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Nightmares

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When Lucifer first showed up at your door after what felt to both of you like a lifetime apart, he was elated. He had escaped, he was safe from Crowley’s torture, you were together again and for the first time in as long as he could remember, Lucifer felt safe.

The days were full of distractions. The Winchesters snarking about your trust in him, the occasional hunt, most of all the way you were always there, a constantly encouraging and comforting presence that made it all bearable. The nights were a little different.

Lucifer didn’t know what was worse. The nightmares, or the fact that he would wake up every night knowing they were memories.

His first night back on earth, he dreamt of the cage. Thousands upon thousands of years alone, alone with the knowledge that he was despised by everyone, even his own father. He dreamt of how it felt to meet you, to finally be loved by someone they way he loved them only for it all to be ripped away. For him to fuck everything over. For him to let you down.

That first night, he awoke in a pool of sweat with bile rising in his throat, scrambling upright to retch over the side of the bed. He had barely registered the cool touch of your hand rubbing comforting circles against his back, the pounding of his heart masking the feeling of your cheek resting against his shoulder while you whispered sweet nothings into his ear.

His breathing was panicked, frantically gasping for air before another twist of his stomach had him gagging over the edge of the bed again.

When the mattress dipped down beside him, Lucifer cried out, choking on stomach acid and saliva with the feeling that his chest was being crushed, his legs thrashing out in a panicked attack until a cool washcloth was laid down against his forehead and it finally clicked in his mind that you must have gotten up, settled down again beside him.

“Deep breaths, c’mon sweetheart, I’ve got you, you’re safe”

Your voice seemed miles away, a distorted murmur behind the choked rattle in his lungs, the far-too-fast pounding of his heart in his ears, but it was yours, and Lucifer felt a slight sense of calm wash over him.

You spoke again, but this time Lucifer didn’t hear your words, just the sound of your voice, full of love and concern and drowning out the screaming in his mind. When your hand slipped up slightly so that your fingers would brush against his forehead overtop of the washcloth, Lucifer instinctively leaned into your touch, his choked coughs calming enough that he could take in a full breath of air.

He felt you shift closer, dropping the now warm cloth onto the floor, beside what Lucifer had calmed enough to feel a twinge of guilt towards the mess he had made, but the thought drifted from his mind when he felt your fingers comb through his hair, brushing back the pieces that has been plastered to his forehead with sweat.

Lost in the feeling, it took him a moment to realize you were talking again, but once more your words were lost behind the slowly quieting hammer of his heart. Lucifer figured you could tell he wasn’t fully processing what you had to say, but you continued on nonetheless, your voice a comforting lull inside his mind

It wasn’t until Lucifer felt something cold tap at his fingers that he realized his eyes were squeezed shut, and immediately he snapped them open, half expecting to find himself back in Hell with Crowley holding an archangel blade to his wrist but instead being met with your worried eyes reflecting the dim light glowing from the bathroom, and a glance downward showed your fingers curled around a glass of water.

Taking the hint when you bumped the glass against his hand again, Lucifer took it with trembling fingers and allowed your own to wrap around his and lead the glass to his mouth.

He was thirsty. That was an understatement, he was absolutely desperate for water, but could only manage a small sip of the cool liquid before a sob was ripped from his throat and the glass fell from his hand, luckily not dropped by you.

Lucifer was calm now. He was supposed to be calm, he wasn’t dreaming anymore, he wasn’t scared, the pain was gone and you weren’t leaving, so why the hell wasn’t he calm

Lucifer tried to hug his knees to his chest, tried to bury his face against them but found himself led into your arms instead, and if he thought he was crying before, that was nothing, because the moment he pressed the side of his face into your collarbone, he lost it.

The Archangel’s body shook as he was wracked with sobs, arms tight around your waist as each shuddering cry was torn from his lips.

He didn’t know how long the two of you stayed like that, with his head tucked beneath your chin and arms slung around each other while he cried. Didn’t know when his sobs turned to wails, then to silent tears.

He didn’t know when he had moved closer, curled himself up in your arms. Didn’t know when you had tucked a blanket around his trembling form.

When the world did start to come into focus, the first thing that Lucifer recognized was your voice. Soft murmurs against his skin between kisses you pressed to his cheeks, his eyelids, the tip of his nose. Anywhere you could reach you would leave soft kisses, and the unfiltered, unabashed love exuding from everything you did gave Lucifer the strength to open his eyes.

Meeting your gaze, without a thought he drew his hand upward suddenly, sighing at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your jaw as his head swam with a newfound burst of emotion.

“I-”
His voice was ragged, catching on the syllable he managed to spit out. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted to tell you, he wanted to thank you for, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“Shhhh, sweetheart, you don’t have to talk about it. You don’t have to apologize. It’s ok, everything’s ok. You’re safe,” You whispered with a loving smile, gently adjusting yourself so you could cup Lucifer’s face in your hands, run your thumbs down his cheekbones.

He tried to smile. Tried to at least manage a twitch upward of his lips, but it was too much, and he felt hot tears welling in his eyes again.

“I love you, you know that, right? I’m not going anywhere, you don’t have to worry, it takes more than a nightmare to scare me off. I’m here for you, through everything. I promise. C’mon, let’s go get you cleaned up”

Lucifer fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, to shut himself away from the world until he felt you press your lips to his forehead again. He wasn’t used to feeling so loved. He wasn’t used to being loved at all, actually. This was new, unnatural, but it felt so right, and he let that guide him, giving you a slow nod and leaning his face into your hands again.

He knew the nightmares would be back. Knew the next night would be just as terrible. But at this moment, with you, he didn’t understand why, but he believed your words. Everything was going to be ok