Light-bearer, 1/3-4

[mangacat201]

Title: Light-bearer

Author: Mangacat(201)
Pairing/Characters: Sam, Dean, Lucifer
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2250

Disclaimer: Of course they belong to the Krip of all people… sheesh. And yeah, that money trail passes me by so thoroughly…

 

 

Warnings: SPOILER for season FOUR, post 4.22 Lucifer Rising.

Summary: And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell… and the first demon shall be the last seal. Lucifer himself however, has something to say about how the story begun… and where it goes to finish.

 

 

A/N: I start this because it’s been spooking around in my head since I watched the last seconds of Lucifer Rising. Knowing me I probably won’t finish it in time, so it’s going to be terribly AU, and I didn’t really want to do it… but then I did. Also, because I'm just that awesome, it will go and run for spn_pic_for_fic in the July challenge.

 
And if you'd rather LISTEN than read GO HERE: Light-Bearer pod-fic

 

 

~+~*~+~

 

“Sam, come on, let’s go!”

“Dean… he’s coming.”

 

~+~*~+~

 

And the Lord said: ‘Let there be light.’ And there was light.

 

~+~*~+~

 

Light had always surrounded him. He was never without his constant companion – it was after all the sole core of his existence and his purpose. From the very point of his beginning, his light had touched the chaos of the cosmos and felt its way through heat and dust and rock and atmosphere. It had frozen, illuminated, warmed, heated, melted and burnt to crisp. He had felt everything grow and shrink and get together at the Will of creation.

 

Then the path of his destiny had changed and for a long time, he had known nothing else but the light and the only thing it had touched – the boundaries of his plane where he dwelt alone, floating, waiting.

 

He didn’t feel how much time had passed, but he felt change. He felt the wards thin at a tiny little place to allow a voice through that he’d known and cherished. He whispered back the answer to the plea through mortal lips. A short time later, he perceived a resounding crash shaking the foundations of his plane. And then another and another. As they grew in number, so thinned the veil at the one place that had piqued his interest first. He longed for his familiar and friend to come back and speak to him again, but even more so, he longed to finally set his sight on his Father’s favourite creation – mankind -, even though they would not be fit to bear his. Fleeting impressions were bestowed upon him through the thinning walls and his curiosity made the waiting unbearable for the first time in his endless existence, but he soaked up anything of the mortal world he could grasp, every little tidbit. He knew, however, that the time was finally nigh and he vowed to have patience.

 

He had distracted himself with illusions of men so thoroughly, that he almost didn’t notice the wall break. He felt however, the beam of instant darkness that fled through the light to his very essence, the first of its kind that he had perceived for many aeons, for with the shadow of the mortal plane came physical awareness, the awakening of sense, perceptions of space and time. He new that his mere presence would rip the fragile net that held this small world together so he took an offering of blood, a small exhale of breath and the strength of a powerful mind to hold together a physical form fit to pass through the door.

 

When he stepped through the crumbled wall, he was suddenly assaulted with the sensation of a physical body. The whisper of air against skin, hot gusts followed by sudden cold drafts, tousling hair, the pulsing of blood through his veins, the loud tumble of a heartbeat in his ears, an acrid smell flaring his nostrils, the muted quality of the light that shrouded everything in shadows and colour, the cold press of solid stone under the naked soles of his feet. Everything stormed at him at once, one sensation drowning out the other and retreating again before the next. He dropped down on this haunches, arms wrapped around his knees – skin against skin causing warmth and friction and more feeling – dropped his head on them and clenched his eyes shut until the overwhelming rush of awareness faded. When the dizzying height of human perception had been sorted in this mind to a manageable degree, he endeavoured to open his eyes again and peek over the ridge of his knees to take in his surroundings. Mostly it was stone and wood, a dwelling of some sort, but his interest was held by the two living and breathing beings right in front of him. Two of Adams descendents, he determined, but he could only make out their frames, his young eyes dazzled with the concept of contrast and colour. He saw them in light, one emanating a sharp icy glow fractured by splintered cracks of oozing darkness; a broken soul impressed with the sigil of angelic force. The other one brightened the room with an overbearing shine of warm flickering hues, more a familiar to his own, a kindred spirit, but somehow bound and moulded by an invisible power. He knew without a doubt that his was the power that broken through the veil.

 

He blinked once and his eyes adjusted to the terrible gloom of this world and now he saw clearly their outside physical appearance. Both where looming over him like trees, incredulous expressions adorning their faces as they looked down, until the taller one folded suddenly and crashed to his knees in front of him, tears streaming from his eyes. The other one turned away slightly, crunching up his eyes and bringing his fist up to his mouth.

He muttered: “All this crap and they send a fucking toddler for heaven’s sake!”

The kneeling man however, locked eyes with him and implored:

“Who are you?”

He cogged his head sideways for a bit and tested his voice for the first time.

“I am Lucifer, the Morning Star, the Light-bearer. Did my Father send you? Is it time?”

These words caused the man in front of him to dissolve into tears once more, heavy sobs shaking his mighty shoulders and the sorry sight made him stretch out his hand in a gesture, what for though, he couldn’t fathom.

