"Lucien! Wake up!" His mom's voice carried from the stairs below.
The nine-year-old's eyes fluttered open, momentarily confused before remembering - no school today, as he groaned and tried to sink deeper into his cushion and sleep more, but his mom continued to call him.
He annoyed, stretched, small fingers reaching toward the ceiling adorned with glow-in-the-dark stars, arranged in a way like the real stars, something he'd insisted on when Mom had helped him place them.
From downstairs came the familiar sounds of the coffee maker's gurgle and Adam's cartoons' laughter.
Lucien swung his feet to the floor, wincing as bare skin met cold wood.
"Lucien! I've called you five times by now! Pancakes are getting cold!" Kate's voice carried up the stairs.
The boy groaned as he rubbed his eyes with his hands, "Okay, okay! I'm awake! I'm coming down, just a minute!" He pulled on a worn Star Wars t-shirt, the Millennium Falcon faded from too many washes, and hurried downstairs.
The kitchen smelled of maple syrup and coffee. Adam, already seated at the table, had somehow managed to get syrup in his hair despite being seven - an age when he really shouldn't still have trouble with not doing that.
"There's my sleepyhead," Kate smiled, dark circles under her eyes betraying her night shift. She ruffled his hair as he passed, a gesture he pretended to dodge while secretly enjoying. "Big plans today?"
Lucien slid into his chair, eyeing the perfect stack of pancakes. "Can we finish the Star Wars movies? We still have the last one."
Adam bounced in his seat. "Yeah! I wanna see if Darth Vader gets the good guys!"
"Return of the Jedi is the best one," Lucien stated with authority despite never having seen it. Something about the title just felt right. "But we have chores first, right Mom?"
Kate raised an eyebrow, coffee mug paused halfway to her lips. "Sometimes you sound forty instead of nine, you know that?" She shook her head with a smile.
"Yes, chores first. I've got night shift again, so Mrs. Peterson will come over. And yes, you can watch Star Wars, but Adam needs to be in bed by eight."
"Has Dad called?" Adam asked, mouth full of pancake.
The kitchen fell quiet save for the ticking clock. Kate's smile tightened slightly.
"Not yet, sweetie. He's working. You know how busy he gets."
Lucien felt the familiar tightness in his chest whenever John Winchester was mentioned. Their father's visits were rare comets - brilliant, exciting, and gone too quickly, leaving only the darkness of absence behind.
He'd been supposed to visit this weekend.
"He'll call," Lucien said with certainty he didn't feel. "He always does eventually."
Kate's grateful glance didn't escape his notice. He'd become adept at stepping in when Adam asked the hard questions, giving his mother breathing room from having to explain.
"Can Tyler and Marcus come play today?" Lucien asked, changing the subject.
"As long as you stay in the yard where Mrs. Peterson can see you," Kate answered, already clearing dishes. "And Lucien-"
"I know, keep an eye on Adam."
She smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead. "My responsible boy."
-----------------------
By noon, the Milligan front yard was full of water balloons being thrown and Nerf weapons being used.
Tyler and Marcus from next door had brought reinforcements - Tyler's cousins visiting from Duluth - creating "an epic siege" that had the neighborhood ringing with battle cries.
"Adam, stay behind the tree!" Lucien called, noticing his brother wandering into the crossfire. With uncanny timing, he pulled Adam back just as a water balloon splashed where he would have been standing.
"How'd you know that was coming?" Adam asked, wide-eyed.
Lucien shrugged. "Just saw Tyler winding up."
The game continued until Kate called them in for lunch - sandwiches cut into triangles ("They taste better that way," she always insisted) and apple slices arranged like stars.
"Are you excited about the movie tonight?" Kate asked, wiping mayo from Adam's chin with practiced efficiency.
"Yeah! I wanna see the space battles!" Adam punched the air enthusiastically.
"I want to see if Luke saves his father," Lucien said quietly.
