#and my copy-paste went funny so God only knows if the same phrase I tried to move is somewhere in this post like 10 times

[help-me-find-a-name-please-lol]

CM HOTCH/REID HEADCANONS

My headcanon about Hotch leaving in Season 12, Reid's reaction, and trying to have it make some kind of sense.

Disclaimers:

This is the first rewatch of the later seasons I've done since it aired on TV, and I've only just finished Season 12 episode 4 (I do, however, know the early seasons ridiculously well).

From LDSK onwards, I only ever really watched it for Hotch, Reid, and the Hotch/Reid dynamic. I didn't really watch it after Hotch left, but caught bits and pieces because my roomates did.

Yes I know why Thomas Gibson left the show and why they had to suddenly wrap up his character. No, I don't condone violence in the workplace. I also never dove deeply into the behind-the-scenes lore of this show, cast and crew interviews, etc etc. This will purely be relating to the show as it was depicted on screen, and my love for the characters as their own entities.

I am not going back to fully source which eps all my observations come from, cos I'm supposed to be working on an assignment rn and CM transcripts are a ducking nightmare. I just wanted to put this idea out there cos I think we all need a bit of self-soothing after the crap they fed us to write Hotch out of the show.

Also fun story I just came back to finish writing this after being interrupted by what I though was someone trying to break into my house at 4am (heard a noise, gate wide open, can't see anyone but damn, scary. My town's big on crime, too). SO my thoughts may now be even more disorganised thanks to the adrenaline crash headache I'm currently experiencing.

So anyway like I said, just finished watching S12E04 Keeper, during which Reid gets a call we don't hear, is visibly upset by it, and takes a bit of prodding to discuss it with JJ and Rossi. He then reveals that he was just told his mother left her care facility on her own and was found wandering confused around a casino. He takes minimal convincing to head back to Quantico and lines himself up another couple of days off to visit his mum (yes I'm Australian, this is how we spell it lol).

MY HEADCANON: This is when Hotch called Reid to tell him that he was going into witness protection and wouldn't be coming back. (Exactly how much was discussed on the phone vs possibly being discussed/explained later in person is of course open to interpretation, but enough for Reid to know Hotch wanted to say goodbye and to not tell the rest of the team).

I know that his mum's issues are an ongoing valid storyline. But this is why it was also a plausible excuse for Reid to come up with on the spot as to why he was upset.

Another thing that makes it entirely plausible that the phone call was about Hotch is the long, significant staring Reid did at Prentiss as she walked away after they discuss what supposedly happened with his mum. To me that could scream that Reid was actually dealing with something team-related, and was already grieving how it would affect the other members of his team that he's keeping it from. He could have gazed down or elsewhere to communicate his worry for his mum to the audience, but he specifically turned and watched Prentiss leave, looking all angsty.

What's a heck of a lot less plausible:

His mum, who has been in care since Reid became a legal adult, suddenly escaping her care facility, despite having been in care for well over a decade and who now needs even more supervision due to Alzheimer's on top of her Schizophrenia. Yeah, escapes happen, but to make it all the way into a casino and being found in a confused state? When this didn't happen before Reid flew up and got her diagnosed her with Alzheimers? Even though she'd been getting some increased freedoms for doing well on her new meds prior to her sudden worsening with the Alzheimer's onset?

Hotch leaving without saying something directly to Reid first. Yeah, I'm a shipper, and I know Hotch has his son to think about, but I call BULLSHIT. Hotch knows all about Reid's abandonment issues and there is no way he'd want to end up on the same mental list Reid keeps alongside Reid's father and Gideon. When Gideon went AWOL, Hotch returned from suspension, despite the fight he knew it would cause with his wife, because "the team" needed him. Then Haley stressed "no, they need Gideon". Fully believe this was all just about Reid (I also kinda low-key believe Haley had an inkling about Hotch's thing for Reid but anyway). Hotch, Reid and Morgan functioned as a team while Gideon was on leave after the bomber case, Morgan didn't even really want Gideon to come back and would not have been that thrown by his absence. Reid however we all know was very emotionally-involved. And it's Reid that Hotch pulls aside to get his head back in the game (and who then gives them a breakthrough in the case shortly after, at Hotch's encouragement). When Gideon had officially left and Hotch addressed the team about it, he mostly directed what he was saying towards Reid, when he said that he couldn't explain why he'd left the way he did, etc. And when Hotch was trying to decide whether he'd take over as section chief after Strauss left, again he was addressing the team but pretty much turned and spoke directly to Reid when he said something along the lines of "if I decide to leave the BAU, you'll be the first to know". He also saw how much it killed Reid to be lied to about Prentiss (and you can see he felt like shit about it during Reid's assessment). This man. Would NOT. Have left Reid without saying goodbye. That's the hill I'm dying on. On top of that, Hotch is always the most emotionally-compromised whenever Reid is in danger, and he knows it (he let Gideon know he was currently a terrible example of "handling things emotionally" while Reid was being held by Hankel, resulting in Gideon's weak reassurance of "We'll get him"; when Reid got on that train with Elle he tried to stop it then immediately went to chat with the sniper; when Reid was in the cult compound he had to hand off negotiations to Rossi; when Reid was protecting Owen Savage; heck he practically yeeted Morgan out of the way when Reid was trying to talk down Maeve's stalker and they heard a gunshot. Etc etc.). And whenever Hotch gets emotionally affected by other things (eg that defence attorney for amnesia/coma guy, or regarding his brother), Reid is the one who can break through that and keep him steady. Reid is VERY IMPORTANT to Hotch and I don't see him hurting Reid in what to him is the worst way someone could do it.

