Title: High-low Split
Author: scy
Feedback: scynneh@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Not mine
Fandom: Supernatural/Lucifer
Pairing: None, gen
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through much of 'Children and Monsters,' and Supernatural, season 3 'Sin City.'
Summary: When attracting attention, solutions may present themselves.
Author's Notes: Written for Barb, as a continuation of previous stories set somewhere in her 'Turn of the Wheel' series. In poker, a high-low split game is one where the pot is divided between the player with the best hand (aka the high hand) and the player with the low hand.
January 2008

Dean always remembered his dreams, even if they were only worth telling Sam so he'd would be grossed out. There were some that Dean kept to himself; things he'd seen in the time between Sam leaving and coming back that his brother didn't need to know about. And there were some repeats; the fire cat in Kentucky that somebody had tried to tame, the twins in New Hampshire that had matching dimples and headstones, and the piano bar in Los Angeles that was never closed if one knew the way inside.

He'd been back to Lux a few times when he was awake too, without the excuse of sleep and it wouldn't have been a big deal that it featured in his dreams, except for how whatever happened there carried over to his infrequent visits to Los Angeles.

The routine was the same each time he stopped in. When he got through the door, he went to a table with a clear line of sight to both the bar and piano and had a whiskey. The waitress, a blonde girl with short hair and her own story that Dean already knew, gave him a menu and told him that the show wouldn't start for a quarter of an hour and that she would look after him while he waited.

Dean smiled. He said that he already knew the owner, though he didn't add that his insider information included being aware of who Lux really was underneath his nice suit and why it was that he was able to manipulate people with such slick ease.

But Dean could appreciate a show; watching people was a hobby, and the ones that got fleeced here were all sunk too deeply in their own lives not to realize they could get out if they just worked at it. Even if they didn't get taken, most didn't leave unchanged. While they were still people that didn't want to be told there was anything else but but a predictable schedule they could follow until they retired, they didn't realize that the guy they were counting on to take their problems away for a while was actually capable of causing a lot more than they would be able to cope with, and by the end of the evening, something had shifted in each one of them.

The owner of Lux had a lot of names, but only a couple could catch any attention, and whatever he was called, the guy knew what was going on with Dean and Sam. He knew and hadn't tried to pull them into any bargains, but his restraint didn't make any of the other parties back down much. It was a bad idea to make deals with citizens of any underworld, but it was even dumber to think about just calling one of them up and not have some real safeguards lined up. That's the way Sam would put it, even with all the books he was sitting on, the ones that bled darkness when they were opened. Sam said he was all right, he was getting an idea of what had been happening to them, but Dean wasn't so thick that he couldn't see what his brother wasn't handling in spades.

No, Sam wasn't in control of the piece of whatever he'd gotten when the elemental hit them that last time. Adding that to the special way he had with throwing around his feelings, and anything not tied down, Dean was having to duck more often than he liked, and that was a struggle when his wings were in the picture.

But Sam couldn't admit that if none of the experts they'd looked up could make the connection between Sam's temper and how his part of the wind worked, then there needed to be a change in how they went about investigating this cycle. They had to know what it was going to leave them with if, when, it finally ran its course.

He'd thought about it; Sam did okay for most of the time leading up to the next shift, but then a couple days beforehand he started getting twitchy, like he was suddenly aware of something he was missing, and didn't know how to wait for it properly. Just like when they were little and Sam had been unbearable with all of the questions he wouldn't let go of in spite of everything Dean said. So, Dean knew he had to do what had a possibility of doing them some good, and didn't bring it up to Sam, arguing it out would waste time and Sam admitted they needed advice about how to cope, but he was pickier about who they asked. Dean didn't have those hang-ups, if he could get help, he would, and then deal with the consequences later.

The number was written in the back of what would be Dad's book to Dean no matter who owned it. They had appeared after the last time they met, had been seared into the leather like the pen that wrote them was dipped in fire but didn't burn itself out as it was used.

How appropriate, Sam said when he caught sight of the digits and watched Dean tip the book to and fro, getting a better look at them. Sam rolled his eyes and added don't think there's anything else there.

But Dean had been wondering who the message was for and stared at them a little longer as he tried to figure out their meaning.

He sat on the trunk of the Impala and chewed his lower lip while Sam headed off to commune with nature or did research. When Dean was sure that his brother had left, he dialed. The phone rang six times and then it was picked up in Los Angeles.

"Lux," a woman's voice said. At least, there was a feminine note to the growl of sound in Dean's ear.

"Is he there?" Dean asked.

"Who is calling?" Again, stones broke off a cliff and fell into his ear as she spoke.

"Dean." He wasn't going to give all of his name to anyone unless it was necessary, and even if the voice belonged to a woman, Dean was put off by the way it rolled like a landslide tumbling over itself.

