it comes with a price, tag wesley

The conversation between the Devil and dead man was, by far, one of the most important conversations Wesley had carried since he had been brought back to wander along the face of the Earth, being denied his more or less peaceful eternal rest. It would have been easy to think of this encounter in terms of a last resort in Wesley's attempts to free himself of Wolfram and Hart but the truth was that there had been so many “last” resorts until now that the ghost had lost count of them. It happened before that Wesley thought he reached the end of the road, only for a new path to open up in front of him – it happened so often that he was preparing himself for the day in which he would realize that the end was really the end. For all he knew, this one encounter could really be the last card he was allowed to play and, instead of his mind being one hundred per cent into the game, Wesley found himself more and more distracted by the setting in which they found themselves. Imaginary as it might have really been, to Wesley it felt extremely real, as if all of his dreams and memories had suddenly materialized themselves and he could touch them once more. Ah, how his mind went through such ridiculous scenarios that unwound themselves into his mind in the span of mere seconds. If only, at the end of this conversation, he would be able to move on from the middle of this setting which he loved so much...

If only... Things were not going to be as easy as his imagination would have liked them to be. Although Lucifer was more than likely powerful enough to snap his fingers and break the strings which held him attached to Wolfram and Hart, he had no reason at all to do it, which was why Wesley needed to invest his full attention into the conversation, as he imagined that even the smallest of details might offer him the information he needed in order to be able of making an offer which Lucifer would find hard to refuse. So far, he had not learned anything new: Lucifer carried a very deep hatred for humanity. Wesley did not consider himself able to use this detail to his advantage. It was one thing being ready to make a pact with the Devil himself and a completely different one siding with him against humanity. Even if, by absurd, he would have had the strength and skills to help Lucifer do something that would endanger the species which he loathed so much, Wesley could not see himself doing it. There was a limit to his selfish desire to move on and to his ruthlessness.

“Oh, but Heaven is forgiving.”

The seed of doubt was now planted and Wesley's efforts to hide it were in vain. The voice of reason kept reminding him of the fact that Lucifer could very well be playing a really cruel mind trick with him – a very effective one. ”Are you saying that I would have headed there?” He hoped that the answer would be as direct as his question had been. It wasn't as if he would still be heading there, not after having contacting the Devil for a deal, he thought. ”Does it look to you like I am afraid? What more could I lose? What else could be done to me to make me suffer?” His intention was not to dare or defy Lucifer, the questions being sincere. When Lucifer questioned about his source, Wesley thought it might be wise if he avoided giving names, at least momentarily. Dean was not on the list of Lucifer's favorite persons, that much was obvious from the conversation he had with him that night. ”Just someone I walked into one night, we had a conversation, your name and the cage were mentioned, nothing much.”

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so if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and some taste
JUST CALL ME LUCIFER, ‘CAUSE I’M IN NEED OF SOME RESTRAINT
use all your well-learned politesse, or I’ll lay your soul to waste
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Most of what Lucifer did had a purpose. He served his own agenda, best interests that adhered only to him and if it didn’t fit in that standard than he might as well not bother. There were larger things to attend to, after all, and he couldn’t be expected to follow the whims of a human simply because he was capable of it. There was no sympathy or compassion for them as it was. And only because Wesley was a ghost didn’t mean that Lucifer couldn’t harm him. He could, in one hundred different ways. Humanity was weak and frail, easy to snap, mentally and physically. And a human in desperation already met that criteria of being simple to shatter. Even when someone thought they could lose it all and hit rock bottom, that wasn’t necessarily so. There were ways to take people deeper and farther down, beyond what they once comprehended and into a pain that could fracture their mentality forever. Now, it wasn’t that he planned to do any of those things, but Lucifer was never unaware of what power he held and who was in charge of this situation. It might have been Wesley who made the initial summons and it might have been his request that Lucifer was taking time to hear, but it wasn’t as though he was the stronger one or that Lucifer owed him anything. He had to give him credit for being careful on this point. So far, he hadn’t done poorly with the respect and not acting as though he were owed anything by Satan himself. Nobody was. But, if the right cards were played, he wouldn’t say no to assisting him. Not if it could serve his better interests in some manner. That was key, really. If there was nothing to gain, then he lost interest. It wouldn’t be an uncommon phenomenon, even to human standards. They were just the same, more often than not. Out for themselves. Only, Lucifer wasn’t about to draw in a comparison between him and the hairless apes. They were, after all, lower on the spectrum and like humans, if they tried, could probably find common ground between them and an ant, Lucifer could do it with humanity.

Lucifer had no true way of knowing whether or not Wesley would have been headed to heaven or hell. Neither party owned his soul. Aside from Wolfram & Hart, and if it weren’t for that contract, then Lucifer supposed he could have gone either way. It didn’t matter to him whether he was telling the truth or a lie. In honesty, he was telling the truth, because he never gave Wesley a clear answer. He never told him directly that he would have gone to Heaven. All that he wanted was to embed that little bit of doubt, to make the man question everything that he had done and the beliefs that he held. Heaven could have been his. Of course, he would know nothing about what Heaven truly was like. No human did until they arrived there. And Lucifer would never see it again. But, Hell wasn’t a place that anyone wanted to be. Even demons would rather stay on Earth than be banished back to Hell. It was unpleasant for all of them. “It’s been a long time since I understood who’s admitted into Heaven.” He shrugged. “But, you had a chance.” That, in itself, wasn’t a lie. He did have a chance, but as of now? Lucifer still had no direct answer for him. Just, that he wasn’t completely damned to Hell before. Now, after this? There was a good chance that he would go straight to Hell. If the deal with Wolfram & Hart wasn’t bad enough, dealing with the Devil was as bad. Frankly, when deals and souls weren’t involved, there was no real way to know. He raised his eyebrows momentarily in question at Wesley’s thoughts on being unable to suffer more. He wondered if he knew just how wrong he was. “I’m sure you don’t want me to concoct a list.” Lucifer commented, a smirk tugging at his lips, but one that never quite came into play. There was such a subtle amusement in the thought of what could be done to him. And there was so much more to torture than what he already faced. Lucifer knew how to cause pain, how to make someone break over and over within themselves. And naturally, he knew of several ways he could prove Wesley wrong and reveal that he could lose so much more. “There aren’t many who would talk like that...” He commented, naturally, he wanted to know who it was that he’d run into. If someone was talking enough about him, that could be a point of interest. Or it could be nothing at all. But the truth was, there weren’t many humans that knew what had happened and if he was talking to angels or demons, then that, too, could have been something worth knowing.


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\\WORD COUNT: 817!?\\STATUS: done!?
\\TAG: wesley!?\\WEARING: ---!?\\LYRICS: sympathy for the devil—rolling stones!?
\\NOTES: <333!?\\CREDIT: xosunflower@caution2.0?&&blank pages!?
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“...you had a chance.”