Reid being so chill about Hotch suddenly leaving without saying goodbye. Goes without saying, yeah? But I'll say it. I get that they've been trying to paint him as more emotionally-mature and that he was able to handle Morgan leaving, but it is SO not the same relationship or circumstance and Reid would not have taken Hotch's departure in stride like that. I get that they also wanted the show and its characters to move on as quickly and as apparently unaffected as possible, but it still clearly flies in the face of proper characterisation. Reid is brilliant and back when he was being held by Hankel, I'm sure he could have found any number of ways to communicate with a specific team member at that moment, but he chose Hotch. He knew Hotch would be the only one capable of putting his ego aside at being "picked to die" and to listen properly to the rest of Reid's message. Once he confirmed that his message was correct and that he was in a cemetery, Reid was so sure that Hotch understood his message and would be coming to save him that he let his guard down for the first time. I think he only picked up that gun and shot Hankel with it in the end to just superstitiously make sure that the bullet never did reach Hotch (and to "free" Tobias, or whatever. Either way Hankel wasn't going for the gun or to use Reid as a shield when he turned to face off with the FBI and any of them could have taken him down easily). They've only been getting closer and closer over the years, on-screen and off (Fist-bump anyone? Always standing close together? Plus Reid's been teaching Jack magic tricks and was the one to get him smiling and laughing after Hotch got arrested by SWAT, which you know would make Hotch even more gooey for him). They're 100% an army of 2/hyper-competent power couple (take for instance the way Hotch and Reid were mirrored against Garcia and Kevin when she referred to her own pairing as the President and Vice-President after the bank blew up?) who can probably achieve 90% of the team's success level on their own. That super-serial-killer chick may have talked about Reid losing a "protector" in Morgan, but Hotch has always been the one Reid has come to or looked to. He was pretty distraught about the idea of Hotch leaving to be Section Chief, not that long ago, too. Also, constant super-crush behaviour which I could list but this post is already very long. Reid would not just immediately go "Prentiss is our leader now, this'll be great!". FFS.

Anyway we all know the way they wrote Hotch off was bullshit, hence the suuuper-long monologue to explain everything that's apparently happened off-screen, and yeah he'd totally enter WITSEC without even telling the team (until he decided to resign) when Peter Lewis had already hacked it once and killed the person on it before the team figured out who he was after and got there 🙄. All of it is super implausible. But to me, nothing more so than Reid's poor imitation of shock/surprise and almost total lack of emotional reaction. Him knowing beforehand, because Hotch already said goodbye to him, is the only thing that will ever make me be at peace with this crap from an in-universe POV.

This could all be shot to pieces in the next ep lol, but for now I'm just glad my brain has a way to make sense of it.

[themusicplayedherlife]

Take a Chance (Part 10)

pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader characters: Reader, Steve Rogers, Helen Cho word count: 2,000+ warnings: cussing (have you been reading this series?) a/n: i am so sorry. I thought i had scheduled this, but apparently i didn’t? it was in my fucking drafts but i’m so glad it didn’t post because this chapter needed some fixing and i needed some time to go over this. i also want to really thank @forevans​ for helping me feel a little more confident in this chapter and for going over this one and the past chapters, don’t know what I would’ve done without her! also, tell me what you think because i need validation guys ;w; summary: AU! After a one night stand at a friend’s wedding, you gain something that could possibly change your life and views on life for the better or worse.

Prev||All Parts||Next

Realization is a funny thing, it is. It can hit you all at once, or it can slowly consume you until you’ve come to terms with it and fully processed it. There will be moments when someone will explain this epiphany they just had to you and you won’t understand what it is they just went through until it happens to you, and when it does, it feels like your whole world has been shattered and rebuilt anew. It’s a really funny thing.

You knew Sarah and your mother would move quickly, you just didn’t think they’d move this quickly. Seriously. It’s only been, what? A few days since you and Steve announced you’d try marriage? And you're already at this stage? Already? (Or maybe this is Amora’s influence? You wouldn’t be surprised if she found some way to be involved in your wedding when she is miles away. She likes making her presence known, subtly or dramatically.)