"I need to speak to the owner," Dean said. "He said he might help me out if I needed it."

"Very well, I shall put him on," the woman cleared her throat and called out something that Dean couldn't understand. No earthly language sounded like that, and he knew it wasn't heavenly, so that left one region as its origin.

"Yes," said a second voice, and this one Dean recognized, more than easy on the ears, it held promises and threats in the same beat and he swore he could feel the phone heating up next to his ear.

"Lux, hey, this is Dean Winchester." He didn't know for sure how secure the line was and so left identity up to the listener.

"The oldest brother calls me before the next solstice, I gather social graces are not in included in your list of needs," Lucifer said.

"When we talked last, you said that you could give us some advice about what's been happening to us, and if things got bad than they were, you'd help," Dean said. He had to make it clear that he wasn't just calling up the Prince of Hell for a chat. There were boundaries to this exchange of information and he wanted that established right away.

"I gather that your troubles haven't resolved themselves I take it," Lucifer said. He listened to Dean breathe and as he was gearing up to say something more, the real reason he had called, Lucifer went on.

"Your brother is not handling these changes. He worsens the closer to the beginning of the cycle it gets, and when it arrives, he's unsteady, even unpredictable in his reactions."

"Yeah, that's about right," Dean said.

"He hasn't reconciled the changes with what is already part of him," Lucifer said,

"What do you mean?"

"Even before you Winchesters became embroiled in this elemental fracas, Samuel was not like other men. He was touched years ago by something neither mortal nor unbiased in its politics," Lucifer said.

"Elementals stick to their own kind," Dean said. "It's not like they don't take sides."

"They have accepted the need for the negotiation of limits, and if someone has an inherent tendency toward one side or another, that element's manifestations will claim the being and request that they enter the battle on their behalf."

"But we're not like that," Dean said.

"You fight your own battles," Lucifer said. "And if there is no conflict at hand, you incite one."

"Well, it's not good to lay around and do nothing," Dean said.

"Sloth has long been considered a sin, but it is the excess of inaction that is most dangerous," Lucifer said.

"Funny, hearing the devil tell me about good behavior," Dean said.

"I know virtue, its uses are simply not wide enough for it to be more widely employed."

"How does any of that wisdom help us?" Dean asked.

"It doesn't, not directly, but it's worth keeping in mind," Lux said.

"All right, thanks a lot," Dean said, then hung up, stared at his phone for a second and shook his head. He couldn't say that he hadn't known he would get a lot of freaky talk that sort of made sense but that he couldn't completely figure out, so he'd just have to see what happened.

"Dean? I got the burgers, you ready to go?" Sam asked, coming out of the restaurant holding a large sack and drinking out of a plastic cup that probably held more caffeine than he needed after the two cups this morning, but Dean didn't call him on it. They'd both glanced at the date that morning and not discussed it.

Taking his own drink, Dean took a long sip. "Yeah, let's get moving, daylight's wasting."

Hunting didn't have slow months that could be marked on a calendar, and so every hunter had to learn strategies for pacing themselves and staying warm. Predictably, the most pressing cases weren't usually anywhere close to the sun, and even if they had been, Sam and Dean went where they were needed, not where it was warmest.

There was snow on the ground, and they'd passed a sanding machine that was clearing hte roads as they came into town. Gravel spun up under the car and clanged against the undercarriage as they went by the sign welcoming them into town.

Dean shivered as he turned his collar up to cover his neck. Rethinking that strategy might be a good idea during winter months. The wind slid around leather and nipped painfully at his ears and even that extra layer was only just keeping him moving. It wasn't easy without the other factors, like the gathering slate-dark clouds and the fine mist that coated everything. There were places where November was pleasant, even pretty, but the coast, just before a squall, was not one of them.

Because of that, Dean insisted that if they wanted to hang around while Sam got the research together, they'd be doing it from a good hotel with a hot tub, while Dean went out and spent his time productively.

Hustling pool is not productive, Dean.

It is when I do it, Sam.

He'd decided to go with pool; it was easier to get a game going and control the flow when he was moving around the table.

The men in the bar were that mix of working class and college kids of which at least a couple guys thought that they could take anyone on.

Dean headed to the bar, got a beer, downed half of it, and sat back to watch the action.

When the players realized they had an audience, one of them began announcing his moves and trying to impress Dean.

"You think you can do better?" the guy asked, glaring at Dean from underneath the brim of his chewed up baseball cap. He was wearing a denim jacket that had been aged in a factory, and plainly wanted to look like he belonged, but was too clean to really fit in.

"I know a few things," Dean said, took another sip and picked up a cue.

From the steps in front of the bar, Dean couldn't recognize the figure lounging by his car, but anybody who got close to the Impala without asking automatically put Dean's hackles up.

The man had been examining the car with his eyes with such intense focus that Dean wondered whether he was looking for truth in the lines of metal.