The words struck Wesley harder than any of the tortures to which the Senior Partners subjected him to whenever he did or said something that displeased him. The ghost turned his gaze down towards the ground, clenching his jaw and swallowing hard. He had a chance? That was so... completely unexpected, to put it mildly. Even before Lilah knocked on his door bringing him Dante's Inferno in place of a bribery to get his name on the dotted line on a contract with Wolfram and Hart, Wesley had been aware of the fact that the place where he was going to spend his afterlife had been decided the moment in which he betrayed the closest of his friends in such a horrible way. Honorable motives or not, treason remained treason. It was a fate which Wesley resigned himself to. He never made a desperate effort to commit good deeds in order to balance out the consequences of his betrayal towards Angel. As a matter of fact, he never really had too much time to do it. Once they joined Wolfram and Hart and a new set of memories was given to him in order to conceal Connor's existence, Wesley's good deeds had nothing to do with a wish to redeem himself – he never even knew that his soul needed to be cleansed of sins until the day when he broke the Orlon Window and the deep despair in which he was was already swimming left him empty of the energy which he would have needed for fighting the good fight to save himself.

Had those good deeds made a difference, regardless of the fact that Wesley did not know how much he needed to be forgiven for? Was Heaven really that forgiving? These were not the only questions that were on Wesley's mind at the moment but he chose not to give voice to any of them, reminding himself whom he was dealing with. Everything Lucifer said could be nothing more than a lie meant to entertain the Devil, including the statement that he had a chance. Nonetheless, Lucifer managed to make Wesley doubt something which he had taken for granted for years in a row and the effect it had on him was not a pleasant one at all. It was impossible not to think that, in case a miracle happened about Fred's soul and one to himself, allowing him to move on, they would still be separated for the reason that his actions past the day when was brought back as a ghost had lead to his damnation. ”Had”, he highlighted, his tone laced with bitterness. ”It makes no sense dwelling in what could have been.” If only he were capable of doing that. He dwelt too much into the past, into many “what ifs” - it was why he was so vulnerable and easy to exploit by the Senior Partners in the first place.

“I’m sure you don’t want me to concoct a list.”

His gaze back on Lucifer, Wesley saw the look on his face and the answer came out quickly, yet without a trace of fear in his own facial expression. ”I'd rather you didn't. I am not planning to find out how dangerous you can really be and in how many painful ways you could prove me wrong.” Should they manage to strike a deal tonight, Wesley was going to keep to his side of it until the very end. And Wesley realized that if he wanted Lucifer to be willing to strike any deals with him, he could not afford keeping information from him or giving half-truths. ”I am sure one of the names you are thinking of is Dean Winchester”, Wesley replied, his eyes remaining on Lucifer to see his reaction to the name. He was curious to see if it was anything like Dean's reaction when Lucifer became a topic of conversation – admittedly, without the nerdy movie references or the hunter's odd sense of humour.

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so if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and some taste
JUST CALL ME LUCIFER, ‘CAUSE I’M IN NEED OF SOME RESTRAINT
use all your well-learned politesse, or I’ll lay your soul to waste
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Lucifer wasn’t in the business about caring about where souls were headed. There was a constant cycle into Hell and he didn’t have to be involved to make that happen. The demons regulated. And whether or not Wesley would have been headed to either didn’t really matter to him. No one wanted to be in Hell. Not even demons wanted it, or Lucifer himself. Anyone would want out, if they could avoid it. And Heaven, well, not many could possibly know what that was like. Lucifer understood Heaven, it’s where he came from. He knew what humans saw when they went as well. It was a series of good memories, over and over again, typically. Hell was pure torture. And many of the souls down there were tortured until they were set with a pair of demon eyes and thrown back into the world again, if they managed to get out. Not all did. There were plenty of demons in Hell. But humans didn’t generally stay human forever; not in Hell. Because they all broke eventually. “Well, I don’t think Heaven appreciates making deals with me,” he explained with a casual shrug of his shoulders, as if he had ruined his chances just within the last several minutes. And while Lucifer agreed, he couldn’t help a small chuckle, amused in the cruelty of it, really. “But you’ll do it anyway. Humans always do.” Lucifer understood how people worked, what made them tick and he also knew where to lay the blows to cause them pain. At the same time, he was well aware of the self-hate and regret they could put themselves through. Right now, Lucifer was taking advantage of the ability to make someone consider that they weren’t so damned, not as they thought. And maybe he might have been, but worse had gone up and better had made their way down. It was all dependent on circumstance and the ones that made those decisions. Lucifer didn’t make them.

“Good choice.” Because, Lucifer knew plenty of ways that could potentially cause pain. He never understood why humans never thought that it could get a lot worse. It really could. No matter how low they sank or to what bottom they connected with, there was always room to carve out another crater and push them deeper. But, he really had no reason to. Hurting Wesley wasn’t a part of the plan. Lucifer didn’t have any need to wander around hurting and killing just because he could. If it was a threat, then definitely, if it had a means to an end, then yes, of course. He’d slaughtered an entire hotel full of gods for being in his way. Collateral damage didn’t bother him and he liked good old fashioned bloodshed and vengeance. But, he wasn’t going to waste his time. Killing fast was better when nothing else could be gained. Of course, the Winchesters crossed his mind. It was Sam that he needed and Sam that he wasn’t positive on the location. He could have been out, could have been stuck in Hell, or he may not be alive at all. There was a problem with this. In coming out of Hell, he knew very little about what came with him. The assumption was that Sam got out and probably his brother, although he had come across neither. “Of course, it would be one of the Winchesters, wouldn’t it?” He began, casually, as if it was half expected. Perhaps Dean thought he had bragging rights to the entire ordeal. He couldn’t guess why he spoke to a ghost or why he came up in conversation, but he wasn’t going to pry into those details, because he couldn’t care less about what Dean had to say. “I don’t suppose Sam Winchester came up in conversation, did he?” He inquired, since that was who he was most interested in. If there was Dean, usually Sam wasn’t too far behind. And if he knew his location or could get him his vessel (because he needed consent anyway), then perhaps he could see it in himself to help Wesley out. He needed his vessel. Eventually, Nick would burn up again and he’d have to find another temporary solution. Sam was the only one that could be permanent; he was the only one that could withhold his power. Lucifer had many vessels, under many different bloodlines, but his true one was Sam. It always had to be him. And he planned to get him back. Perhaps now, he’d have a little help in doing so. He couldn’t locate him if he was out there. If he was alive and on Earth, the sigils carved into his ribs would protect him. But, if Wesley knew the Winchesters, he could use it to his advantage.



