It’d been a while since Samandriel popped in on Abigail, but he figured it wouldn’t do any harm and actually might do her some good to see that he was learning how to be more himself again. So, with a great flutter of wings, he arrived sitting at the edge of her bed and spoke quietly, “I think I’m at least a little bit in love with a mostly if not entirely heterosexual vampire and I’m not remotely sure how to move forward with that knowledge.”
It was a testament to Abigail’s friendship with Samandriel that she didn’t shriek at him showing up at the foot of the bed that she and Hannibal shared. At least she was clothed? “Hello to you too, Samandriel. There’s vampires around?”
“Hm? Oh, yes. And demons and witches. Likely werewolves as well. I’m sure the OC has most of the full range of supernatural beings covered.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “Sorry, I knew he wasn’t home so I figured it’d be safe.”
“It is.” Abigail smiled at her friend, pulling the blanket to her chest. She’d been reading in bed, enjoying a lazy afternoon alone. But Samandriel was a bit more chatty than usual. “How’d you meet him?”
“The net,” Samandriel said, rolling his shoulders in a subtle stretch. “I made a post about the apocalypse and he and I got into a very interesting theological conversation about it.”
“Oh, no wonder you have a crush on him. You love his brain.” Abigail grinned, sitting up. She doubted very much that she and he would be friends at all if she wasn’t smart. “Is he cute too?”
“Abigail!” he said, turning a few different shades of pink. Some days, she knew him absolutely too well. “He’s...very conventionally attractive. Cheekbones like an...underwear model or something. I actually think he’s prettier than Dean which is saying something because Dean is a very pretty human being and oh god-” He shut his mouth tightly. He was getting babbly. He should stop that.
She couldn’t help laughing. “What? You wouldn’t say you thought you loved someone if they weren’t intellectually stimulating. If someone can’t keep up with you, you wouldn’t keep them around.” She leaned forward. “Wait, is he the guy with the blue eyes?”
“Blue grey, but yes. Very dark hair. Predatory smirk. Absolutely radiates confidence.” He drew one leg up to his chest, thinking about it all. “I think this is honestly the first non-angel I’ve actually been attracted to. Lucifer knows about it, of course, it’s just very new to me.”
“How’s Lucifer feel about it? Hannibal gets so jealous when I talk about other people that way.” Abigail couldn’t say she minded it, though; there was an odd sort of electric feeling Hannibal’s jealous inspired.
“You do know that I do occasionally share a bed with Castiel and his husband as well, right? Or just Castiel. Even when Lucifer isn’t around. He and I are secure enough in our relationship that he has no issue with me extending whatever love or pleasure I have to give to other people so long as he knows about it.” Samandriel shrugged. “It’s not like I’m going to be running away with anyone else. My heart’s belonged to Lucifer since the beginning of time. It’s more that love is not a finite resource...and when you’re a bit older, keeping up with a teenager’s newly discovered hormones gets understandably exhausting.”
“I knew you were physical with other people, but I didn’t know how Lucifer felt about you loving other people.” Abigail smiled, wrapping her arms around her legs. “You two are really romantic, you know. It’s like an angelic fairy tale.” She curled her toes as she grinned.
“I think that Lucifer would honestly rather have me be physical with people with whom I have an emotional connection than just any pretty face off the street.” He flopped out across the end of the bed sideways. “I’m not sure I see your definition of romance here.”
“You can’t get much more Shakespearean or Greek than Lucifer and an angel, Samandriel.” Abigail gave him a wry smile and moved closer to hug him.
“Those almost exclusively end in tragedy, I hope you know,” Samandriel said, frowning. “I’d rather this not be included. I’ve already died once. Twice.”
“There you go. Tragedy already had. Now you can focus on the good parts.” Abigail let her head rest on his shoulder. “So, what else do you and your Damon talk about, hmm?”
Samandriel shifted his arm behind her for a proper cuddle. “The ways our dreams are fucking us up. Him using me as a food source so that he doesn’t harm anyone once he actually requires blood. I don’t recall telling you his name,” Samandriel said, arching a brow at her. “Have you been cyberstalking everyone I speak to on the net or just him?”