You've tried complaining to your mom about how rapidly everything is happening but all she said was, “El tiempo no espera a nadie.” Time waits for no one.

Yeah, well time is a major dick.

The fourth dress you've tried on this afternoon is being carried away by one of the assistants in the bridal shop, while the fifth dress you're about to try on is being held by the manager of the shop. “I know this is the one,” she says before handing it over to you.

With her help, you try on this damned fifth dress, allowing the material to slip over your skin with ease. After all the dresses you've tried on, you've become a pro at trying them on; no more fussing and fighting. Doesn't mean you like it though.

The bridal shop’s manager pulls up the zipper as much as she can and clips it with some contraption where the zipper no longer reaches. When she’s done, she pats your back gently. You turn to face her and she gasps, covering her mouth with glee, tears appearing in the corner of her eyes. “You look gorgeous, m’dear.” You know it's her job to butter up her customers but for some strange reason, unlike the other times, you believe her this time. “Come on, let's show your family.”

Leaving the small dressing room, you hold the front of the skirt while she holds the back. It isn't until you've reached the entrance of the waiting room, where your family is waiting, that you both drop the skirt. They're noisily talking amongst themselves about the wedding details but as soon as you enter the room, they all let out small gasps and stunned comments.

Trying to ignore the nerves you hadn't felt earlier with the other dresses, you make your way over to the mirror settled in front of the guests.

“Mija… you look…” your mother breathes out.

“I think...I think I'm going to cry.”

You stare at your reflection, looking almost unrecognizable and too beautiful for words.

Never in a thousand years did you believe you would ever find yourself in a bridal shop showing off a wedding gown to your friends and family; never would have thought you would feel the excitement coursing through your veins; never would have thought you would actually look forward to wearing something so beautiful for just one night. Never.

Your eyes drift up and down your figure and suddenly you stop, you freeze.

Your breath hitches and the back of your nose starts burning as the tears start clouding your eyesight. Your fingertips skim over your stomach--your slowly growing stomach. It’s a little bigger and rounder and your waistline a little wider, all noticeable in the wedding dress and you feel such an overwhelming emotion of love washing over you. It hits you like a crashing tidal wave that's trying to push you desperately back to shore instead of out to sea. As if you had been straying too far from the truth and you were finally being guided back to the reality you tried so desperately to run away from and are now trying to accept.

You feel a twinge of sadness that you hadn't noticed it before, not when you were home alone or home with Steve. It's something you should've noticed earlier, but it's okay. It's okay because you're aware of it now while you're wearing a wedding dress, in the middle of a bridal shop surrounded by loved ones. It's okay.

Your hand immediately comes to rest on your stomach and you smile broadly as you taste the tears that are slipping down your cheeks and rolling over your top lip, not caring if your company notices. You splay your fingers over your stomach, gently caressing the fabric of the dress as if it were your skin.

“This is it. This is the dress.”

The first thing that greets you when you open the door to your soon to be home, is Steve laying on the couch with the remote in his hand. He looks up as you close the door behind you, lowering the volume of whatever the hell it is he’s watching.

“Hey, how was dress shopping?” He sounds a bit groggy, and you assume he must’ve taken a nap while he waited for you.

“Weird,” you say, dropping your copy of the keys on the coffee table along with your purse. “But strangely… well.”

“Yeah?” He sits up so you can at least sit on the other end of the sofa. “Wasn’t hell like you thought it would be?”

“Oh, no,” you snort, sitting, “it was hell. The first four dresses I tried on definitely made sure that I would have a horrible time.” He chuckles, nodding his head to sign he’s listening. “But then,” you fidget, wondering how to phrase your experience, “I tried on this dress and... I saw myself in the mirror and it was like this wave of emotions just hit me all at once.”

“Sounds overwhelming.”

“It was, but it was a good overwhelming.” He doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to explain with a raised eyebrow. “Instead of me thinking I was getting married, all I could focus on was this,” you place your hands on your stomach that is slowly starting to show. However, it isn’t as obvious with the loose t-shirt you’re wearing, not like it was when you were wearing the tight dress earlier. “That this is happening.”

His eyes glue onto your stomach, only flickering upwards once to meet your eyes before sliding back down. With a teasing smirk, he says, “And that didn’t occur to you when you found out from the doctor?”

You roll your eyes. “Obviously, it did. Had a mental breakdown as soon as the doctor said ‘congratulations’. But this… this feeling I felt compared to then... it’s... different.” You pause, biting your bottom lip. “It’s hard to explain. Really hard. What I felt when I saw this tiny baby bump in that dress, it was… I--I don’t know how to describe it, Steve. God, era como magia--like magic.”