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\\WORD COUNT: 803!?\\STATUS: done!?
\\TAG: wesley!?\\WEARING: ---!?\\LYRICS: sympathy for the devil—rolling stones!?
\\NOTES: <333!?\\CREDIT: xosunflower@caution2.0?&&blank pages!?
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“Well, I don’t think Heaven appreciates making deals with me”

”If Heaven does not appreciate it when a soul strikes a deal with you, perhaps it should consider giving one the miracle they need before they are left with this one last option”, Wesley replied, his tone bitter, laced with resentment against the God that stood somewhere above and allowed for far too many cruel things to happen to people that never deserved them. Of course, he was thinking about what happened to Fred, most of all. As far as his own persona was concerned, he might have deserved some form of punishment for the pain which he caused to Angel and to Connor and being stuck in this form, unable to move on because three demons willed it, was a very heavy punishment. What Wesley thought he did not deserved was a punishment this long. How much more did he have to suffer for the fact that his good intentions were turned against him? Was it not enough already? Wesley could not have good thoughts about a God that gave out punishments so cruel in their duration – if, indeed, he was the one that gave them – just like he could not tolerate the idea that the Powers That Be were allowing what was possibly their greatest enemy to use one of their former warriors in such way. Wesley was well beyond the point of caring that his ill thoughts about divinity might have any sort of consequences. He had enough proof that divinity, regardless of the form or the name, did not care for his soul, just like they did not care for Fred's.

The thought that he might have definitely sealed his fate by summoning Lucifer... Wesley was not even fully sure of how he felt about it. Yes, his initial reaction about it was one of frustration, of sadness, when he was faced with the what if's that instantly arose in his mind. Passing things through the filter of his feelings about divinity, however, Wesley had to wonder: was Heaven really a place where he wanted to spend his afterlife? To be completely honest with himself, neither Heaven nor Hell were but there was no other alternative, not unless he happened to get destroyed in the fires of the creation of an Old One – which was virtually impossible considering the fact that he lacked a body that might be of use to them. That would have been the most befitting end for himself, Wesleys thought. A cruelly perfect symmetry to what happened to the woman he truly believed to have been his soul mate. Lucifer's other words made Wesley frown at him. He was tempted to open his mouth and question the possibility that a being like him would have any form of understanding towards human nature. Then again, Wesley kept the temptation at bay because it was the sort of comment that could not sit too well with Lucifer. Any mistake could cost him the last chance he had at his contract being destroyed. ”I might”, he offered for a reply instead.

Contrary to Wesley's expectations, Lucifer's reaction to Dean's name had been very... casual. He had thought it would be more along the lines of Dean's reaction to Lucifer, one of annoyance, that hinted towards something grave that had happened between the two of them. Instead, Lucifer acted as if he was expecting Dean's name to come up into the conversation. It made Wesley wonder if the Devil was aware of the meeting between him and the hunter, just like he had been aware of the tiniest details of his memories about the Hyperion. What also surprised Wesley was the fact that Lucifer spoke of the Winchesters, in plural. So Lucifer was also familiar with the younger Winchester brother? ”Why was it so obvious?”, Wesley questioned, his tone hinting curiosity on his behalf. Were the Winchesters the key to earning what he wanted from Lucifer? ”No, he was not mentioned in the conversation”, Wesley replied. He was not lying, he was just giving a very precise answer. Sam had not been mentioned then but, subsequently, Wesley met him personally and found out that he was Dean's brother. For the time being, he withheld that information. ”Do you have a particular interest in Sam Winchester?”

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so if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and some taste
JUST CALL ME LUCIFER, ‘CAUSE I’M IN NEED OF SOME RESTRAINT
use all your well-learned politesse, or I’ll lay your soul to waste
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“Heaven is also not there to deal with every minute tragedy humans befall themselves with.” Lucifer replied, because to him, it was an utterly selfish request for a miracle. To allow those crawling cockroaches to live had been miracle enough. Surely, Heaven was capable of many things, but to clean up the mess that every creature walking on the planet created was hardly its business. As was his nature, he faulted Heaven for a lot. It had been his home once. He had fought alongside of his brothers and sisters, obeyed his father when his instructions made sense and things had been good once. They had been happy. But, that changed when the hairless apes were created and God demanded that they be bowed before. Heaven turned its back on him. He was damned because he stood against it, and found his brother on an opposite side, ready to banish him from Heaven at God’s will. He didn’t stop to question it, not in the least. And Michael was supposed to be the one that he could count on. Everything he learned, he learned from him. And he loved him, he still loved him, but he would kill him if he ever tried to take him out first. He would destroy anyone that stood in his way, because that was how it had to play out now. It wasn’t his fault. He gave an opening to join him again, to put water under the bridge so to speak. But, when humans complained about divine intervention, he couldn’t help but scoff. No one forced him into a deal with the Devil. He damned himself. And that was precisely how he saw it. Lucifer’s sympathy was low in supply, though it never ceased to surprise him how entitled humans seemed to sound, even after death, for this particular one.

He gave a small shrug of his shoulders, not believing for a second that he wouldn’t dwell. They all seemed to. Not that Lucifer could truly talk on matters of dwelling. He held deep-seeded grudges and anger that had lasted him throughout millennia. But his reasons were far from pathetic and he was far from human. “It’s really not a question, is it?” He reasoned that might was too mild, although at the same time, he hardly cared whether he did or not. Humans weren’t unpredictable to him. He knew them well. He may have been an archangel, but humanity was a race he understood far too well. Demons too, he knew because he created them. They were his. And humanity, he hated them because he knew them so closely. And Lucifer may have been in his cage, but he had not been shut off to knowledge about the world. And upon returning, it had taken little to nothing to catch up on anything that had surpassed him. Lucifer was not some creature with limited understanding. He was very old, powerful and filled with malice, but he wasn’t at all incompetent of the world and of the things that crawled on its face. Honestly, he knew more than he cared to sometimes. But, at the same time, he could use it to exploit them. Manipulation was something he understood extremely well. And humans made it so easy sometimes. It was hardly his fault for being so able to take advantage of it however he liked.

The Winchesters had a way of ruining plans, but Lucifer was hardly going to sit back and complain about it, especially not to a ghost. Sam Winchester was his vessel, hence not to be harmed. Whereas Dean—well, he wouldn’t mind seeing a slow, painful death accompany him. He nearly gave him one, would have felt every bone crack beneath his fists and Sam would have felt it too, but Sam stopped it all short, took over and managed to throw them both to the cage. Now, to hear that Dean had been talking wasn’t surprising. The moron had a mouth on him, one that he couldn’t seem to figure out when to shut. “Let’s just say, Dean Winchester isn’t known for his silence.” He replied, and anyone that spoke to him had to get that same impression, didn’t they? He was stupidly loud sometimes, said too much and wasn’t at all shy. Stupid, too. “Sam Winchester and I are due a little chat.” He explained casually, not about to tell him precisely what he needed him for. He might not lie, but he didn’t have to give him every detail either. “He has something that I need.” Now, that wasn’t untrue. It just so happened that he was what he needed and he did, in fact, need to have that little conversation with him, the one where he made damn sure that he consented all over again. Lucifer would have his true vessel yet again, regardless of what had happened the first time. He would win on this go-around. Of that, he was certain, because there was no other option. One failure was enough for him to make a change of plans and do it right this time around. And he would too. Lucifer was counted out of the game once and shoved back into the cage, but he didn’t plan for it to happen a second time around. Once was enough. And getting him back in that cage was difficult enough before, it would be worse now.



