even, after all.]

[Lucifer smiles weakly; he won't say no to that. Frasier will probably make it a hobby to try to steal from their plates.]

Are you going to go back to work?

[Sam considers that, and can't bring himself to do more than shrug.] Probably. Eventually. Yeah. Might go stir-crazy otherwise.

Ok. [Lucifer will just follow him there, as he usually did before. Routine isn't a comfort to an angel, but right now it's the only thing he can manage.]

What's it like to come back here? Do the memories just...crowd in?

...No. It's like... [his nose crinkles, and he sits up, leans back.] It's like movin' back into place. Like you switch out, when you leave. The memories just... aren't there anymore. Never even were, so you don't feel like you're missin' anything. Then when you come back, it clicks back into place. ...Sometimes there's this moment, when you're here, but you've still only got there in your head, but it doesn't last. And when it switches, it's normal. Like you've always had 'em both in your head.

[Sam sighs and rubs at his face] Let's go. I know you don't get tired, but I wouldn't mind lyin' down on a bed for a bit.

[So wherever Michael is, he doesn't even remember being happy.

He feels ill, and stands up as if to get away from it. Then he offers a hand to Sam.]

No, you're right. We should go. Keep hold of Frasier. We'll be there in a moment.

[he takes it gratefully, holding onto Frasier as he waits for the world to blur again. Until they're back in a dark bedroom he used to share with another man, and Frasier wriggles out of his grip to happily explore the new space with its new smells. Gizmo isn't there to greet them; in the morning, Sam will find a note on the door with details of where he can pick her up.

Sam allows himself a moment to reorient, then tries on a wry grin.] And to think, all those hours I wasted in cars when I could've just ridden the Devil Express.

Well, now you know. Besides, it's not really your first ride on me. [Which is a lame joke-innuendo-something or other, but he's pretty wrung out so he gets a break right? Right.]

Any house rules?

[all right, that gets a snort.] I'mma start earnin' miles.

[he stretches out and lays down on the bed, listening to Frasier's claws distantly clicking against the linoleum in the kitchen, no doubt getting into trouble.] No blood sacrifices in the house. No makin' portals to hell or cursin' the neighbors...

[Lucifer lays down beside him, and realizes in that split second that there's nowhere else on this island he wants to be. It makes him feel small, somehow, and very alone.

But he's used to acting contrary to what he's feeling most, so he smiles.]

Does that go for just the apartment?

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