As he approached, Dean felt a surge of heat and he paused, noticing that the man was wearing the kind of heavy black coat that people who did shady but lucrative business deals favored, and this blonde guy was way too high end for this kind of town. He didn't belong, and not just in this setting, but in general. Way back when, he'd been made for things greater than this. Dean made a reasonable guess and cleared his throat.

"It's not that far from L.A. if you've got wings."

The man turned his head as Dean stepped up to his side, not startled, an acknowledgment that could have been a greeting too. There was nothing in his attitude that declared his intent, but Dean went where instinct led him, and nodded back.

"I could have flown, but why waste the effort when this is more expedient," Lucifer said in response to Dean's look.

Dean had heard about beings that could do what Lucifer just had, but had never seen it up close. He'd been told that there were spots where the world was stretched thinner than saran wrap, and if a man wasn't careful, they would step through to someplace else. Then there were times when a person saw an outstretched hand and took it without thinking about what exactly, was reaching out from that other place. Not everything that looked for more than what they'd been given was evil, but sometimes, in the end, it didn't matter anyway. Anything powerful enough to know what to do with a doorway would use it as they liked.

"And," Lucifer continued, "the attention that has been given to sightings of winged men is rather unprecedented."

"Yeah, I know," Dean said and rubbed the back of his neck, keeping his hand away from his throat by an act of will and the denial that a scar would suddenly appear where there hadn't been one since the end of the Sabbat. He shivered uncontrollably just once and as he struggled to hunch further into his coat, Lucifer pulled out a flask and offered it silently.

"Thanks, but I was taught to never accept drinks from strangers and monsters," Dean said.

"It's not poisoned or cursed," Lucifer said. "Actually, this is a very subtle cognac."

"I prefer whiskey," Dean said and took his own flask and unscrewed the cap. He took a swig and grimaced as it went down.

"You would," Lucifer said and sipped more delicately "The lack of culture and appreciation for such things is appalling."

"You hauled ass all the way out here, in this weather, to bitch at me because I don't know enough about liquor?" Dean asked. "Since I can drink just about anything under the table and still come up swinging, that's a waste of time."

"You've never matched an angel drink for drink," Lucifer said. "The experience is cleansing."

"I bet," Dean said. "So, what made you decide to check up on us? You that bored, or are we the top news item lately?"

"The rumblings over you boys have been spreading steadily, inevitably, there's talk among demons and the like."

"They spill everything they know to you?" Dean asked.

"It's rather common," Lucifer said.

"I bet it is," Dean said. People, and demons liked having more information than anyone else and if they thought it would get a reaction, they would share it. In a place like Lux, with all its atmosphere and a piano player who played and listened to what they were saying, and some of them likely didn't even mean to be so chatty, it just happened, and they didn't see the harm in any of it.

"What with the rumors of angels rising on earth, and the rather uncharacteristic phone call, I concluded that your troubling situation had put you in a rather poor frame of mind," Lucifer said.

"Situation?" That didn't even touch on Dean having been tied down and his blood being spilled to bring back the dead. Even though whatever had seen him exposed like that hadn't come after them yet, Dean hadn't let down his guard.

"The circle is about to come around on itself this Samhain," Lucifer said.

"Yeah, I know, we've marked our calendars, it's gonna be a big night," Dean said.

"Undoubtedly, and even more so if you don't prepare adequately."

"How?" Dean asked.

"Have you even figured out what you're letting out every time this happens?" Lucifer asked.

"Sort of, I've got a few ideas," Dean said, not wanting to give what he thought and guessed away, not to the devil, helpful or not.

"They're more than wings," Lucifer said. "A bird doesn't spread their soul when they take flight, and you've noticed the effect they have on those who know you." His eyes were more knowing than Dean was comfortable with, and he flushed, glancing away.

"Why doesn't everyone have the same problem?" Not that Dean wanted random strangers to brush up against him and get a jolt the way Sam had been craving and Bobby had gotten by accident, but he wanted to know.

"Is it like this for angels?" Dean asked. Maybe they all hung out and preened each other's feathers when they weren't watching humans mess up and hurt their own kind. If it felt the same, that might explain why they weren't interested in fixing more of the world's troubles.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow at Dean. "Your meaning being, do God's seraphs prefer pleasure to the glory of doing His work?"

Yeah, it sounded sort of dumb when Lucifer said it, but Dean had asked.

"Not one among them would admit that duty can seem tedious in the course of eternity," Lucifer said.

"Except you," Dean said.

"I am not counted as one of Yahweh's loyal subjects," Lucifer said. "And my proclivities are held up as evidence of foulness and corruption."

"So I wouldn't fit in either," Dean said.

Lucifer shook his head. "Not unless your attitude changed. Unquestioning obedience and the exclusion of personal gratification are essential, and your free will would not stand for such limitations."