“You mentioned his eyes, I mentioned ogling one of his icons on his posts. I’m not blind. Food source, huh. Is that what they’re calling it these days?” She wrapped her arms around Samandriel’s waist, beaming.
“That’s what I’m calling it to avoid getting too attached.” Samandriel closed his eyes.
“I think it might have already happened if you think you’re in love.” Abigail kissed his temple. “Does he have a girlfriend?”
“A little bit in love,” Samandriel corrected, “and to be fair, I’m a little bit in love with nearly anyone I decide is worth my time.” Which included Abigail, naturally. “He does. Hence the protecting myself. But...Abs, we’re already really intimate. It might not be sexual at the heart of it, but there’s a closeness there that usually only you, Lucifer and Castiel are privy to.” Samandriel pressed his forehead to her hair in quiet affection.
“I’m not entirely sure which of us is more protective of the other,” he whispered, and for as much as he was tired of being thought of as someone who needed protecting, that he didn’t mind Damon feeling that way was a huge statement in and of itself.
The flapping of wings brought them into the room that had been Abigail’s before she and Hannibal became a thing. “Sorry,” he whispered, having oriented them rightside up at the bed. “It just felt like your partner was staring at me even though he’s not even home.”
“You’re really intimate with Damon already? Has he fed from you?” Abigail smiled, threading her fingers with Samandriel’s. There were lots of ways that Samandriel needed to be protected, but none of them were physical. Most of them were emotional.
When they got into Abigail’s room, she laughed a little. “Yeah, he’s ... yeah. He wanted me to go out with you a while ago. I told him that you weren’t interested in girls.”
“Emotionally intimate, Abigail,” Samandriel corrected almost sarcastically. “He’s not feeding yet. He’s only part of the way to being a vampire. But really...really emotionally intimate. Which, I suppose, is something that just goes hand in hand with being a little bit in love with him.” He squeezed her hand gently. “I might be interested in girls. I’ve...never actually kissed one before. I mean I’ve been kissed, but it’s always been something that happened rather abruptly and ended the same way. I think it was mostly done to provoke a reaction and stopped happening because all it got was confusion in response.”
Abigail grinned. “Emotional intimacy, at least in my opinion, is a lot more ... raw than the physical stuff.” She was still leaning against her friend, who she loved, but had never wanted to be physical with anyway. There was something to be said for the sibling bond they had, the way he was an extension of her family. She wouldn’t want to risk it. “I technically am one? But I don’t understand teenage girls. At all.”
Samandriel played idly with her fingers. “I suppose when Lucifer and I go public, it’ll answer a lot of questions at school properly,” Samandriel said. “Assuming I get to actually go back to school. Some psych somewhere wrote a note excusing me from actually attending classes indefinitely. Apparently I’ve had a psychotic break due to some kind of peer induced or studying induced ptsd. At least that’s what I’ve been told by the administration. I’m sure it’s some...something covering up the monster that put you in the hospital.”
“You could always take your GED,” Abigail offered, neatly sidestepping the thing about her being in the hospital. She still didn’t blame Samandriel for it, but she didn’t know if he would ever really stop blaming himself. As such, she didn’t like to talk about it. “To hell with the kids at school. They don’t need to know anything about you.”
“I promised Lucifer that I would actually walk at graduation and since I’m in position to be giving speeches in June, I should do that properly.” Samandriel shrugged. “A GED doesn’t really go well with a perfect SAT score. It invites too many of the wrong kinds of questions.”
“That’s true. And you’re so close to graduating anyway.” Abigail just wished he could go back without having to deal with anyone else. She’d hated high school, but that was probably normal. “I’m glad you two are still doing well. I want to be in your wedding.”