You try to catch his gaze, but it remains firmly glued on your covered stomach. You wonder what he’s thinking, whether he’s trying to understand what your words mean or if he’s trying to search for some type of replicated feeling you felt--feel--within himself. Finally, he removes his gaze from your stomach and sighs.

“Come on,” he swings his long legs off of the couch and shuts off the television with the remote before placing it down on the coffee table, “we should get going, or else we’re going to be late.”

Frowning, you nod, following him after you grab your keys and purse once more.

The drive to your destination doesn’t take long, but the silence inside the car, between you and Steve, well mostly from Steve, makes it feel longer. Even the waiting in the waiting room area feels long, all because Steve wouldn’t say a damn word to you.

“Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, if you could follow me, please.”

“We’re not even married yet and they’ve already changed my name,” you grumble as you stand up from your seat with Steve following after you chuckling.

“I like it,” he states clearly, breaking his silence. “Makes it feel official.”

“As if us having a baby and being a couple of weeks away from a shotgun wedding isn’t already official,” you murmur, hoping Steve wouldn’t hear you.

He doesn’t. Thank god.

The nurse guides you down the hall to a familiar room, the same room you were in when you found out you were pregnant. She tells you what to do and you follow her instructions while Steve takes a seat on the chair next to the medical bed you lay on. The nurse excuses herself after settling you in. “Dr. Cho will be in with you in a moment.”

You both thank her in unison, silence reigning once more as you wait for your doctor to come in.

Steve taps his foot against the floor, his eyes skimming over every nook and cranny, looking completely awkward and out of place. Or maybe nervous. You don't blame him. You're just as nervous, or maybe more. But maybe not for the same reason he is.

“Will you stop that?”

“Stop what?” He taps his foot continuously, his knee bouncing.

“That,” you point at his busy leg, growing annoyed.

“I'm sorry. I can't help it.” He rubs his palms on his thighs. “I just--I can't help but worry. What if something’s wrong?”

You stare at him, his eyes firmly stuck on the poster with pregnancy warnings.

Ever since he started reading those pregnancy books, the ones with all the warnings and what to expect during the first weeks of pregnancy, Steve has been cautious about everything. Just the other day, he had invited you out for coffee (well, coffee for him and some hibiscus and lemonade bullshit for you; and you call it bullshit because shit cost you five dollars and it wasn’t that great! You imagined your mom saying “Esa chingadera costo cinco dolares? I could’ve made that at home for nada!”) and literally went through the menu and asked the poor barista what ingredients each thing had just to make sure there wasn’t anything harmful. It was cute, until he really started badgering the barista and making the poor girl nervous.

Before you can say anything to ease his nerves (or heighten them and yours), there's a knock on the door and in walks in your doctor. She smiles brightly, greeting you by your last name instead of Mrs. Rogers. “It's good to see you again.”

“Likewise.”

When she turns to Steve, she holds her hand out which he takes, shaking it firmly. “And you must be Steve Rogers, the baby’s father.”

“That’s me. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

Dr. Cho turns to you, asking you questions about how you've been feeling so far while she occupies herself by lathering on some of the gel on the small device. “Alright, this is going to be a little cold…” she says as she moves the gel around your stomach, feeling cold and a slight pressure as she searches around your stomach.

Steve moves to your side, stopping by the bed as he watches the display screen completely transfixed. You grin, loving how his eyes widen with curiosity and scan the display, his mouth parting ever so slightly.

There are sounds coming from the machine and when you hear Helen’s, “Aha!” You turn your attention to the screen, seeing something a size of a pomegranate seed, like a little bean. Soon enough the room is filled with the sound of a washed out heartbeat and your own heart begins to beat rapidly.

“Is that…”

You feel your throat closing, a feeling building up inside of you as you watch the screen. Your baby isn’t fully developed yet, but there’s a heartbeat. You’re hearing your baby’s heartbeat for the first time ever. And like earlier, when you saw your reflection in the mirror, you feel your eyesight beginning to blur, tears slowly forming as you feel a powerful, overwhelming feeling washing over your very being.

“That’s your baby,” Dr. Cho chirps, using her unoccupied hand to point at the small image.

“That’s our Shrimp…” Steve breathes, regaining your attention with his quivering voice and soft touch as his fingers lock with yours. His eyes morph as they stay glued to the screen, resembling the gentle curve of a crescent moon lit up by the tears and tenderness (and love) in his clear, blue hues. There isn’t a defined smile gracing his sharp features--that have somehow become soft--but he’s not frowning either, there’s just a small quirk that’s hard to see with the way he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. You know he feels it, you know he’s understanding exactly what you meant earlier; you know he’s drowning in the feeling. And it’s that spark shining so brightly in his beautiful eyes that makes your chest swell, makes a giddy, tearful laugh escape your lips.