“This is the end then?”

The faint answer drifted through his musings and he frowned confused.

“The end of what? Where is my Father, why is he not here? He promised to be back. I stayed and waited and he told me he come and open the door, when it was time. You let me out, you must know his will.”

This time, instead of tears, he got a bout of choked laughter that puzzled him even more. Then the other man finally spoke up.

“Wait, wait, what? You went and got yourself locked up for aeons… at God’s request?”

“Of course, I do as he says. I don’t understand though…”

The kneeling man gazed at him with wide eyes and slowly extended hand towards him. He understood the intend and reached for his hand, his fingers half the size of the graceful long limbs.

“Sam, don’t!”

“Dean.” The man’s eyes never wavered from him, but the tone of his voice seemed to be enough, to hold the other one back. His hand engulfed his little palm fully and as their skin touched, a shiver ran through them both, but nothing else happened.

 

The tall man, Sam, held his hand a moment longer before letting go and sitting back on his haunches. Tension visibly drained from the other man, Dean’s, stance, though appeared still wired and posed to fight at a moments notice.

“You do as your Father says?” Sam asked.

“Yes.”

“Without question?”

“Of course, why would I do that?”

“And he ordered you to destroy the world?”

Now he found himself baffled, eyes widening.

“No, why would I do that? His Creation is his greatest joy and all of Heaven revels in it.”

He was taken aback when Dean snarked:

“Oh this is just great, the whole apocalypse is a sham and the powers of Heaven and Hell didn’t get the memo! Now the angels and demons put us up to this cosy little rende-vous all in vain. This is all such a huge fricking mess, it’s incredible. Well, news for you buddy, you’re supposed to annihilate the whole planet in a time when your precious father turned his back apparently on everyone, so be your evil little demon-self and do something already.”

A moment later, Sam rounded on the other man.

“Dean, don’t you GET it? He’s been in there on orders, and he’s out here still waiting for orders. He’s not a Fallen…he’s…”

Dean gaped, but closed his mouth in seconds flat, and then he seemed to mull it over until his expression turned even more incredulous.

“Sonofa…”

 

Sam turned around to face the other man with a grave expression.

“Dean, we can’t just leave him here.”

He could see the other man grit his teeth and his eyes took on a hard glint.

“What, Sam, you want to go on a road trip with the fricking Antichrist? Are you insane? No way, just, no!”

Sam just looked at Dean for a moment. The other man held up his finger and closed his eyes.

“Just… if we do this, it’s going to get us killed. Again. And I get to say I told you so. And we’re not through with this, you hear me? We’re not... good, alright?”

Sam turned his head away and nodded sharply. Something unspoken seemed to pass between them and then Dean relaxed a fraction and nodded.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

 

He had tried to follow the two men in their conversation, but their words hadn’t made a lick of sense to him for quite some time. There was only one way to clear this up.

“I need to see my Father and seek revelation.”

“Damn straight, I second that, thank you very much. I’d have a few revelations for the guy myself.”

Sam nodded grimly.

“But first we have to get out of here. I’m surprised that we haven’t got the finest of Heaven and Hell raining down on our heads already.”

He found it prudent to supply the reason, as he surprisingly trusted these men to help him on his quest.

“I chose not to reveal my presence. No one will know me and my whereabouts, but for my own will.”

“Well, what a nifty little feature. Either way, they know the location so we better not be here once they come looking anyway. But first we gotta…”

Dean shed his jacket and draped it around his shoulders. The worn leather felt warm and supple on his skin and smelt curious. He grabbed the lapels and drew it nearer to his body, suddenly conscious and surprised at the warmth and comfort it provided. Sam reached out and hoisted him up in his arms before he stood. The men shared a wary glance that spoke loudly and said very little, then they made their exit.

 

When they stepped out of the building towards a sleek yellow car he felt Sam flinch and dug his hand into the tall man’s shirt, not really clear on what compelled him to do so. The reactions of a physical body were still new and foreign to him. Sam’s arms tightened a bit around his small frame and he carefully slipped into the passenger seat while Dean held the door open. Then he watched as the man walked around the hood to the other side and got in behind the wheel to fiddle with something under the dashboard until the motor roared to life. Dean shifted the gear and let loose to swerve down the empty road with screeching tires. There seemed to be no question as to where they were going. He noticed how the man kept his eyes firmly on the road and the little pinpricks of light that emanated from the headlights and Sam, who stared with unseeing eyes out of the side window where the world rushed by at a dizzying pace. He closed his eyes and soaked up the warmth that seeped through the coarse fabric of Sam’s shirt and felt the steady pulse of the heart beating where his hand was bunched in the cloth. When he laid his head against the solid chest, he could even hear the blood rushing under the skin, the never-ceasing thud of the heart and the slight hitch in Sam’s breath that smoothed out after a couple of seconds to a calm and deep rhythm. He suddenly felt a hand ruffling his hair and almost started at the unfamiliar and unanticipated touch, but it felt… good, so he let it slide. Instead, he burrowed deeper into the warm cocoon of soft leather and drifted off to sleep for the first time.

 

~*~


Second part