“After winter break,” Samandriel said simply. “I’ll go back to school. Perhaps people will be just glad to see me sane or...whatever. Either way, I’m nearly positive I’ve reached the end of my dreaming so that shouldn’t be an issue anymore.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “And our wedding isn’t happening until after I graduate anyway. So you, my dear, are going to have to content yourself with maybe an engagement party, but not a graduation party. There’s too many parties to be had and I’m pretty sure we’re going to have to make some sort of official high society announcement or something. There’ll have to be classy photos and everything.”
He looked down at her form where they were stretched out. “Do you think him at the piano and me at the violin would photograph well?”
“I think that’d be beautiful,” Abigail smiled. “And I’m pretty sure that everyone knew you’d graduate high school anyway.” Abigail rolled her eyes, gently bumping his shoulder. “Genius that you are.”
She wished she were toward the end of her dreams, and she closed her eyes, trying not to think of her and Hannibal hiding a corpse. It mostly worked if she squinched her lids tight.
“Stop thinking about dead bodies,” Samandriel said, wrinkling his nose. “Or hiding them with your dad. What on earth is going on in your dreams now?”
“I ... “ Abigail laughed. “I killed this guy who threatened me, and Hannibal offered to hide the body with me. So we buried him in the woods. But in the dreams he barely knows me.” She would’ve apologized, but he knew she couldn’t help it.
Samandriel didn’t understand why they wouldn’t just call the police. It seemed like self-defense, but honestly he didn’t care. It was a very odd state of being to be in. “Mm,” he said thoughtfully. “Castiel killed me in cold blood in mine.” The words came out like he was asking her to remember to pick up milk.
Abigail sat up. She looked down at him, arching a brow. “Does he know?”
“I promised not to tell him his future,” Samandriel said. “He was being mind-controlled at the time, but...I doubt he’ll feel anything but awful when he gets there anyway. No matter that I forgave him the moment it happened.”
“And there’s really not a way you can prepare him for it anyway.” Abigail flopped back down. “You know my lips are sealed too.” She didn’t speak often with Castiel, but she wanted to make sure every base was covered. Dreams were not to be trifled with, she knew that much.
“Exactly. What would I say? Sorry, but when you get back from Purgatory, you come to rescue me from torture with Sam and Dean only to run me through with your the angel blade I don’t want in me. But really, it’s alright because Heaven would have just tortured me more anyway and it’s not like the Winchesters have a good track record for actually being able to protect people.” Samandriel kissed the top of her head.
“Heaven would’ve ... and I think my dreams are fucked up,” Abigail murmured. Sometimes she wondered why them - why were they out of all the people in their high school forced to dream these horrible things night after night? But that way madness creeped and lurked, and Abigail tried not to go there.
“It’s never been just us,” Samandriel said, nose against her hair.
“In our group of friends at school,” she murmured. “I’m a teenager, I should be self-centered for at least ten minutes a day.”
“Emma never talks about it,” he replied. “She doesn’t want to. She doesn’t even want to think about it, but sometimes she can’t stop. Neither does Beau, but out of embarrassment and not fear. I suppose I might feel the same way if I had very vivid dreams about being a horse, but to each their own.” He shifted to his side so he could face her properly. “More people than you think dream like this, Abs. We’re just...conditioned to regard things like this as taboo to talk about, as something we should hide away and get over, pretend never happened and move on. It’s just another visible symptom of how fucked up our society is.”
Abigail laughed out loud, closing her eyes. “I’m just glad that my dad died before he could dream of ... whatever the fuck he was in my dreams. I think it’s a different universe, you know.” One where maybe things were worse. Maybe they had a chance to have a better life.
“Most people do,” Samandriel said. “It gets a bit more complicated when you start taking things from the dreams into this life, but you knew that already.”
“Yeah. I just have to focus more on this life and let that one resolve itself. Hannibal seems to be taking care of me there too, so that helps.” She chuckled to herself, closing her eyes. Sometimes it was overwhelming and she just felt like taking a nap.
Samandriel reached up to press two fingers to her forehead, effectively rendering her unconscious. “Sleep sweet,” he whispered, using more than his fair share of influence to make sure that was the case.