Maybe, just maybe, things are going to be okay. If he continues to look at your baby that way, things are going to be okay.

“Our Shrimp…” you repeat, warmth spreading through your chest.

Translations:

“El tiempo no espera a nadie.” Time waits for no one.

“Mija.” = “Daughter.”

“Era como magia.” = “It was like magic.”

“Esa chingadera costo cinco dolares?” = “This fucking thing costs five dollars?”

Tags (If you asked to be tagged and you’re not on the tag list, send me a message so I can fix that right away! Those that have a strike through them is because I had trouble tagging):

@anyakinamidala , @etherealxslytherin , @incarcenatedangel, @nobodys-baby-now , @pacifikaproudaotearoa, @lady-thor-foster, @on-your-left-marvel, @shelvesandwhelves , @wildestdreamsrps, @bicevans, @caitsymichelle13, @alyssaj23, @debzybrazy, @jonsnowisnotdeadthough, @meatballevans, @allyp1023, @hollycornish, @bands-and-shietz, @sebastianst-n, @hillrich, @trustmeimthehiddlestoner, @renner-hawkeyeloves, @4eyedbandit, @jesslovesfandom, @tragicalchemist, @themanwiththemetalarm, @ailynalonso15, @mysingingheart1301, @fireismysaftey , @lexie-mo

[illuminating-dragons]

Nesting (3/?): The Apologies of Archangels

Summary:  Sam and Adam have been enjoying the afterlife, but an important date rolls around and they have to face their pasts one more time.

Read it on AO3

           Sam turned the page of his book and smiled when he felt his wife drop a kiss on his head.

           “You’ve read that book a thousand times.”

           “I just felt like reading this again.” Sam tapped the cover. “After all, we have the time.”

           “Funny how being dead will do that,” his wife agreed.

           They’d been dead over nine hundred years now, and Sam could hardly remember how they’d died. They were together here, and that was enough. Their families were close by, and sometimes their descendants would come and join them. It always gave Sam a thrill to see someone with Sarah’s eyes, with Charlie’s smile, with Dean’s skill. They’d left the world a good legacy, and from the stories that came up it was lasting.

           “Is Jess coming over?”

           “Yes. She’s bringing cookies.”

           Jess had begun to join them about three hundred years ago, first just in visits and then in their bed. It still blew Sam’s mind that this was happening, but his wife and girlfriend, who adored each other as much as he adored them, helped him to get over that most of the time. Being able to love them both was one of the best parts of being dead, and he tried to show his gratitude as best he could.

           Sam reached up and took Sarah’s hand. They were as happy in death as they had been in life, with their loved ones around them and plenty of things to explore. Maybe later their children would come over, and they could watch a movie.

           There was a knock at the door.

           “Is that her already?”

           “I don’t think so,” Sarah frowned. “She likes to do things in real time.”

           She went to the door and opened it to Chuck.

           “Hi Chuck,” Sam said, standing up automatically. It was odd to see God; he was busy, after all. Now that Sam thought about it, he hadn’t seen Chuck in over a hundred years.

           “Hello Sam, Sarah. How are things?”

           “Everything’s great,” Sarah said politely. “Is there something we can do for you?”

           Chuck hesitated, and Sam’s stomach sank. Something was wrong.

           “It has been a thousand years since my return,” Chuck said.

           For a moment, Sam couldn’t think of the significance of that number. Then he remembered back a thousand years, back to the day he was healed.

           “Was your prediction right?” he asked.

           Chuck nodded, face grave. “They have repented.”

           “Who are you—oh.” Sarah’s face hardened. “Well, who cares if they have?”

           “Sarah—”

           “Don’t Sarah me, Sam!”

           “Sweetheart, let’s just listen for a moment,” Sam said, taking her hand.

           Sarah gritted her teeth, but nodded.

           “I went to the Cage today, and both Michael and Lucifer have repented,” Chuck explained. “I have heard their apologies, both to myself and to each other.”

           “Did you apologize to them?” Sam asked. “For putting them at each other’s throats?”

           Chuck winced. “I did. We had a long talk. And they would like to speak to you and offer their apologies.”

           “Are you sure?” Sarah snapped. “Are you positive they even mean it?”

           “Yes.” Chuck’s voice brooked no argument. “They have caused a lot of damage to your husband and your brother-in-law. I will not risk their peace.”

           “Do I have to forgive them?” Sam asked.

           “No. It’s your choice to listen to them at all,” Chuck replied. “Either way they will return to Heaven, but Heaven is much bigger than you may think. You will never see them again if that is your wish.”

           Sam looked at Sarah. “What do you think, honey?”

           Sarah’s eyes were worried. “I think you should do what you want, but I’m worried this might not be good for you.”

           Sam thought about it. He could say no. He could refuse them, but he had questions, still wondered about some things.