"And I'm not leaving Sam in the lurch," Dean said, just to hear it in the air between them. Lucifer knew that as fact, but if any elementals or any demons were hanging around, it didn't hurt anything to repeat himself for their benefit. With that said, he got down to the real point of the conversation. "We need to know what's going on; a couple of those things, fire and earth tried to get us to fight for them in a war that they've got going, and when I adjured, they were ready to let us die and tried to help us along."

"Their concept of loyalty is straightforward," Lucifer said.

"Where does that leave us?" Dean asked.

"In the middle, for so long as you balk at educating yourselves sufficiently and declaring some ground as your own. Or you could attempt to bow out."

"How would I do that?" Dean asked.

"Remove the wings and your brother's connection to the air," Lucifer said.

His shoulders tightened and Dean could make himself think about that in terms actually carrying through. "That would be a lot of work."

"Less work than agony to carry out," Lucifer said, and he was telling Dean that he knew from enduring it himself.

"I know that the wings aren't really like normal ones, but I can't imagine cutting them off," Dean said.

"It can be tolerated," Lucifer said.

Cutting a bullet out was one thing, but even just imagining putting a knife to a part of himself on purpose made Dean swallow hard, sickened by the thought.

"Why?" Dean meant why would anyone want to do that to themselves.

"It was the way to be free of an obligation forced upon me," Lucifer said.

"That being?" Dean asked.

"Hell and the keeping of the damned," Lucifer said.

"But you got your wings back," Dean said, remembering them taking flight together, Sam hanging onto Dean, the terror and exhilaration that made the experience unforgettable.

"Yes, I retrieved them," Lucifer said.

"Did you miss them while they were gone?" Dean stared at his boots, then at Lucifer's feet. The devil was wearing stomping boots with his nice clothes. That gave Dean some satisfaction; even the supposed Prince of Lies was honest about his willingness come down hard on his enemies if need be.

He didn't trust Lucifer, but with all the things that had tried to kill them, at this point fire was the only element that had helped and not struck back at them when they didn't accept the offer to be soldiers in another war. Somehow that mattered to Dean and he wondered why, and thought that the Lightbringer might be an influence of some kind.

"These disputes aren't settled with conclusive gestures," Lucifer said.

"Then what good is it to-" Dean didn't finish his sentence, even for him, insulting the devil without good reason wasn't a great idea.

"Have me around?"

"Yeah, I didn't mean it to sound so harsh," Dean said and felt himself wanting to vent even a little when he knew it wouldn't offend anybody.

Dean waved his arms in frustration and as he spoke, his voice rose. "We're just doing our jobs and getting slammed every Sabbat. There hasn't been a way to get out in front of these things." Dean shook his head. "They've taken both of us down, and even when we get out of it, we're still in their sights."

"Understandably, you're both touched, and you persist in refusing them, that makes Winchester a name which attracts a greater number of beings," Lucifer said. "Not all of them will take a negative answer with the same grace."

"What grace? They've tried to drown, and blow us away, literally." If this continued, despite the fact that fire hadn't come up against them as hard as it could, Dean had his concerns about what might be next. If he was setting some spook's bones alight or torching an abandoned house, then he knew what the burning meant. The elementals that took that form, the demonic flames, those were unknowns that he didn't like at all.

"What can we do?" Dean asked.

"There are bargains, and those that would take desperation as currency over blood," Lucifer said.

"Demons."

"And gods," Lucifer said as if he had them waiting on his word.

Maybe he did, and Dean ventured, "You know any who would get off on this mess?"

"Several."

"If they get in on this, we're in deep, aren't we?" Dean asked.

"Yes." Lucifer didn't look any more or less amused. He was giving Dean facts, and they wouldn't have the same weight if he didn't let reality hit as hard as it needed to.

"Look, I don't want you to step in and take over, but a little look couldn't hurt, and if these things realize what they're drawing in, some of them might back down."

"There have been instances where my presence has been considered intimidating," Lucifer said.

"Can't imagine why," Dean said. "You're positively congenial."

"It depends on one's perspective."

"A lot of stuff does."

In Dean's estimation, the elementals weren't the villains of the past year just because they'd gotten mixed up with him and Sam. That they'd collided once and then stood back, gotten up their nerve and tried a second time made them adversaries. They had their battles, and apparently a human that survived one meeting was changed, Dean understood all all of that, but even so, humans still weren't truly welcome inside the clubhouse.

"You're between powers," Lucifer said. "Much as you've been your entire lives, not settling or stopping long enough for there to be a loss when you leave again, but did you ever consider that in being nomads, you've made other claims?"

Dean shook his head. "Anything looking for us will find us, it happens eventually." He glanced at his watch. "Sam's gonna be back soon, unless he really had to do that review of the entire town's history and got lost along the way."