Kate tilted her head. "You mean from Darth Vader?"
"No, Anakin is his dad- that's who he gotta save. I want to see if Luke saves him from Palpatine. Luke's gotta want to right? No one should abandon their dad."
(And there it was, the passion towards family, that is almost an inherent trait in Winchesters.)
----------------------------
After lunch, while Adam napped - still needed at seven though he'd never admit it - Lucien helped Kate fold laundry, a task he found oddly satisfying.
"Mom," he asked suddenly, hands stilling on a half-folded towel, "Does..." before he stopped himself.
"Does what sweety?" his Mom asked curious and concerned at him falling so uncharachteristically silent.
'Does Dad love us? Are we a burden? Is that why Dad isn't around while other people's Dads are? You say it is because of work- but I know you're lying. I know Dad's lying. I can feel it you're all lying. But why are you lying? Why won't you just tell the truth?'
Is all he wanted to ask, but shook his head.
"Nevermind," he muttered as he continued.
-----------------------
The afternoon dissolved into evening. Dinner was pizza ordered from Tony's downtown - a rare treat that showed Kate's exhaustion more than anything else, since she preferred home made meals.
Mrs. Peterson arrived at six, her gray hair in its perpetual bun, smelling of peppermints and wearing the same cardigan she'd probably had since the 70s.
"Now you boys be good," Kate said, already in her nurse's scrubs. "I'll be home by three. Straight to bed after your movie, understand?"
"Yes, Mom," they chorused.
"I love you both." She kissed them each, lingering a moment longer than usual with Lucien. "Be good for Mrs. P."
The door closed behind her, and Mrs. Peterson settled into the recliner with her knitting. "One movie, then bed. Those are the rules."
"Yes, Mrs. Peterson," Lucien answered politely while Adam nodded vigorously.
They rewatched The Empire Strikes Back - more for Adam who didn't remember all that happened, Lucien deciding to oblige, despite wanting to see the final one.
But as the ever doting older brother he is- he didn't want Adam sad.
Mrs. Peterson dozed off halfway through, her knitting needles still in hand.
"Time for bed, boys," she announced when she startled awake at the credits. "We'll finish the trilogy another day."
"But Mom said we could watch them all!" Adam protested.
"She said one movie, and you've had it. Now scoot."
Lucien took Adam's hand before he could argue further. "Come on, we'll watch the last one tomorrow."
Upstairs, he helped Adam brush his teeth and tucked him in with his favorite triceratops plush.
"I wanted to see the end," Adam pouted.
"Tomorrow," Lucien promised. "It'll be worth the wait."
He waited in his own bed, listening to the house settle into night. Mrs. Peterson's soft snores drifted up the stairs - she always fell asleep on the couch despite insisting she never would.
The digital clock beside his bed flashed 10:37 when he finally slipped out from under his covers.
Adam was sound asleep, one arm flung dramatically across his pillow. Lucien closed his door quietly and crept downstairs, avoiding the third step that always creaked.
The living room was bathed in the blue glow of the TV's standby light, Mrs. Peterson gently snoring on the couch.
With practiced stealth, Lucien located the Return of the Jedi VHS tape on the shelf. He'd been waiting for this moment all week - the conclusion to the story that somehow felt important in ways he couldn't put into words.
(His instincts warning him- his life was about to change, forever.)
He inserted the tape into the VCR, turning the volume down to a whisper, and settled cross-legged on the floor.
The familiar opening crawl sent a thrill through him.
He watched through the entire movie with excitement, until finally came the moment that was the Emperor's death scene. Vader lifting Palpatine, sacrificing himself to save his son.
The redemption.
The return.
When the movie ended, he sat in the dark, the static of the finished tape a soft hiss in the background.
Standing in the dark living room, Lucien still full of childlike excitement, raised his hand, imagining the weight of a lightsaber.
He moved through the shadows - softly to not wake Mrs. Peterson up - recreating Luke's movements from the film as best as he could.