           “I’ll talk to Lucifer,” he decided. “I don’t want—I don’t need to talk to Michael. He’s got other people to apologize to more than me.”

           “He has several apologies to make,” Chuck agreed, his face hardening. “I will get Lucifer, Sam.” He nodded to Sarah, and left.

           Sam kissed Sarah. “I want to talk to him alone, okay? Why don’t you go to Jess? I’ll join you later.”

           Sarah kissed him back, clutching at him, and Sam clung back, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. He had nine hundred years standing between him and those memories, but suddenly it was like those one hundred and twenty years were the only ones that mattered.

           He let Sarah go, and took a deep breath. “Go on, sweetheart.”

           Sarah nodded. “I love you, Sam. I’m proud of you.”

           Sam managed a smile as she went out the door.

           Then it hit him. Adam.

           He dialled Adam’s number. Adam picked up on the first ring.

           “He talked to you too, did he?”

           “Yes.” Sam was a bit surprised. “How…what are you going to do?”

           Adam didn’t answer for a moment. When he did, his voice was a bit shaky. “I’m going to talk to Michael,” he said eventually. “I want answers from him. I don’t need answers from Lucifer.”

           “I’m talking to Lucifer,” Sam said. “Adam…do you want to come here?”

           “I don’t think so.” His brother’s voice, so confident for most of their life together, was now trembling. “I think that might be worse. Can I come over after though?”

           “Of course,” Sam said immediately. Sarah and Jess would understand. “Just…maybe wait for me to text?”

           “Sure. Bye Sam.”

           Adam hung up. Now the room was silent again. Sam fought the urge to pace, to tap the chair, to do anything that showed how nervous he really was.

           He could still say no, still change his mind, but the questions that had been nagging at him for a thousand years would never be answered if he changed his mind. It was the last part of the Cage that wouldn’t leave him alone.

           There was a knock, a hesitant knock at the door.

           Sam took a deep breath and opened it.

           Adam stood on the porch of his and Kevin’s house, the home they’d bought when they got married. Kevin had offered to stay, but Adam had refused. He didn’t want to let his husband stand before his old tormentor.

He stood with his arms folded and stared at the archangel, marvelling that it didn’t make his eyes hurt.

           Michael had taken human form, a dark haired man with intense eyes. He was shorter than Adam, but Adam still felt small. No, he told himself sternly. You are not small.

           “Adam Milligan.”

           “It’s Adam Tran,” Adam corrected him. “Michael.”

           “Of course.” Michael inclined his head. “Is this your home?”

           “Yes. What do you want, Michael?”

           “I was wrong.”

           It took a moment for Adam to find his voice. “What do you mean?”

           “When I lost Lucifer, I also lost my father. Then I lost Gabriel. Clearly something had gone wrong with the great plan for Heaven. I believed it was my responsibility to fix it, and I did as efficiently as possible.”

           “By torturing people.” Cas’ scars were the last to fade, about two hundred years before. “By killing those you couldn’t control.”

           “I did. I saw a flaw in the angel’s coding, and I had to fix it. That is why I entrusted Naomi with the reprogramming efforts; she did not have the same flaw. And I noticed that it worked with many; the flaws stopped.”

           “I am sorry, Adam Tran. I was wrong.”

           Adam blinked. “What do you mean?”

           “I was wrong to think that my father wanted the Apocalypse. I was wrong in thinking that I had to force angels not to change, to develop,  I was wrong to hate humanity when I noticed the same flaw in them. And I was wrong, Adam Tran, for punishing you.”

           “Because I tried to save Sam.” That day, so long ago in Stull cemetery, in a moment of clear control he’d tried to pull Sam back, but the pull of the Cage had yanked him in instead.

           “Not only that. You were born to be my vessel, Adam Tran. You were born to serve, and that was what was supposed to happen. And you didn’t.”

           “I didn’t agree with you.”

           “I understand this now. And truly, that has been my problem all along.” Michael looked away. “I have always believed that I am supposed to be obeyed. I was the First. The one he got right, and the rest were flawed copies.”

           “That is incredibly fucking arrogant.”

           Michael actually smiled. “I am aware.” He sighed. “You know, once I cared for more than my brother and father. I cared for the younglings, I cared for the world. But I stopped caring when they stopped listening, and I did what I wanted, willing to ignore their suffering if it brought me peace.”

           “And did it?” Adam asked.

           Michael shook his head. “No. No, it did not. None of it ever did.”

           Adam looked away. “What will you do now?”

           “I do not know,” Michael admitted. “I have submitted to the judgement of my father. He will give me work, and I will do it. I am eager to relearn how to care. It has been a long time. You and your family have learned that lesson in far less time.”