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\\WORD COUNT: 906!?\\STATUS: done!?
\\TAG: wesley!?\\WEARING: ---!?\\LYRICS: sympathy for the devil—rolling stones!?
\\NOTES: <333!?\\CREDIT: xosunflower@caution2.0?&&blank pages!?
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“Heaven is also not there to deal with every minute tragedy humans befall themselves with.”

”What is Heaven there for, then?”, Wesley questioned. ”Why did God made this world and the humans that inhabit it if it does not care about what the tragedies they live?” The world in which they lived in was one that hardly seemed created by someone that belonged to the side of good. It was a world filled with monsters that lurked in the darkness – ah no, that was suck an outdated thought. Certain types of monsters no longer lurked in the darkness; they admitted their existence to the general public and they mingled themselves among humans as if it was the most normal thing to do; they claimed to wish to live in peace and harmony with humans but who knows how many naïve individuals became their victims. Knowing how much evil there really was in the world, Wesley had never been a religious individual and had never believed in the existence of God and everything else that was associated with him in the religious texts. Now he found himself face to face with the ultimate proof of His existence – the fallen archangel Lucifer – and Wesley still found it hard to believe that a world such as this one had been created by God. It looked more like something that suited Lucifer's taste – better said, what Wesley thought to be Lucifer's taste, as he could not dare to presume that he knew how the Devil himself was thinking.

Wesley was well-aware that Lucifer was not the best person to whom he could have chosen to ask those two questions. It was easy to imagine that the Devil would have a grudge against the ones that banished him and that his point of view would be a very negative one. Nonetheless, it felt like it was the best point of view which he could be offered given his current state of mind. Wesley too held a grudge against divinity and even against mankind: against divinity for having allowed Illyria to come to be with such an unreasonably high price and against mankind for the fact that the ones that he had considered friends had, yet again, turned their back on him in a time in which he really needed a friendly word of encouragement. He did dwell on many things and he was going to dwell on tonight's encounter for many days to come. Wesley was not going to give Lucifer an affirmative answer, however. He did not wish to give Lucifer the satisfaction of knowing that the words he spoke had gotten to him, adding a little more to the weight which he had been carrying on his shoulders ever since Los Angeles had been sent to Hell and he had been pulled out of his eternal slumber. Lucifer could believe whatever he wanted to believe as long as he told him what price he needed to pay in order for him to break the contract that kept him bound to the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart.

It finally seemed that they had gotten close to the price being named. Wesley would have never imagined that meeting the Winchester brothers would have so many benefits for him. By knowing Dean, he had learned that Lucifer was real and had gotten the idea to summon him as a last resort to free himself. By meeting Sam, Wesley might actually be able to offer Lucifer something that was interesting him. ”Yes, I notice he doesn't shy out of a conversation with a perfect stranger, even when the stranger happens to be a ghost such as myself”, he said in reply to Lucifer's jab at the older of the Winchester brothers. For a random encounter such as theirs had been, it was surprising how much they have discussed but Wesley could not complain about the way in which that night went. He would not be here tonight if Dean would have more dismissive. As Lucifer proceeded to explain that Sam and him were due a chat, Wesley wondered if the rivalry between Sam and the Devil was stronger than the one that apparently existed between Dean and him. His brows furrowed as Lucifer continued. ”Something that you need...?”, he repeated, his tone a questioning one and indicating his hopes that Lucifer would give him more than that to work with. If Sam Winchester was in possession of a material item which Lucifer was after, such as an artifact, Wesley was not certain how much he could do to retrieve it, considering the fact that he lacked the ability to actually get his hands on something. ”Tell me what you need and I could try to retrieve it for you. Bear in mind, however, that if it is something material, you might have to help me help you.” Another step had been made and Wesley showed that he was ready to pay the price and take what Lucifer needed from Sam.

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so if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and some taste
JUST CALL ME LUCIFER, ‘CAUSE I’M IN NEED OF SOME RESTRAINT
use all your well-learned politesse, or I’ll lay your soul to waste
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Why did God do anything that he did? Lucifer didn’t have those answers. He could not read his Father’s mind although he thought that he would know him well. He could not say what he was thinking when he created humanity, except that he must have lost his sanity completely. He asked them to bow down to humans, to love them more than they loved Him and that was not something Lucifer could have done. He loved none above his Father, but it was God who ordered him to be cast out. It was God who created him, who created this plan and so wanted the devil to exist. “Heaven isn’t there for humanity. It was there before and it will be there after.” Heaven had its own problems and while it dealt in what happened on Earth and had its fill of humans that had passed on, it wasn’t there for them. At least, Lucifer would never believe that it was or admit that it was better with them. He loathed humanity and it was no secret and nothing that he sought to hide. “God has been gone for a very, very long time.” And no one knew where it was that he went to. He left. He had left before Lucifer was cast out of Heaven. And it wasn’t his fault. No one told him to do anything, no one made him go when he did. He was the one that sparked this war, even if Lucifer was the one that stood against his brothers when they refused to stand with him. He created him the way that he was, with a mind of his own to question and to stand up for himself. It wasn’t his fault that he was the way he was and had he never been cast out to begin with, perhaps things would have gone differently. But, instead, he was betrayed by his entire family and for that, there’d be Hell to pay, almost very literally.

Lucifer held the type of grudge that would never sleep. It built up over millennia after millennia of being locked in that cage. He was the one that was thrown out and banished into Hell, because of those abominations. But, he would rectify it. He would make sure that Heaven could hear the sound of their screams and destruction and then he’d go for Heaven. But, first, the world would have to be his. He wanted to restore it to what it once was. Lucifer didn’t want to see the world in destruction. It was so beautifully carved and filled with potential. The world was perfect, but humans were not worthy of it. They never had been. They had been destroying it; all six billion of them. Lucifer was going to make it right. Of course, they won’t like it, since it meant that all of them had to die, but he honestly didn’t care what they wanted. They were nothing to him; never had been. And monsters were expendable too. He really didn’t care about them, though he didn’t mind that they helped take out humanity. And just because he created demons didn’t mean he held any love for them either. Though, the most loyal had a definite advantage over others. But most, he used to serve his own purpose and didn’t care beyond that. Loyalty could be rewarded, and disloyalty was something that he came down hard upon. And it was why a certain demon who tried to take Hell for himself would have a slow, torturous death at his hands. If he was merciful enough to let him die eventually.