"Did you want to retrieve him and be on our way?" Lucifer asked.

"Where are we going?"

"This close to an Esbat, you might contemplate making your stance clear, and capitalize on what you have. There are other reasons to be attracted to you Winchesters," Lucifer said.

"Our stunning good looks?" Dean asked.

"More how you look to one another." Lucifer didn't wink or give Dean a suggestive nudge, but Dean's neck got warm just the same.

"What do you mean by that?" Dean blustered.

"Please, don't presume that distance is a barrier to knowledge," Lucifer said.

"Well right now, proximity isn't doing much for me," Dean said.

"Then you aren't being observant," said Lucifer dismissively.

"So, with this much personal attention aimed at me, I should feel special. You don't do this for everyone, I bet."

"It's rare that I attend to inconsequential details," Lucifer said.

"Meaning I'm someone of consequence," Dean said and grinned.

"Apparently," Lucifer said and smiled back in that sharp way of his.

Dean heard a brotherly throat clearing and looked around to see Sam standing far enough away that he could draw a gun and take a shot if Dean was in trouble. But from Sam's expression, it was clear that he'd heard enough to conclude that Dean was causing plenty to worry about.

"Sam, you remember Lux," Dean said, and got an unfriendly look.

"I know who he is, and how dare you tell me that I should be careful who I talk to."

"You're younger, you don't know any better," Dean said and smirked. "We don't need to have this discussion right now," Sam said. "Not with the Prince of Darkness sharing a drink with you."

"I offered," Lucifer said. "Dean evidently prefers more uncivilized past-times."

Dean coughed, it was a bit funny and partly true, but he didn't laugh because Sam was staring at them both with wide eyes.

"Go away," Sam pleaded. "Do, whatever it is you're planning, and don't share."

"Really, Sam." Dean chided, grinning in a way that Sam knew meant he was going to be hearing more than he wanted to. "Are you uncomfortable with this? Should we have a talk?"

"We'll discuss boundaries later," Sam said, and spun around so that Dean had to step back if he wanted to stand beside Lucifer, which he did, and Sam wasn't sure he could believe.

"No, we have to set lines down now," Dean said, staring at Sam.

Dean knew there was nothing that counted universally as sanctuary, but if there weren't hard and fast rules of engagement, neutral ground was at least given a respectful nod. So he kept a running list of such places, updated it whenever one side failed to keep the lines clear, and sometimes stopped in for a drink or to listen to the stories of people who didn't know who he was and never even considered what he took for granted. That Lux counted as one of those hadn't dawned on him until now.

"They were trying to bring someone back from the dead, using my blood. I guess they thought no reaper could resist an offering like that."

"Death is not to bribed with blood," Lucifer said. "No matter how potent the sacrifice may be. She would not have surrendered a soul that had already been already claimed. The thing that might have tried would have found the attempt unwise."

"Is that the same for you, with all the wannabe Satanists and kids who think darkness is cool?" Dean asked.

"If I responded to every voice that asked the devil to take their troubles and consume them with fire, there would be a direct line that people could call with such requests," Lucifer said dryly.

"The roaming charges would be steep," Dean said.

"I am not, as some believe, devoted to tending the shadows within men. But there are demons whose only diversion is bargaining for a larger clutch of souls, so that they can gain prestige in Hell's ranks."

Sam had stopped and reluctantly turned to listen and now he spoke up. "As far as we can tell, elementals are a completely different creature."

"When the earth was formed and long before life rose up, there were such forces at work, the ones that spring out of creation and whose function it is to eternally balance each others."

"But angels were first," Dean said.

"Yahweh needed hands to do his work, and to that end he gave the choirs of angels form and purpose. The first two of us nursed this world through its beginnings and have watched the eons shape its inhabitants."

"Would they listen to you?"

"The troublesome elementals?"

"Yeah."

"Some may back down, but these are aspects of this planet, and they have holds beyond what they control overtly. They have long been acceded to."

"Why are they so fixated on him?" Sam asked. "No smartass remarks," he warned, pointing at Dean.

"You've touched what he lets loose, how could anything who didn't know what that was, and who'd never had it for their own, not want to possess it?" Lucifer asked.

"But not you?" Sam asked.

"I've had wings and a soul for longer than this world will see again, and I don't steal what isn't useful to me." Lucifer smiled. "Free will is, after all, much more compelling."

"Say we want to exercise some of that, I'm sure you've got a suggestion," Sam said.

"On an Esbat, even a simple routine may provoke a magical working," Lucifer said. "For the pair of you, ritual would bring down more than you'd care to handle without preparation or independent counsel."

"We can handle a lot," Dean said.

"On this day, a sacrifice was performed to appease Azazel, the fallen angel that seduced mankind," Lucifer said. "Attracting his followers would not be prudent."