           “I never stopped trying,’ Adam said. He thought for a moment, trying to decide how to phrase what he wanted to say. “I hope you remember how to care. Just…remember that it’s going to hurt like a bitch to care. And that there will be people who won’t care about you anymore, after what you have done.”

           Michael flinched, and Adam took a brief, savage satisfaction in that. “I know,” he replied quietly. “Believe me, I know. Farewell, Adam Tran.”

           And because he’d been a doctor, and he hated to hurt people without giving a good reason, and because after over a thousand years of existing Adam had a better idea of what eternity felt like, Adam blurted out, “good luck.”

           Michael stared at him. “Your species will surprise me forever.” He vanished.

           Adam collapsed against the house, breathing heavily. He pressed his hands to his face, trying to get himself under control.

           He hadn’t forgiven Michael. That wasn’t going to happen. But somehow he’d gone from hating him to feeling overwhelmingly sorry for him.

           Whatever Michael had done to him, he was going to do a thousand times over to himself.

           For a second, Sam thought it was Nick Starr[1] himself at the door; they’d found each other about five hundred years before. It helped, sometimes, to sit in silence with the only other person who’d been possessed by the Devil.

           But no, this wasn’t Nick. Nick slouched a bit when he walked and usually had his hands in his pockets. Lucifer, on the other hand, stood straight and proud, arms to his sides.

           He looked less proud now, somehow.

           Sam swallowed hard. “Lucifer.”

           “Sam.” His voice was different too. There was no sneer in it, no coldness. It sounded…empty. “What do you want of me?”

           “Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?”

           Lucifer shrugged, stepping into the room. “I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need something from me; Dad’s made that pretty clear.”

           Sam frowned. “He said you wanted to talk to me.”

           “I wanted to give you a chance to ask questions. I don’t really need to hear anything from you.” There was a flash of his old attitude, and Sam gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to take a step back.

           Lucifer noticed, and dropped his stance. “I’m not going to hurt you, Sam.” He looked weary all of a sudden, and Sam could see the weight of a thousand years in the Cage. “If you want me gone, I will leave.”

           Sam cleared his throat. “I do…I have some questions.”

           Lucifer inclined his head. “Fire away.”

           “Did you ever care?”

           Lucifer’s eyes widened. “I’ve got to say, I did not expect you to lead with that one.”

           “I’ve been around for over a thousand years,” Sam replied, “and I’ve learned the difference between pain inflicted out of hate…and pain inflicted by hate that was once something else. Something closer to love. And what you did to me felt more like the second.”

           Lucifer nodded slowly. “You’re smarter than I remember.” He paused for a minute. “Sam, I was in that Cage for millennia in Earth time. In Hell time…well, I’m older than anyone but my Father himself right now. Much older than Michael. And all that time, I could hear Hell growing around me, hear the sounds of the preparations for the Apocalypse. Sometimes I could hear the demons praying to me, telling me about the world they hated so much. It oozed hatred and malice, and I let myself drown in it. After all, this was what I was supposed to be.”

           “And was that right?” Sam asked before he could stop himself. It was his second question, one he’d been too afraid to ask Chuck. “Did your Father—”

           “Want me to be the Devil? Oh yeah. Daddy wanted me to be the ruler of Hell, the punisher of the wicked. The world needed one, after all.” Lucifer sighed. “It was supposed to be a job that I accepted, not a punishment, but…well, I ruined that. But to get back to your question—those were long, dark days and nights. I was alone. The only thing I could think of—the only person I could think of without it hurting—was you. Only you. I didn’t know your name then, didn’t know anything about you. Only that you were going to be a human who was as out of place as me, and we would rule the world together. So yes, there was a time that I cared.”

           “And there’s something else.” Lucifer looked him straight in the eye. “I would have brought your family back. All of them. I would have put you in a dream world where you thought you were safe and whole and happy, and let you go on.”

           “I wouldn’t have wanted that.”

           “I know. I didn’t care. And that’s the real answer to your question. By the time I knew who you were—who Sam Winchester was—I realized I didn’t really care about you as a person. You were my Vessel, and that was all that mattered. You would choose me, and we would feel complete together…but I didn’t care what your name was. I didn’t care about your brother, or your family, or your dreams. I’m guessing you could tell.”

           “Yes.”

           “Well. There’s your answer. I cared about you as the role you would play. I never really liked you.” Lucifer crossed his arms. “So that’s two questions. Do you have any others?”

           Sam bit his lip. He did, but he wasn’t totally sure he wanted to hear the answer. Throwing caution to the wind, he asked anyways.

           “Would you have ever stopped hurting me?”

           Lucifer uncrossed his arms. “Well. That’s the same question my Father asked me, though I guess yours is in a different context.”

           “Answer the question.”

            “I would have stopped eventually. Not sure when; remember, my scale of time is very different than yours, different than most angels. Heaven isn’t as old as me. But I would have stopped, and do you want to know the honest reason?”