Lucifer nodded, leaving the subject of Dean at that. The man didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut when he should. He should have been dead by now and Lucifer hardly wanted to put up with him. He’d leave him a bloody, dying mess before he could blink. But, Sam, he needed. Sam was his vessel. He couldn’t remain in Nick forever. Eventually, Nick would burn from the inside out and be finished. He lasted him quite some time last time and he was pulling through better after he resurrected him, but he still had to deal with not being at his full strength. He needed Sam and he would have him. But, he wasn’t about to explain to Wesley precisely why he needed the younger Winchester. “Sam. No objects. I just need someone to lead me to him when the time’s right. I have a question for him and he has the answer. That’s all you need to know.” And that wasn’t a lie. He did have a question and Sam did have to say yes. So, he was being honest without saying too much. “Get close to him and lead him to me when I call for it. That’s all I ask.” It was a good deal, he thought. He was lucky enough to speak to him at all, let alone make a deal with the devil. He hardly went around making deals with just anyone. He didn’t really deal with that all. But, he gave Wesley the audience and was willing to help him break from Wolfram & Hart, just as long as he gave him what he wanted. If he failed, then he would have to suffer for it. It wasn’t just a matter of not doing what he wanted. When someone betrayed him, the punishment was harsh.



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\\WORD COUNT: 912!?\\STATUS: done!?
\\TAG: wesley!?\\WEARING: ---!?\\LYRICS: sympathy for the devil—rolling stones!?
\\NOTES: <333!?\\CREDIT: xosunflower@caution2.0?&&blank pages!?
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“Heaven isn’t there for humanity. It was there before and it will be there after.”

Wesley never imagined that Lucifer would tell him that Heaven was there for humanity exclusively. It seemed downright ridiculous to imagine that beings that held so much power existed for the sole purpose of watching over some small creatures that were not capable of seeing about their own lives without getting into trouble. The ghost could imagine that, in the grand scheme of things, the creation of mankind was only a small piece of the puzzle, that it existed for a certain reason that befitted other, bigger plans of God. ”I never imagined otherwise”, Wesley replied. ”What I want to understand is why was mankind created at all if God doesn't care about it.” As far as Wesley was aware from the biblical studies which he had been required to take at the Academy, God was supposed to care about its creations, ergo he was supposed to care about the fate of the humans that came to be because of his supreme will. Perhaps it was too much to expect that he would be concerned with the fate of every single individual on the planet but, as far as humanity as a whole was concerned, Wesley expected him to care.

He also expected Lucifer to be able to explain these aspects to him, even though he had been cast away from Heaven because of his distaste for this creation of his parent. Of course, there was no guarantee for the fact that the Devil would want to waste his time with philosophical discussions with a ghost. Wesley was not going to push his luck in case Lucifer was going to make it clear that he no longer wished to discuss this; the ghost was well aware of how fortunate he was that Lucifer answered his summons at all, so he had no plans in wasting a perfect opportunity to earn his freedom because he was curious to know the Devil's perspective on the creation of mankind and the purpose of its existence. Lucifer's next words, however, served to further intrigue Wesley. ”Gone? How can God be... gone?” There were many meanings which could be given to that one word and none of them seemed to fit into the context of a discussion about God. Then again, the absence of divinity seemed to be a perfect explanation for the condition of the world they currently lived in. ”How long has he been gone?” And, more importantly, a question which Wesley decided not to voice for the moment: why had no one tried to bring him back?

“Sam. No objects. I just need someone to lead me to him when the time’s right. I have a question for him and he has the answer. That’s all you need to know.”

Wesley was surprised when Lucifer explained what he needed him to do. It was all just... far too simple, in comparison to what the ghost expected that would be requested from him. He was almost convinced that he would be required to retrieve some kind of mystical artifact from the younger Winchester brother, hence his concern that it would be difficult for him to accomplish the task considering his incorporeal status. ”Is it really so simple? Taking you to Sam Winchester so you can ask him something?”, Wesley questioned. ”Getting close to him is all I need to do in order for you to break the contract that binds me to the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart?” He just had to insist with the questions and make sure that he had heard right, that his mind was not playing tricks on him with delusions of a very easy task. ”Is there a hidden catch to it?” Another question he simply had to ask, seeing how easy Lucifer made everything look. If getting close to Sam was all that Wesley was required to do, then he imagined that it should be a matter of weeks before he would be able to finally have the freedom he longed for.

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so if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and some taste
JUST CALL ME LUCIFER, ‘CAUSE I’M IN NEED OF SOME RESTRAINT
use all your well-learned politesse, or I’ll lay your soul to waste
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If you asked Lucifer, humanity should never have been created at all. He loathed its creation. If he could see them burn, he would have taken that. Lucifer was one of four angels who had seen and known his Father. But, he could not speak for him or to his reasoning. He had obviously cared, enough to tell angels to bow before them, to love them more. To Lucifer they were flawed beings, not worthy of love and absolutely worthy of nothing above God. His love and devotion was to his brothers, to his Father, not to these defective cockroaches. How he could have been the favourite, only to be cast out for thinking for himself and being precisely how he was created didn’t make sense. Instead it was a giant injustice. “Is this where I’m supposed to tell you about him working in mysterious ways?” He asked, a mockery hinted in his voice. “He gave you free will. Humans just happen to burn with it.” He replied, and didn’t answer whether or not God cared, because, he wasn’t going to say whether or not he did. Although, the obvious answer was that he had cared enough when he created them. He defended his earlier idea that humans did everything to themselves. They destroyed the planet, destroyed each other, because they were flawed and tragedy swarmed them like moths to flame. And most was brought on by their own actions. All action had consequence. Although all was also supposed to fit into God’s plan. Lucifer didn’t so much believe that it had to be that way. He thought that the pieces could be moved from the board and that the plan wasn’t foolproof and it wasn’t necessary. It was derailed now, for the most part. All guidelines uprooted and thrown to the wind. It should have happened sooner. And the instability it caused would make it easier for him.

He wasn’t here to speak philosophy with a ghost or to answer cosmic questions. He didn’t expect him to gain more answers from it, because Lucifer could give the same vague ones that were always given. Because, even he, the second archangel and once favourite didn’t understand his Father. “He left.” Lucifer replied, but he was already starting to grow weary of the history lesson. He didn’t know where He had gone and he didn’t blame himself for it. Because no one made the entity do anything. Especially not the likes of him. It wasn’t his fault. “You don’t honestly expect me to have all of these answers, do you?” He asked, as if it was a little outlandish for him to know everything. He didn’t. He wasn’t sure where God had gone, if he was truly gone or observant and careless. No one could read his Father nor speak to Him. Though there was definite question in him not being as far gone as he imagined, what with Castiel coming back after he had killed him and after Sam had managed to overpower and send both Lucifer and Michael into the pit. Perhaps he did interfere or perhaps it was something else. These weren’t questions he was going to busy himself mulling over. Worrying over his Father had never done him any good. He waved his hand, dismissively at the question and even shook his head. “The last I heard from God, he was ordering me cast out.” And consequently into Hell, once he had unleashed evil onto the world, creating demons out of humans. “Personally, I like to think He was ready to leave you all to your own devices from the start.” Lucifer was careful about wording it as an opinion. He prided himself on not needing to lie. And the truth was he didn’t have all of those answers for him and he wouldn’t be sharing if he did. So, he gave what he thought and it was close as he could deduce.

