The moment that changed Dean Winchester´s life forever occurred at a nameless place on a nameless road somewhere in Oregon.

Dean had been driving driven straight for hours, never actually bothering to check where he was – or where he was going. Towns passed by in a blur, obscure like their inhabitants who lived their normal and boring lives, completely unaware of the evil that lingered outside of their pretty, well-kept houses with their white fences and regulations on how high to grow the grass.

Dean could have been part their 'apple-pie' lives. He could have a mother- still alive, a father, who wasn't just an empty shell of his former self, a brother who wouldn't leave his family for some fancy lawyer university at the first opportunity.

But his chance at that life had been destroyed the moment a yellow-eyed demon had murdered their Mum, impaled her to the ceiling of Sammy´s nursery and set their house alight.

His father, seeing the love of his life burning on the ceiling, had lost himself. Gone was the man who told Dean about his adventures as a Marine, who would smile at him and explain every part of a car engine to a three-year old. Instead, he was replaced by a man who had to drink to keep the nightmares at bay. A man who searched out and ruthlessly destroyed anything non-human. A man who began teaching his two young sons shooting and hand-to-hand combat.

Nevertheless, Dean loved his dad. He had taken care of him and Sam, even though his world had been torn apart by the supernatural, and always watched out for them, making sure no monster would get to them.

If only Sam would see it that way.

The last fight had been the worst. Things were said that should have never seen the light of day. Sam and their dad, stood at opposite sides of the motel room they had been staying in, screaming and throwing insults at each other. Dean watched helplessly as his only remaining family tore each other apart and it made his heart bleed.

Because for Dean, family was everything and he couldn't comprehend how this could have happened, how he could have never seen it coming.

Sam had stormed out of the room, his father yelling at him to never dare come back, and Dean just sat there and staring at his shaking hands, trying to reign in the emotions that were about to overwhelm him.

Never show your emotions.

Emotions make you weak.

They allow the monsters to discover your weak points.

Showing emotions means showing weakness.

Dean could have screamed – at his father for not understanding, for being so controlling - at Sam for his stubbornness and his ingrained reflex to always question their dad and his orders. But he did neither. He just sat there, on the edge of his motel bed and when his father spoke to him he just answered with a 'Yes, sir', devoid of any emotions.

Because emotions were weakness.

Dean wasn't weak.

His father told him that it was about time they went their separate ways. Dean was old enough to hunt alone; they could cover more ground if they split up, meaning more leads on the yellow-eyed son of a bitch. Dean just nodded.

I cannot bear to be near you.

You just remind me of my failures.

Sam left. When will you do the same?

You failed.

His dad hadn't needed to say anything. Dean knew very well that his most important duty was to protect Sam – and he had failed the moment Sam walked out the door for an 'apple pie' life in California. No wonder his dad wanted to be as far away as possible from the son who had let him down.

When his father, too, had left, it was not only the motel room that was empty. The place in his soul where the warmth of his family had nestled was bare. Dean was not one of those New-Age hippies, believing in soul connections and shit like that, but he had never felt so alone in his whole life, not even in the aftermath of his mother's death.

He left the motel when the manager ushered him out and suddenly, the Impala was the only thing he had left. The only thing that hadn´t deserted him- Always faithful, always there to carry the Winchester family safe and sound from one place to another. He sat behind the steering wheel and drove away without looking back. He never did.

Driving allowed Dean to be free. When the Impala raced over the highways of the United States, there were no limits. He could go wherever he wanted. There were no boundaries, no rules. No teachers judging him for bad grades, deeming him a waste of taxpayers' money. No social workers who saw only the failure of society in him. No father demanding perfect performance in every situation, and no brother who constantly questioned him and his beliefs.

Just him and the purr of the Impala's engine.

When Dean returned his thoughts back to the street ahead, darkness had already settled in.

Dean hated nights with a passion rivalled only by his love for pies. Night was when monsters crept out of their holes to prey on the innocent; when little boys lost their mothers demons; when young girls were abducted by vampires, leaving behind only empty corpses and when shtrigas sucked out the life energy of children who, a few hours ago, had been playing football with their friends.

No, Dean was definitely no friend of nights.

So it shouldn't have surprised him when a man suddenly appeared in front of his car.

"Shit!" Dean cursed and stomped in the brakes.

With a loud screech, the Impala came to a halt, throwing Dean against the steering wheel. Hot pain seared through Dean's chest and it took a few seconds before everything stopped blurring in front of his eyes – nothing was broken, Dean realised as he moved stiffly, but his bruised ribs would be a pain in the ass the next few days.

However, that wasn´t his biggest concern. The man in the street – Dean had nearly run over him! Through the front window, Dean could see the man standing at the edge of the cone of light from his Impala an expression of disbelief and wonder on his face.

From what Dean could see in the poor light, the man seemed to be in his twenties. He was as tall as Dean and wore washed out jeans with a few holes in them. His t-shirt was dark green in color over which he wore a dark-colored shirt. The man had sandy-brown hair, rather unkempt, and a beard in the same color which graced his tired and haunted-looking face. His blue eyes still looked quite disbelieving at the Impala, as if he couldn't believe that he was still alive.

Dean took that as a cue to leave his car, but not without taking the silver knife, dosed in Holy Water, which he always had set aside in the Impala´s glove compartment. As fast as he could, he opened the driver's door and circled around the front of his car.

Dean stepped towards the man who still stood frozen where he had appeared on the street. He grabbed the man's arm and pressed the silver knife against his skin without drawing blood. When nothing happened he released a relieved breath. The man meanwhile still seemed too confused to even try to resist Dean.

"You okay?" Dean asked partly in order to distract the man and partly because he really did not look healthy. The man just looked at him. He didn't answer.

"Okay," Dean said, scratching at the back of his head. "You aren't one to talk, are you? Can I have at least a name, buddy? And maybe I should drive you home, you do look rather scared." The man seemed to understand Dean, for he answered the question.

"My name is Luc—" and without finishing his sentence, he collapsed.

AN: So this is a plot which haunted me for a long time while I worked at my other story. Reason is: There are many Dean/Castiel and Sam/Lucifer stories, but I have yet to read one with Dean/Lucifer. Bear in mind that I do not know if there will be any kind of romance in this story. Because, honestly, if you read what I consider romance you would probably commit suicide. Just ask my friends when we watch some romantic movies: I always point out how stupid the characters behave and what they do wrong and what they should do instead concerning their stupid love. It resulted in me banished from watching any romance ever again :D

Updates for this story will be very sporadic, for my main focus currently lays on my other story. I just had to write this one down, because it completely blocked my 'Well of Inspirations'.

If there isn't any impending Apocalypse or angels falling from Heaven, please take your time and leave a review, because the box where you should write it in just looks so empty when there is none