Author's Note: Hello, one and all. Now, first off, getting this bit out of the way. I don't own Supernatural. Or Sam Winchester. Or Lucifer. I do own a bible, however, and am a fan of Eric Kripke's show, from which these characters spring from. I also do not own High schools, though I am a student in one, which is something, I suppose. This is my first Supernatural AU, so if you have an constructive feedback, positive or negative, I would love it hear it. I'm not easily upset, so please don't try to sugar coat, just make certain it's constructive, not something like 'Your mom. Now go die in a ditch.' As this is the first of its kind for me, I really do need the feedback. Right. So, I hope you enjoy.
Sam Winchester was rather busy trying to figure out exactly how his relationship with Lucifer had become a bit off. He had lived next to the younger boy for as long as he could remember, and as far as he could tell, their relationship had been pretty typical when they were younger, though he admitted his memory held a few disconcerting gaps in it. Lucifer had always been what you might call clingy, surely, but he really wasn’t one for connecting to people, so Sam had never thought it would be an issue. But now, he had definitely crossed the line.
“What the heck-” Sam had woken up this morning with four pale, and somewhat scrawny limps wrapped around him. Lucifer tightened his grip when he heard Sam speak, and nuzzled his head into the small of his back.
“Mornin’, Sammy.” Sam tried to wiggle his way out of the grasp, unsuccessfully.
“Morning? Morning? Is that the only thing you have to say? You’re in my room. In my bed. I didn’t agree to this. Get off me, Lucifer.” Lucifer simply sighed, and blinking his hazy amber eyes regretfully, let go of the taller one, allowing him to sit up.
“You left your window open last night. Sammy. And I had a nightmare. I was scared.” He gave the other his widest eyes, but Sam, who had been trying to edge off the bed, didn’t look at him, frustrated by the white arm that had wrapped around him again.
“No. It was. Dean went around last night. Checked all the windows were locked. And I’m sorry, but you seem to have nightmares every night, and I don’t see how sleeping with me will help you fix them. Maybe you should talk to your parents?” Sam sighed, and gently tried to pull Lucifer’s arm off him. He did feel sorry for the little guy. “I asked you to get off me.” He tried again, but the younger one had a surprisingly strong grip. He let his arms drop, realizing he would have to talk the other out of this.
“Look. You can’t keep doing this, okay?” He attempted to turn, to face Lucifer, but it was a no go. Lucifer, sensing that Sam’s anger was waning, took the opportunity to wrap his other arm around him again.
“But why not, Sammy? I get so lonely without you.” Sam growled, and pulled away, managing to break free.
“Talk to Lilith. Go sleep with your mom. Or do, something, heck, anything. Just, don’t do this, okay? You can’t keep breaking into my room. It’s not good, not good at all.” Sam snapped his head around, to glare at Lucifer, and when he caught sight of the face he has making, he felt his heart sink slightly.
“Look buddy. It’s nothing personal. You’re my friend. You know that, right?” He bent down, kneeling so he was at Lucifer’s eye level. Until recently, Sam and Lucifer, who were only two years apart, had been almost the same height. When Sam had hit thirteen, and shot up, leaving Lucifer behind. They were both fairly weedy children with big ideas, so both of them had developed their own method of talking down bullies. Not that Dean and Lilith didn’t attack anybody who pushed them around. Sam remembered that, and smiling slightly at the other, ruffled Lucifer’s tawny curls.
“You’re almost a teenager now. You can’t keep doing this. It’s just not cool.” Lucifer nodded, grinning at Sam as he leapt up. He knew he had won this one.
“Okay, Sammy. I’ll go home now, then. It’s probably time for breakfast, anyway. See you on the bus?” Sam nodded, silently thanking what merciful being must exist on high, and pointed Lucifer towards the window.
“Oh, and Lucifer?” The other turn around, his eyes bright, smiling.
“Yes, Sammy?”
“Give me my shirt back, please. That’s my favourite one, and it wouldn’t even fit you. It’s way too big.” Reluctantly, the other slipped it off and gave it back, somehow managing to lock the window on his way out.