“That’s all there is.” Of course, the secret was in the question. Technically that was all that he needed Sam for. That and getting him to say yes, which he would cross that bridge when he reached it. Sam Winchester deserved worse than what he already had. He would break him down further, make it impossible to say no in the end. Sam Winchester would regret a thousand times over again ever trying to defeat him and winning for even a second to throw him back into the cage. “There’s no catch for you.” Now, Sam would get the worst part out of that entire deal. He thought that Wesley’s was relatively easy. But, he couldn’t locate Sam on his own and it worked to have someone there, someone to get close. Besides, the betrayal when Sam realised he wasn’t such a good friend would serve some amusement. “Just don’t disappoint me.” And if he did, it wouldn’t be as simple as just not breaking him from Wolfram & Hart. Lucifer didn’t reward betrayal that easily. Now, he wasn’t going to outright tell Wesley what he could do, but he was sure that the ghost could try to imagine the trouble that he would be in if he decided to work against him or simply didn’t do as he was told. Now, Lucifer wasn’t going to rest all of his cards on Wesley, of course not. Lucifer was smarter than that. But, he would use whatever resources that came to him. And right now, Wesley was a lucky resource.




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\\WORD COUNT: 920!?\\STATUS: done!?
\\TAG: wesley!?\\WEARING: ---!?\\LYRICS: sympathy for the devil—rolling stones!?
\\NOTES: <333!?\\CREDIT: xosunflower@caution2.0?&&blank pages!?
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“Is this where I’m supposed to tell you about him working in mysterious ways? He gave you free will. Humans just happen to burn with it.”

Wesley cocked a brow at Lucifer's answer to his curiosity. ”Frankly, I find that phrase to be far too stereotypical for you to use.” It was the type of phrase which Wesley associated with priests or overly-religious persons and Lucifer was, evidently, none of those. The ghost wasn't going to deny the truth behind the statement. He was convinced that God's ways were meant to be a mystery to humans, that their minds might be too small to wrap around something that big. That mean that he shouldn't be trying to understand them either but, then again, Wesley was not exactly a simple human being any more. He had died and he had been brought back. The Senior Partners made him feel like he was something below a human being, yet Wesley suspected that, in reality, he was above one and that he might be able to understand something as complex as God's ways and the intentions that had driven him to create something which he seemed to have no care for. ”True, he gave us free will”, Wesley conceded. ”I thought, however, that he had a certain purpose for humanity, regardless of the free will. I can't really imagine that humanity was merely created because God was bored or curious to see if it could successfully make something less perfect than heaven and angels.” Then again, that could very well be the reality. Was it supposed to make a difference to him? His soul was doomed and resentful towards divinity anyway.

He wasn't going to have Heaven and he didn't want it anyway. If Fred's soul had been burned in the fires of Illyria's creation, then Heaven wouldn't really be Heaven for Wesley anyway. Heaven could only be by her side and, since she was nowhere... What need did he have to be a in a place of calm and serenity and rest peacefully? Fred deserved eternal bliss more than he ever did and she didn't have it. Why would he? Apparently not even God wanted Heaven. ”Left?”, he repeated incredulously. Somehow he couldn't see the notions of God and leaving in the same sentence. Why would he go and, more importantly, where? If Lucifer was here, on Earth, walking inside a human shell (just like Illyria, his thoughts chimed in), was there a possibility that God did the same? That he descended to be among the beings he created? A rather laughable concept but, then again, lately nothing made sense any more. Hearing Lucifer's question, Wesley shrugged: ”Well, being who you are...” Truthfully, the ghost didn't imagine that Lucifer would really have answers to all of these questions but he thought that a little flattery might get him far with Lucifer, as long as it was somewhat subtle. Wesley let the comment about the last time Lucifer heard from his father brush right past him. It was a delicate issue and he didn't want to open a can of worms and endanger his chances of sealing the deal for saying something which Lucifer might not like too much. He didn't let the other comment slide, however: ”Someone should give an update to the church to stop telling everyone that God is watching then.”

That was all there was? Wesley started pacing slowly while he considered Lucifer's words. There was more. He was convinced that there had to be more if the Devil was willing to go against the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart and break his contract for the sake of getting to ask Sam Winchester a question. The ghost sighed softly to himself and shook his head. No catch for him or, at least, Lucifer claimed that there wouldn't be one. This was an unique opportunity, he shouldn't be overthinking its implications. Wesley couldn't afford questioning Lucifer for more details. He had to take what was given to him and to try his best to give him what he wanted. He stopped his pacing when he heard the Devil's not too subtle threat, turning his head to look at the seemingly normal man that was standing in the middle of the brilliantly crafted illusion. ”How would you define disappointment? Must I find him and earn his trust in a certain time frame or is that irrelevant as long as I do it?” It went without saying that one way to disappoint Lucifer was to tell Sam, his brother or his bosses about this deal. Wesley had no intention of telling anyone that he was so close to finding his freedom.

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so if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and some taste
JUST CALL ME LUCIFER, ‘CAUSE I’M IN NEED OF SOME RESTRAINT
use all your well-learned politesse, or I’ll lay your soul to waste
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“It’s fitting,” Lucifer gave a shrug. It didn’t matter if it was a stereotypical phrase, because there were no answers he could give him on the precise motives of his Father. He didn’t know them. He hadn’t been given any secrets on why he made the decisions that he did. Many of his decisions, he didn’t understand or agree with. The Morningstar had been cast out of Heaven for reasons that he didn’t believe ever fitted what his refusal to see humans as a creation to love above God. When he proved what humans were with the creation of the first demon, his point should have been taken, but instead he was cast into Hell for it. Everything from the creation of humanity and beyond the first war of Heaven, Lucifer didn’t pretend to know what God was thinking. He didn’t assume to know why he abandoned them except for being a selfish and absent Father. His anger towards him had grown extensively and with the plan for him to fight his brother, it hadn’t grown any less. God would have him killed by the very archangel that had raised him and taught him all that he knew. “I wouldn’t think too hard on it, if I were you,” Lucifer answered honestly. “For all we know, it’s nothing more than a game and he just likes to play with the pawns on the board. I suppose a game of celestial chess isn’t going to make you feel any better? More important?” No, it was probably a very small feeling. But, he made it clear that even he didn’t know the point of all of it. He questioned the point itself. It was what Lucifer had always done. He wasn’t the obedient soldier that followed God’s orders. He wouldn’t have been where he was now if that had ever been the case. “Does it make you feel better to think that God has a special plan for you?” There was almost a mockery in the question. “Because even if he did, it doesn’t mean its good.” There had been a plan for Lucifer and it was far from good.

