Lucifer held the phone in his hand—an honest-to-God cellphone—as he lay in their bed (Their bed! When had he become so trusting? When had he finally stopped moving around to settle down? Sure it was just a shitty apartment but he hadn't lived in one place since he was a foolish teenager.) Its screen glowed at him, with an all-too-familiar number spread across it. He turned his head, looking at Sam.

"Do I have to? I haven't spoken to them in... forever."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You'll regret it if you don't." He pulled Lucifer close with a kiss to his temple. Let his hands wander over his chest piece. "Trust me. I know."

Sighing, Lucifer pressed the talk button and held his phone to his ear. It buzzed. He wondered if maybe they had gotten a different phone number. Perhaps they had moved or bought a new phone entirely or gotten rid of the landline and switched to iPods. But the voice that answered the phone was too familiar to be anyone else.

"Hello?" A female voice. Low and curious.

Lucifer's eyes squeezed shut. He couldn't do this, there was no way he could—

"Hello?" she repeated. "Who is this?"

His tongue flicked out as he wet his lips and breathed, "...Mom?"

Silence for several expanded seconds. Until finally, she spoke. "Nicholas?"

In that moment, Lucifer was glad of Sam's presence beside him, grounding him and tying him down. He felt like he was flying to pieces at a cellular level. Like he would crumble into ash if Sam didn't have one arm clamped firmly around his waist. He leaned into Sam.

"Hi, mom." He drew in a shaking breath. "Been a long time."

She sounded even more emotional than he felt. "Nicky, sweetie—" She didn't know what to say to her son so she fell silent.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"It was my fault."

His mother most definitely made a sound suspiciously like a sob, then. "It was a mistake, Nicky."

"No," He shook his head as though she could see him. "No, it was my fault. I convinced them to go out. I was driving. It was my fault."

He truly fell apart then, in Sam's arms. Felt like he had acid pouring out of him, and trembled as if frozen. But Sam's heat pressed into his skin and he leaned back against him and tried not to let his voice betray him. But that was, like many things, easier said than done.

"You're fine. Nicky, you don't need to apologize. We love you."

The next hour passed sluggishly and painfully, with words sliding back and forth through the phone—He spoke with his father for a small portion at the end, and that really sent him completely over the edge of what he could deal with. The firm but kind pattern of his father's voice made him wilt into the sheets, phone pushed tight against his ear, curled up with Sam wrapped around him.

He asked for his little brother's phone number.

They gave it to him and he hung up and took a long time to just breath, until his eyes dried.

"I hate you."

Sam kissed the back of his neck. "Shhh..." He ran his hand back through Lucifer's hair. Lucifer sighed and twisted around so they faced each other and shared air. He rotated the phone in his hands. With Sam's lips on his forehead, he dialed his brother's number. It rang once, before a man answered.

"Gabriel?"

"Yeah. Who the hell is this?"

Lucifer licked his lips. "It's Nick—"

Gabriel hung up.

Sam took the cellphone from Lucifer's fingers and set it on the nightstand. He rolled onto his back, pulling Lucifer along to lay on top of him, and rubbed his hand in soft circles against the dove bones inked into his back. Neither said a word. Instead, Sam hummed some love song from the radio until Lucifer's breathing grew slow and deep.

And finally he murmured, "Your name is Nick?"

Lucifer nodded.

Sam smiled. "I like that."

The phone buzzed where it lay, and when Lucifer folded it into his hands, the display read, "Baby brother." He answered with a softly nervous greeting.

On the other end, Gabriel said, "It's been twenty fucking years, Nicky."

Lucifer smiled, wiping at his eyes.

"I know."

(the end for real)