"I've met one or two," Dean said. "One of the demons was pretty excited about somebody else, though, the Lightbringer. Apparently you're supposed to be their savior."

Lucifer laughed contemptuously, and his view of such things didn't have to be expanded on.

"You mentioned a sacrifice," Sam said. "You think that Dean would be in danger, from the demons too?"

"What better than an angel, or a man who walks as one?" Lucifer asked.

"Dean," Sam said sharply.

"Yeah, I get it," Dean said, and remembered what he wouldn't talk about.

Sam hovered beside his brother, wanting to put a hand out to steady him, but what Dean admitted to or would accept for that discomfiting memory was little, and Sam had been getting into Dean's space without paying a toll of permission ever since they left Bobby's. In front of a fallen angel, Sam knew that there were rules they hadn't even considered hashing out, and so he was waiting on Dean's cues.

"So, this is a good day to do an elemental 'keep away' spell, but a bad day for mooning the demons," Dean said. "That about right?"

"Yes."

"But you think we need to deter the elementals somehow, and the sooner the better," Sam said.

"Better than waiting on their mercurial temperament," Lucifer said.

"And you can keep the demons off us in the meantime," Dean said, thinking something through, and Sam could tell that he wouldn't like it.

No way, Sam telegraphed to Dean with his eyes, and his brother shrugged. What else have we got?

"Will this be a permanent fix?" Sam asked, letting Dean have the point so he wouldn't make it anyway and maybe bring things up that Sam thought Lucifer would catch onto.

"The universe has few hard and fast certainties," Lucifer said. "Making yourselves invulnerable isn't the objective, but ensuring that you cannot be approached by such things without you being warned is achievable."

"Tempting anything to come after us, at any time of the year is really stupid," Sam said.

"Maybe, or we might get a better idea of where they're coming from," Dean said. "Could find one, get it talking about something useful."

C'mon, Sam, Dean didn't say. Don't you want to figure this out?

"How sure are you that having him around," Sam lifted his shoulder in Lucifer's direction, "won't cause more trouble?"

"Can't say that having the devil along won't clear the way," Dean said and grinned.

"You're just hoping you find something you can kick around a few times," Sam accused. "That won't be taken well."

"Look how we've dealt with everything they keep tossing in our way," Dean said. "It's our turn."

"Is he encouraging this?" Sam heard the edge of desperation in his voice but he couldn't tamp it down completely.

"We came up with it together," Dean said.

"When?" Sam asked.

"Well, there aren't really any monsters in this town," Dean said. "I checked when I was working."

"Fleecing the locals is not work," Sam said and punched Dean in the arm. "You made up a job?"

"No, it turned out that there wasn't one and I decided to deal with our problem." Dean reached out and swatted Sam, annoyed but firm in his decision.

"Yeah, you did," Sam said and gave in. "How do we do this without putting ourselves in a corner?"

"As you have already spent the Sabbat in a state of flux, very little is needed to stir up sufficient energy for a ritual working," Lucifer said. " I would say that this magic should be conducted outside the city."

"To keep people from getting hurt," Sam agreed.

"Some effects will be felt even if the area is shielded," Lucifer said.

"Well, then shield the circle and we'll be careful," Dean said.

"Where should be go?" Sam asked.

"A mile past hte town limits is ample distance to prevent most casualties," Lucifer said nad there was a snapping of something displacing air suddenly.

Lucifer spread his wings and lifted off. "I will be waiting."

In the car, they could follow him, and minutes later Dean pulled hte car off the road next to a small clearing.

The devil had walked a circle already; the outline of crushed grass barely distinguishable until the clouds drew away from the moon.

"Any manner of lunar protection ritual will suffice, choose your particular favorite," Lucifer said.

Sam raised his voice as he began speaking. He thanked the moon for its interest in them and asked for protection and containment of the circle they had made.

There was no thunderclap, but the air was charged with static, and Dean had straightened up abruptly. His eyes were wide and Sam could see the shine of awareness when their gazes met.

"You felt it too," Sam said, so it couldn't be denied.

"Make the call, Sam," Dean said and rolled his shoulders back unconsciously, the way he did before his wings manifested.

"Which one do you think?" Sam asked. "Elemental or demon?" The rush of energy as well as seeing Dean so close to spreading his wings had, Sam admitted, made him a bit reckless like he'd just run a sprint in record-breaking time.

"See who answers," Lucifer said. "Their identity should prove illuminating."

"All right," Sam said and began the summoning incantation.

In the center of the circle, a plume of fire erupted like a geyser, out of thin air.

"What the hell?" Dean asked, staring at the outline of a form within the flames. It was nothing like any of the elementals they had dealt with, it was too well-defined, and yet not as intimidating as Sam imagined a true demon would be.