Lucifer nodded. “Left.” He still didn’t elaborate on it, only confirmed it. Now, he didn’t know where God had gone. But, He couldn’t have been there. There was a question of whether or not he was still there—somewhere. Lucifer wasn’t going to claim to know, however. He refused to lie. There was less to be gained from lying and Lucifer didn’t have all the answers, no matter how much Wesley wanted to flatter him. “The church?” A chuckle came at that. “The church only thinks God is watching when they’re within the chapel. Outside of that...” He trailed off, but the tone of voice gave away his implication that the religious were often hypocritical when not on the church grounds. “Well, you’d be surprised.” And that wasn’t untrue, except that there were absolutely exceptions. Lucifer wasn’t about to get into human religion either. He understood it, knew it well and knew where they were wrong and where they were correct. Of course, the devout were still given Heaven, as long as they didn’t strike a deal with one of his first. “Or not. You don’t strike me as an optimist.” Who knew what he thought about the church? Of course, the church seemed absolutely oblivious to what was walking amongst them. To say that Lucifer was walking the Earth could send a lot of people into a panic. But, he wasn’t out to cause that. He wanted the human race to die, but he wasn’t going to do it with such a big bang.

When they were back around to the deal at hand, Lucifer paused, tapping a finger to his lips momentarily as he considered how he could define disappointment simply for the ghost. “If you betray me, change my mind or give the Winchesters any idea that we’ve spoken, you’ll understand what happens when I’m disappointed. Take your time. It’ll be months, at most. Just make sure you do it.” It shouldn’t be so hard. He didn’t think that he was being unfair in the least bit. He asked for very little to take on an establishment that could overpower him, due to its connections and intelligence. Though, he wasn’t all that intimidated at the idea of breaking Wesley’s contract. That would take a little effort, but it was nothing outside of the realm of possibility for him. “Is that uncomplicated enough for you?” He would hope that it was. It would help to have an extra pair of eyes on Sam. And even better when it came time to take him. Having his demons out for him wasn’t quite enough; he needed someone to trust a little more. And Wesley could fit that. While Lucifer could follow the proper channels to find out where Sam was, he couldn’t find him in an instant. He was hidden from him with those marks on his ribs. There was no finding him without someone leading the way.





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\\WORD COUNT: 856!?\\STATUS: done!?
\\TAG: wesley!?\\WEARING: ---!?\\LYRICS: sympathy for the devil—rolling stones!?
\\NOTES: <333!?\\CREDIT: xosunflower@caution2.0?&&blank pages!?
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As fitting as the phrase might have been, it made it no less weird to hear the Devil itself speaking of God and Heaven that way. Wesley found it natural that Lucifer would show understanding about the workings of Heaven, considering the fact that he had been an angel himself and, according to the legends, the one angel that was dearest to God. He supposed, however, that he expected the Devil to sound more... resentful about the topic, considering the fact that he had been banished from Heaven and, if he understood correctly from the conversation with Dean Winchester, he had been locked inside a cage. The topic over which Lucifer truly did sound resentful was humanity. From the tone of his voice, to the look in his eyes and the words that flowed from his lips, it was crystal clear that he loathed them as a creation of the father that had cast him away from Heaven.

”For all we know, it’s nothing more than a game and he just likes to play with the pawns on the board. I suppose a game of celestial chess isn’t going to make you feel any better? More important?”

More words that made the dislike apparent and Wesley was planning to be extremely cautious in his answer. The thought that everything could be a cosmic game of chess was not as intimidating as Lucifer might have hoped it to be. In fact, if it all were a cosmic game of chess, then that confirmed his theory that humanity was created to serve a certain purpose and not simply for God's amusement. Every piece on a chess board served a certain purpose and was important in its own way, even the pawns that were the first to move and the first to fall, in many of the game strategies that were ever designed. ”Quite frankly, it's not making me feel any better or any worse since I am no longer a part of humanity, as you can very well tell. Consider my questions the simple academic curiosities of a man that, until recently, refused to believe in the existence of the God described in the Bible”, Wesley explained. ”Looking at the world today, how could I possibly believe that God's plans for humanity are good?” Lucifer spoke the truth: God gave them free will and they were going to burn themselves with it, by making the wrong choices that would lead them closer to self-destruction. Wesley didn't think he was any better from this point of view: signing the contract with Wolfram and Hart, going to face Cyvus Vail with simple parlor tricks, as the more powerful warlocks described them, all of these actions had been a result of his free will, no matter how much, in his moments of anger, he liked to blame them on Angel and his attempts to save his son.

Lucifer was right once again when he amended his words and assumed that Wesley wouldn't be surprised about the things that were happening outside the walls of a church. Rumours constantly circulated and Wesley was aware of them. The difference between him and the religious fanatics, however, was that he was ready to believe that there was truth behind the rumours, instead of claiming that they were the work of unfaithful. ”I was raised and educated to be a realist”, Wesley answered. Since an early age he had been told that he was supposed to rely on reason and facts and, among the first lessons which he was taught at the Academy, was how to discern reality from magic. Optimism, in a certain way, was a form of magic created by one's mind, false hopes that rarely came to be and that only served to make you feel more miserable when they failed to become reality. Wesley couldn't see any reasons why he would ever become an optimist, when life had treated him the way it did and when even afterlife was torment.

He could not even say that he was optimistic about the deal which he was just striking with Lucifer, no matter how simple it appeared to be. Realistically, in spite of the simplicity, there were still chances that things could go wrong and that he would fail to bring Sam Winchester to Lucifer when he would be so required. The first obstacle he could think of, at the top of his head, was Sam leaving New York. Wesley was bound to the city and he couldn't imagine what excuse would be bought by Stephen Crowley to order that to be changed and allow him to follow the younger Winchester brother, should the need arise. ”I won't betray you. I will find Sam and deliver him to you.” He was too desperate to have his freedom to have second thoughts or moral issues about it. ”It is so uncomplicated that I can still not shake the feeling that there is more about it than it appears. Do we seal the deal?”