"I am a Jedi," he whispered, slashing at imaginary foes. "Like my father before me."
He spun, parried an invisible attack, and then-
Weight. Sudden, crushing weight pressed down on him from all sides. His legs buckled, sending him sprawling onto the carpet. The air felt thick, impossible to draw into his lungs.
'What's happening?' He tried to call out, but his voice wouldn't come. His fingers clawed at the carpet, trying to drag himself toward the couch, toward Mrs. Peterson, but his body wouldn't respond.
Then came the cold - a cold so intense it burned. It started in his chest and radiated outward, filling every cell with frozen fire.
Behind his eyes, images flashed - unfamiliar faces, places he'd never been, knowledge he couldn't possibly have.
'This isn't right. Thisisn't right. Thisisn'tright. This isn't me. But it is. It is me. Itismeitismeitisme. It HAS always been me.' the thoughts formed and shot through his head like rapid firing bullets as the pain became stronger.
He was burning from the inside out with ice instead of fire. His mouth opened in a silent scream as the pressure built inside his skull, as a invisible wave of power exploded from his supercharged soul.
--------------------
In the vast spaces between worlds, something shifted.
In Heaven's sterile corridors, the archangel Raphael paused mid-stride, head tilting as if listening to distant music.
"What was that?" a lesser angel asked.
"I don't know," Raphael answered, genuine confusion in the celestial voice. "Alert the garrisons. Something has... changed."
--------------------------
In a bar in Nebraska, yellow eyes gleamed suddenly in the darkness. The demon Azazel paused, glass halfway to his lips, a smile spreading across his face.
"Well, well," he murmured to himself. "That's new."
The crossroads demon across from him shifted nervously. "What is it?"
"Power," Azazel answered simply. "Raw, untapped power. And not one of ours. Not one of the feathers upstairs. Human." He drained his glass. "How interesting."
--------------------------
Deep in the forests of Vermont, a vampire nest froze in collective terror, their feeding interrupted by a wave of something in ways ancient and in other ways new washing over them.
Their ears ringing, like they heard a strong sound, but heard actually nothing.
"What was that?" the youngest asked, blood still dripping from her chin.
The nest leader shook his head slowly. "I don't know. But whatever it is, it's not meant for us. Hide. All of you, hide."
----------------------------
In the Milligan living room, Lucien finally found his voice. The scream tore from his throat, primal and agonized, as his soul reconfigured itself - memories of another life crashing into him, returning him to who he truly was.
The energy that had been continuing to explode outward in an invisible wave, rippling through reality itself, finally it finished.
(It had shielded him instinctively, Lucien's fear protecting him from being found out from where it came from.)
The Force was born.
Outside, the front door burst open seconds later, Kate still in her scrubs, face pale with panic- having heard as she was putting in the keys, her son's scream.
"Lucien!" She rushed to the small figure curled on the living room floor, Mrs. Peterson having moments ago been startled awake by the scream in confusion and her own fear and panic from the loud noise.
"Baby, what happened?"
But Lucien couldn't answer.
The world had gone dark around him, his mind falling into darkness from the trauma of remembering everything, and accidentally creating a fundemental piece of the universe.
The last thing he felt was his mother's arms lifting him, her tearful voice calling his name, and somewhere deep inside, a new awareness - the Force, flowing through him, through everything, waiting to be discovered.
From the bottom of the stairs, Adam watched with wide eyes, clutching his dinosaur, as his big brother lay limp in their mother's arms.
"Is he- is Lulu dead?" Adam whispered scared, tears beginning to fill his eyes.
"No, sweetie," Kate answered, medical training taking over as she checked Lucien's pulse. "He's alive. Call 911, Mrs. Peterson. Now!"
Kate herself also pulled out her phone, dialing to one specific number:
John Winchester.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all liked the chapter!
Do tell me how you found it.
Well, I've written this while sleep deprived- hope its good, I'll see you all hopefully later,
Bye!)