"An intermediary," Lucifer said from directly behind Sam, startling him.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"That is not truly a demon or an elmental, in truth, what you see is a half-breed that has survived by existing between the two camps and running errands." Lucifer smiled. "There have been such things many times before and only some of them learned the lessons of the Lilim."

"What happened to them?" Dean asked.

"They were the children of Lilith and therefore can never enter paradise's gardens," Lucifer said.

"And they get used for this?" Sam asked.

"No, they carry grudges and are proud of their mixed blood," Lucifer said.

"Some of them are looking at you to lead them," Dean said with certainty.

Sam couldn't tell if he didn't approve or he was trying to keep Lucifer talking to hear the sound of his voice.

"There are those who see my patronage as a welcome alternative to Heaven and Hell," Lucifer said. "Many though believe me to be a traitor who knows nothing of loyalty."

"What about this one?" Sam asked, and the action inside the circle answered him.

The flames billowed and gusted, buffeted by the wind that had sprung out of a still day, but as they tried to get closer, Lucifer put a hand up and stopped them.

"That's far enough, bringing yourselves against me like this is aggression, and any more will be outright war. Consider your position before you proceed."

"We have business with the sons of Eve," the shape said in hissing tones.

"Do you contest the claim of Yahweh?" Lucifer asked. "The Host was commanded to take special consideration with these beings."

"You are not one of Providence's chosen." It shifted and seemed to be examining the boundaries of the circle.

"I am Lucifer, and my business does not end at any gate."

"That does not give you leave to interfere," the half-breed said, but was still as it watched Lucifer.

"Never tell me that," Lucifer said. "Any mortal altered by the gods or elementals gains a certain status, and even were these two not as a pair, intriguing, others would insist on investigating their limits."

The thing wriggled like it was caught on a hook and knew that it had to get free or be gutted. "Angels cannot take the field without the Word," it said, and laughed, crackling and spitting tendrils of fire."

"But I am not the Host's champion," Lucifer said. "I act as I please, and while the choirs may only strike when permission is given, I need no release and take no commands."

That gave it pause and it slumped a little, flames guttering lower. "Why call me?"

"Others were summoned, but you have been curiously close to these two, and your motives are in question," Lucifer said. "

"Only following the angels on earth," it said. Spines jutting out from its arms and shoulders, it twitched and stared at them. "They are bringing the oncoming storm."

Dean made an impatient noise. "That's all of the mystic crap I need to hear. If we can't have peace, then we'll take early warning. We're going to defend ourselves, just be sure and tell us where the next strike is coming from."

The figured jerked toward the edge of the circle and hit it, what could have been its face pressed and flattened into the barrier. "Brighter than the stars and burning ceaselessly," it said reverently to Lucifer. "Why won't you take your throne, Lightbringer?"

"I don't want it," Lucifer said. "Never have I claimed unwanted honors and I will not tolerate them being secured in my name."

"No offense was meant," the creature said.

"Nonetheless, when your masters gave this one," Lucifer gestured at Dean "an advantage no mortal has written of in generations, they attracted more than your opposition, and now you must concede that a simple resolution is impossible."

"They cannot control what they have been given," it said dismissively. "They will be brought down in time, and we will gain our advantage."

"Don't make me collapse this circle," Sam said warningly, and he felt the wind pick up around them.

"Think you that they know nothing of control?" Lucifer glanced at Dean. "Being of consequence means more."

Sam had been witness to his brother's Casanova role-playing in many situations, but standing outside a magic circle under an Esbat moon was a new setting. He watched as Dean and Lucifer gave each other sideways looks, heated and full of private jokes and acceptance that were behind a wall that Sam couldn't breach.

Dean grinned, hungry and let loose. "You want to see what we can do?" He turned his face up, into the wind that Sam was generating, and stretched his arms out, jacket sliding off onto the ground. Cloth tore, and his wings spread, bright and gleaming in the moonlight.

"I've shown you mine," Dean said to Lucifer. "Wanna compare wing spans?"

Sam groaned.

Lucifer's wings appeared and he spread them in the air currents. "It's rather what you do with what you possess that makes an impression." He turned his gaze to the being inside the circle and the flames suddenly grabbed ahold of its limbs and lifted it off the ground.

"So, having my attention, know that I may yet decide that my interest where the Winchesters are concerned outlasts expectations. And I pass along that I react badly when threatened."

"We will not be put off by an angel," it said, bravado held stubbornly like a shield.

"War it is," Lucifer said calmly, as if he heard such declarations all the time. "I bind you to the wishes of Samuel and Dean Winchester, to do with as they determine. As you are born of fire, let flame bind you." He reached out, laid his palm flat on the barrier and then put it through to touch the being's forehead. Its head jerked back as light whited out around it, and Sam and Dean had to turn their heads away.

When Lucifer stepped back, he pulled a white hankerchief out of his pocket and wiped his hands off.

"Must be a line of people after you," Dean said, not caring that his tone was insolent, as usual, no matter who he was talking to.

