If things could have been different, Lucifer wouldn’t have found Sam in his dreams. No, Lucifer would have found Sam when those meathead hunters were pushing him around and probably fractured one of his ribs. And Lucifer would have just strolled on in, casual as you please, and broken up the fight—but as a normal guy, and threatened to call the cops on the ‘thugs’.
He would have helped Lindsey up off the floor where the hunters dumped her when they ran, and he would have made sure she was okay; but his real focus would have been on Sam. And maybe his eyes would have flashed when “Keith” introduced himself, because Lucifer knows that name’s not true, the same way he knows that red substance isn’t some drug, as Sam is trying to tell Lindsey it is (the substance he was addicted to, and those guys were just thugs, they won’t be coming back). He can smell the demon blood and it makes him want to retch, even though he’s downing gallons of the shit, himself.
But Lucifer is careful. He helps “Keith” send Lindsey home, offers to stay behind and help clean up the mess left by the hunters; says he heard the fight as he was coming in, hoping to use a phone because his car totally junked out somewhere down the road.
And Sam believes him, because something about this guy feels safe; right, even. Even if there’s something in the back of his brain that itches when the guy introduces himself as “Nick”.
So they clean up, and Sam offers to give him a ride—but ‘Nick’ sort of shuffles and it’s awkward and kind of cute when he says he doesn’t know where he’s staying right now, that he just got in his car and drove without aim or purpose. And Sam doesn’t ask, but Nick tells him anyway; he’s just lost his whole family, and maybe he’s going a little bit crazy, and he’s laughing but he looks fierce—the way Dean did for the longest time after Dad died.
And something about the guy just seems so earnest and sad, but unlike most morose guys that wander into bars, this isn’t just normal melancholy. There’s a darkness around this guy that Sam feels down to his core, that he echoes. And even though he knows how stupid he just was with Ruby, knows that he should stay away from things that make the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand up, Sam can’t help it.
He tells Nick that he got a double—out of habit, he says, but doesn’t explain, and says that if he wants, the other bed is open. And Nick looks at him with the bluest eyes Sam’s ever seen and says, “Are you sure, Sam?”
And Sam doesn’t even notice the slip. He only feels the most thrilling shiver down his spine as he whispers, “Yes.”