           Sam nodded.

           “I would have gotten bored,” Lucifer said simply. “When you threw us back into that Cage—when I realized that I had to go back—I decided to just do whatever the fuck I wanted. If that meant hurting you, or fighting Michael, or counting all the panels in the Cage—there are fifty million and seven, by the way—I was going to do it.”

           “And what do you want to do now?”

           Lucifer sighed. “I have absolutely no idea. I wanted to stop being angry: you see the result before you. It took a long time—”

           “A thousand years exactly.”

           “Really? I would have thought longer.” Lucifer considered that for a moment. “But there isn’t really anything I want to do. For the first time I can remember, I have no axe to grind.”

           Sam didn’t really want to think about the consequences of a bored Lucifer.  

           “Sam.” The archangel’s eyes were intense. “I won’t be hurting anyone. That I can promise. And you will never see me again, if you don’t want to.”

           “I don’t.” It was easy.

           “Good. Neither do I. Father explained that you were made to challenge me; I am too tired for challenges now.” The archangel did look exhausted. “I have amends to make in Heaven, and then I think I will try to sleep. Perhaps when I wake I can find a task that will give me some purpose.”

           Sam hesitated, then reached out his hand. Lucifer stared at him, but he took it.

           “Good luck,” Sam said, and he was astonished to realize he meant it. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

           Lucifer shook his head and gripped Sam’s hand for a second before letting it go. “You’re never what I expect, Sam Winchester.” And he vanished.

           Sam waited a few seconds to make sure he was really gone before texting Adam.

Done.

His brother’s response came almost immediately. Me too.

           Come over.

           Adam burst through the door a few seconds later. Sam grabbed hold of him, enfolded him in trembling arms.

           “Did you—” Adam was shaking.

           “It’s okay,” Sam whispered. “Ad, don’t try to talk.”

           Adam shook his head. “Sam, did you forgive him?”

           “No.” He still couldn’t, even after all this time.

           “Good. Me neither.”

           “I don’t think they deserve it yet. Maybe they never will.”

           “Yeah.” Adam shuddered. “I thought I forgot what he felt like. I remembered.”

           “We’ll forget some day,” Sam promised him. “And it’s over now, isn’t it? We’ve said our piece, no matter what.”

           Adam nodded against his chest. They stood together, trembling in the soft light.

           “I should go back and see Kevin.”

           “I need to go too, Sarah and Jess are waiting for me.” Sam drew back, ready to stay put if Adam needed him. But Adam stepped away himself and gave Sam a smile. It was a small smile, but it was enough. His brother was okay.

           Maybe I’m okay too.

            “See you soon, Sam. Maybe we could have a family gathering tomorrow?”

           “Sounds good to me.”

           Adam clapped his hands and vanished. Sam took a deep breath and clapped too.

           He landed in Jess’ kitchen. She and Sarah were standing at the counter, talking quietly. When they saw him, they stopped talking.

           Sam started to explain—he wanted to tell them, wanted to hear what they thought—but his throat was suddenly so tight he could barely breathe.

           He didn’t even need to breathe.

           Sarah came forward and took his hands. She led him into Jess’ bedroom, where the bed was big enough for three, even their three. Jess was just behind them.

           Sam laid down, suddenly exhausted, and Sarah curled up behind him, putting her arms around him. Jess set a plate of cookies on the night table and cuddled into his chest, sighing as he held her close.

           “I—I can’t talk right now,” Sam whispered.

           “It’s okay, baby.” Jess kissed him. “We’re right here when you’re ready.”

           “I’m so lucky,” Sam managed, his voice cracking as he kissed Jess’ forehead, took Sarah’s hand. “So lucky.”

           “So are we,” Sarah replied. “We all get to love each other.”

           Sam kissed her hand hard, just over her wedding ring, and closed his eyes. He knew that his girls would let him sleep.

           And the archangels? Well, the oldest was lonely that night, hidden from the sight of their siblings and listened to the talk about them being back, wincing as he remembered the deeds that caused the hate in their voices. His brother fared no better; he stalked about Heaven, feeling no connection to the place which had once been his home. Their father watched them. It hurt to watch his children suffer, but his heart felt lighter than it had in thousands of years. The process had begun, and he could see that they would find their places again.  

The next day Sam woke up, and the three had cookies and talked quietly and spent the morning making love before they got up. Sam braided Jess’ hair and rubbed Sarah’s feet and the three of them set off for the gathering at Dean and Cas’ Heaven, where they hung out with the rest of their family. Adam was quiet with Kevin and their daughter, but his smile was stronger and Sam could talk without trouble now and they would be fine, and they would be happy each day, and that happiness would one day give them the strength to truly forgive, and rejoice in that forgiveness.

But not that day.  

[1] I couldn’t help myself.