"The line grows shorter daily," Lucifer said.

"Heaven will fall," the creature said, still hunched over from whatever Lucifer had done to it and stared its gaze was fixed with unfriendly intensity on Sam and Dean. "Then, the patronage of an angel will be no kind of protection."

"Until then," Dean said, "you'd better watch yourself, and check in often."

It bowed and then smiled, showing blackened teeth. "Praise to the Lightbringer and his minions." With a soft pop, it vanished, leaving behind burnt grass and the sour smell of sulfur.

"Minions?" Sam asked, voice raised as he looked at Dean.

"I'd rather be an accomplice," Dean said.

"I have no need for mindless servants," Lucifer said.

"What a relief," Sam said, more boldly than he'd let himself be. "We're not going to let you hold this over us."

"There are other things that could have a more devastating impact. Take care that more notice isn't attracted to those vulnerabilities." Lucifer looked at Dean again and then Sam. "It will divide or unite you, and your choice is which because such forces do not disappear."

"Thanks," Sam said, "We'll keep that in mind."

"If you choose not to, you will be reminded," Lucifer said. He dipped his wings at Dean.

"Make certain that what is conveyed through your wings passes on with your permission. You can control more than you believe or understand."

"Any better advice on how I can keep a lid on this?" Dean asked.

"One of your greatest strengths is in deception and concealment," Lucifer said. "It will serve you well."

"Anyone asks, I won't tell them that the devil's gonna do them any favors," Dean said dryly.

Lucifer smiled. "If ever you're in Los Angeles, and have need, the doors of Lux will open for you," Lucifer said, which from him almost sounded like a blessing, although Sam was reluctant to label anything that the devil said as being anything but a mixed bag.

"That's almost sweet," Dean said. "Watch those magnanimous gestures."

"I dole them out very seldom," Lucifer said and brought his wings up and mantled them as he met Sam's unflinching stare.

"You have something to say to me?" Sam said.

"Boundaries and principles are acceptable crutches, but one must take care not to depend on them so heavily that they cannot be discarded when they confine you," Lucifer said.

"I know that," Sam said.

"Then stop reaching for control over freedom," Lucifer said. He didn't wait for Sam to thank him for the advice, they both knew such words weren't likely to be passed on. Instead, the devil nodded at each of them once. "Winchesters," he said, and launched himself skyward with powerful wing strokes.

"Go on, say it," Dean turned to the circle, back to his brother. "This was a big mistake, whatever you've got built up there, spit it out before you have an aneurysm or something, Sam."

Sam watched his brother rub out the circle with his hell, wings outspread and a his stomping taking him ever so slightly off the ground with each step. Whatever Sam said, Dean would bear the brunt of Sam's anger for many things as he'd learned the ways Sam's frustration manifested in the years growing up together. Even though Sam was taller now, his moods were much the same, and Dean was waiting Sam out, keeping himself out of the way while he worked.

It was an indelible fact that Dean would act as he saw fit in order to protect the people he cared for. Sam was relieved that it had only been a drink that Lucifer offered; anything more tempting had a better chance of being taken.

"We are going to talk about this, Dean," Sam said, and he wasn't talking about the elementals, the devil, or even the way that Dean managed to deal with danger and not think that the consequences might not make the results worthwhile. Everything else was dependent on how he and Dean handled what was happening between them.

"Like that will change anything," Dean said.

"Maybe not, but I don't know what to, or say that won't make you think I'm not ready to stick by you, even if it means we aren't like we used to be. We were never like anybody else, Dean. What works with us is always going to be different than the rest of the world."

"You couldn't handle that, remember?" Dean said.

"Things have changed since then, and we've changed," Sam said. "I thought I needed to be somewhere else to find what I wanted, and now I know that I can't." He was pouring out too much, Dean had paced the circumference of the circle twice, even though the grass was looking like it had been pounded down by campers and not by a ritual, and Dean wasn't raising his head when Sam stared hard at him.

"We've dealt with worse things than knowing each other," Dean said and turned ot give Sam the full force of his words. "You think I could stand for anyone else to get as close as you?"

Sam wanted that for Dean; his brother to realize that there were other people who would be interested in him, but being one of a pair was sort of like a victory, and if he couldn't be sure that they would win, he wanted to know where he stood and what he was holding onto.

Dean stepped away from the trampled grass and brushed his shoulder against Sam's as he stepped past him. "You done? We've got places to be."

"Yeah, we do," Sam said. "Something I need to do, first." He reached around and grabbed Dean, going through his defenses and dropped a quick kiss to the top of Dean's head, purposeful and matter of fact, something that needed to be done more often because it was right. "Just so you know," Sam said.

They pulled out onto the road, the morning coming over the horizon slowly until it spilled over everything, bathing it in warm light.

-end