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so if you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, and some taste
JUST CALL ME LUCIFER, ‘CAUSE I’M IN NEED OF SOME RESTRAINT
use all your well-learned politesse, or I’ll lay your soul to waste
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While Lucifer was unhappy with God and presumed that he knew better for Heaven, his hatred had always been directed at humanity. They were the loathsome cockroaches that he would have liked nothing more than to finish off. And if he had his way, he would destroy all of them. He was angry and resentful towards Heaven, but it didn’t compare to the way that he looked at humanity. Their creation spurred this, after all. Of course, biding his time was an act of patience to keep himself from being taken out quickly by Heaven if he started a path of destruction. Not to mention, this vessel wasn’t going to last him forever. Eventually, it would burn up and he would be forced to find a new one. He hoped, before that happened, that the permanent vessel would be his yet again. There were a lot of creative ways to get rid of the problem that was humanity. Lucifer had his share of plans before and he still did. He would be able to pick it all up in due time and shape the world how he wanted it to be; without humanity spoiling it and tainting the planet. “Dead humans are still humans,” Lucifer replied with a bit of a shrug, a smirk touching his lips as if it was somehow an amusing fact. Well, that was a little debateable, given that the undead weren’t, but they weren’t as dead as a ghost either. Semantics, really. “Don’t worry, the bible is a little,” Lucifer paused and lifted a hand in a so-so gesture, making a face of dislike. “Anyway.” There was some truth to it, but more wrong than right when it came down to it. “Humans have turned the world into what it is,” he replied and while he was the last to follow any plan except for his own, he blamed humanity for all of their faults and flaws; all of their destruction of the planet and themselves. He could restore what once was and the bloodshed that came in between, well, he’d enjoy it completely.

“No doubt that accounts for where you are now,” Lucifer noted. Though, he never elaborated on his thoughts on that matter. Not for one moment did Lucifer think that Wesley’s own choices hadn’t brought him here. That was the human way. They made a series of decisions that pushed them into one direction and then when they didn’t like where they were, they complained about it. They were upset and tried to find any way possible to fix it. Humans were a desperate bunch. Of course, Michael would have probably claimed that it was all a part of a bigger plan; freewill that would lead them to the path that their Father wanted them in. In some respects, Heaven was able to manipulate and pull what they wanted together. Together, Heaven and Hell could manipulate for a bigger plan. Lucifer had been released from the cage through several acts that would seem independent, but in reality were all just the right moves. So, there was some truth to a greater plan. But, it was irrelevant now. If there were plans ready to come into play, they were going to be his. Though, what he did imagine was that a lack of hope and optimism could pull someone down dark path after dark path and wind up in a place of desperation that apparently led to deals with the devil. It was an interesting set of events. But not one he was explaining his thoughts on in the least bit. It was a wayward comment that he brushed past quickly.

Of course there was more to it. And Lucifer would be lying if he said there wasn’t, but it didn’t make it any of the ghost’s business what he wanted with Sam. He might be walking a moral tightrope right now, but he would have been completely out of the grey area and into something new if he told him every detail and he wasn’t ready to sacrifice that plan. Lucifer knew what to say and what to leave out. In doing so, no one could ever claim that he was a liar. Because, the truth was that he wasn’t. He could deceive and manipulate, but he could do so through the truth. He had too much pride to sink to the level of liars to get his way. “If there’s more to it, it’s between Sam and I; nothing that you have to worry about.” He replied and it was an honest answer. It was uncomplicated for Wesley, he thought. It would be Sam that had everything to lose in this case. And really, Sam deserved to lose anything and everything. If he had his way, that suffering of his wouldn’t have ended in the pit. “Would it make you more comfortable to shake on it?” Lucifer asked.


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\\WORD COUNT: 824!?\\STATUS: done!?
\\TAG: wesley!?\\WEARING: ---!?\\LYRICS: sympathy for the devil—rolling stones!?
\\NOTES: <333!?\\CREDIT: xosunflower@caution2.0?&&blank pages!?
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“Dead humans are still humans"

Was that statement entirely true, Wesley wondered? The obvious exception he could think of were the vampires: dead humans that, upon their return, were reanimated by demons that used their body for their own sick purposes, tainting their memory by doing everything in the exact opposite way than the human would have done it while they had been alive. Another exception he could think of were ghosts. He was mostly thinking about the ones that Dean Winchester described, that were so crazy and far gone that the only solution for them was burning their remains in order to give them a forced push into their afterlife. Mostly but not exclusively. Wesley also considered himself to be a fine example of a dead human that was no longer human. A puppet in the hands of Wolfram and Hart for so long, enraged and embittered against the ones that had turned their back on him the instant in which they laid eyes on his immaterial form, Wesley didn't think that there was any trace of humanity left in him. He was an echo of humanity, there were random moments in which he felt human but they were very few and far between. ”Not all the time, Lucifer”, he replied, hoping that this small contradiction would not aggravate the Devil. ”As far as I am concerned, I no longer feel human, in spite of what I was or what I still look like.” A question crossed Wesley's mind: did Lucifer still consider himself to be an angel, after having been cast away from Heaven, or did he consider himself the Devil, like he had been labeled. Hardly appropriate to ask such a question, unfortunately.

The comment about the Bible didn't surprise Wesley. ”I imagined so”, he commented. It was supposed to be the word of God but it was written by humans. Who was to say that it was not merely an instrument by which the church hoped to control the laymen? Wesley was not planning to be blasphemous in his thoughts – although he supposed that being an atheist was just as bad in the eyes of the divinity that was missing from Heaven – he was merely trying to be as realistic about the topic as he was about everything else in his life. As regards to Lucifer's statement about the humans turning the world into what it was today, Wesley supposed that he was right. The only ones that thought that humans were perfect being were themselves. The ghost of a man admitted that they had many flaws. ”We might have”, Wesley admitted. ”But God also allowed it to happen and I imagine he must have had a reason for it.” Maybe God's little experiment was creating humanity and then seeing how fast it could destroy itself or let other creatures destroy it.

“No doubt that accounts for where you are now”

Wesley lifted his hand a little and glanced at his seemingly normal hand, considering what had happened to him. Did it have to do with the fact that he was a realist? ”No, I think this has more to do with idealism – mine and someone else's.” That small hope that he would be at peace and maybe, just maybe, by Fred's side when everything would be over and darkness would fall upon him and swallow him whole – that had to do with the fact that he died. Him having joined Wolfram and Hart and signing away his soul, that had to do with Angel's idealism and his hopes that he could offer Connor a different future while earning them the opportunity to fight evil from the inside. Idealism was coming into play again this time. The price seemed to be quite simple to pay and there was hope that soon enough he would be free from the claws of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart. Shouldn't the realist have questioned everything far more, shown more reluctance to sealing the deal without knowing the full details of what he was getting himself and Sam Winchester into? Sadly, he could not afford being that realistic now, not when his despair to be free was so strong. It was an opportunity he could not let go to waste and if he had to jump into it blindly, with no details other than the name, then so be it. ”All right. I have all the information I need”, Wesley replied. ”I would shake on it but... I'm not quite sure if I would be successful.” He offered his hand to Lucifer to test the theory. He would have imagined that sealing a deal with the Devil required something more gruesome than a handshake, to be honest.