The Journal of Sam Winchester

(not Sammy)

i'm looking over my shoulder
Sam Winchester psychic_wonder
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16 Unicorn Street, Tuesday Evening
After the weekend, Sam had been trying to avoid anyone who might want to talk to him about Lucifer. The less he thought about who he'd been and what he'd told people, the better he felt, but there was one person Sam couldn't avoid for much longer. Whoever his dad had been, he'd known Lucifer, and if anyone would know whether this was a fluke of Fandom or something serious to consider, it would be his dad. The question was, if John knew anything, would he share the information? Sam wasn't sure, but going to the house and knocking on the door was probably the only way he was going to find out.

John wasn't thinking about the weekend at all. He wasn't thinking about it very hard and he wasn't reading up on what he could find that might be relevant.

The books he shoved under the more usual demonology texts when he heard the knock on the door weren't anything religious at all.


He opened the door. "Sam."

"Hey Dad," Sam said, shuffling from one foot to the other as he tried not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." He stepped back to let Sam enter. "Are you... okay?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm okay," Sam said, going inside. "Physically speaking, I mean. How are you?"

"Uh, yeah. Fine." He forced a smile. "Never thought I'd be so happy to be old again..."

That got a snicker out of Sam. "You're not old," he said. "You're just...not quite as young as you used to be." It was just weird to think about his dad being as young as he'd been over the weekend.

"Getting more grey hair by the day it seems," John said ruefully.

"Yeah, well, that's as much the island's doing as mine," Sam said, thinking of everything they'd been through over the years as his face fell a little. "I should have--I mean, I wanted to come by sooner, I just, I didn't know what to say."

"It wasn't you," John said. "And it didn't mean anything other than the island has a terrible sense of humor."

"But he knew me," Sam said, starting with his biggest concern. "With everyone else, it was so random, like they weren't themselves at all, but Lucifer knew me. He knew my name and...who were you?"

John grimaced. "The archangel Michael. Apparently."

If this was any other situation, Sam might have been in awe at the idea of an archangel even existing, but now it just made everything seem even more serious. "He knew Lucifer, which means he probably knew us too. That doesn't worry you?"

Yes, but he wasn't about to admit that. "It just means there are Winchesters in whatever reality they are from," John said. "It's not ours."

"You think they're from somewhere else?" Sam asked, wanting to believe that his dad really convinced of that. "If you're really worried about this, you can tell me. You should tell me, so I can be concerned with you."

"I think," John said slowly, "that we've run into enough alternate Winchesters and those that know alternate Winchesters to not rule it out."

Some of Sam's worry faded at John's words, because he couldn't deny that that was true. "Did Michael mess with anyone? Lucifer met some of my friends and said terrible things."

"Well, Zoe wasn't too happy with him," John said dryly. "But no. He seemed rather singularly focused on Lucifer."

"As he should have been since, you know, Satan." Sam got thoughtful again for a moment. "Let's say, hypothetically speaking, that they weren't from another place with Winchesters. What should we be doing to protect ourselves?" This would be one time he might not even argue with John.

"I'm looking into that," John said.

"Can I help?" Sam asked, making the futile gesture just in case having an archangel in him had changed something in his dad's brain.

"I've got it under control for now," John said with a faint smile. "You've got enough on your plate with school."

"I can research and do schoolwork at the same time," Sam said. "This is my life, Dad. I don't want to be out of the loop."


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