He watched as the men he once called family lounged by the lake, not a care in the world… okay, so that wasn't completely true. But they definitely weren't caring about him. Near the bank of a sad looking lake sat two brothers completely oblivious to the fact that a third was watching them quietly from a safe distance. He supposed they were taking a holiday, you know, instead of looking for a way of freeing him. They didn't actually have to free him, he had done it himself, but it would have been nice if they had actually tried. He completely accepted that they had their own problems and they didn't actually know him very well, but the whole deal just seemed a tad unfair. Did it make him a bad person, feeling all this jealousy and hate? Maybe so, it wasn't their fault that he had gotten stuck there in the first place. A twinge of guilt gnawed at him and he considered announcing his escape for the gazillionth time.

"You've been kicked, bit, scratched, stabbed, possessed, killed...and you sprain your friggin' elbow?" said the shorter (yet still tall) one.

"Dude, it was more than a sprain. Alright? And it was a friggin' demon, but -"

"But what? That sling come with a slice of crybaby pie on the side? Please."

He smirked at their squabbling, but he always felt a bit of envy at their relationship as they started to talk about their feelings… again. Did brothers usually talk like this? He didn't think so.

As the two eventually decided to end their little holiday and go on another hunt, he wondered why the tall one, Sam, hadn't noticed when he had escaped. Maybe he had noticed, but forgotten. What was more baffling was why hadn't their little angel friend not noticed? He decided that he didn't really care, he was rather sick of angels. It was because of them that he ended up in this situation in the first place. Sighing a little bit, he concluded that it was mainly his own fault, and that he couldn't blame the angels despite their manipulative ways. As Sam's brother Dean drove his beloved Impala away he got into his own rather inconspicuous vehicle. As he stealthily followed the brothers he reflected that despite everything, he was still fairly lucky to still have his soul intact, unlike Sam. He guessed that the ginormous man was preferable for torturing, seeing as he was satan's vessel. Yet maybe, just maybe, the archangel that had caused him so much pain had somehow shielded him.

As the days went on, he continued his usual routine of following and observing, never stepping in to help no matter how bad the situation got. Hey, they hadn't stepped in to help him. How did he ever get to the point where he vigilantly stalked the people who refused to save him? It had been five years for God's sake. Five years and they still hadn't made an effort to free him. Yet he watched as the boys were on a rather amusing case where they found teenage girls making a play about them, based on the books that the prophet had written.

"Who's that?" Sam asked the technology girl, staring quizzically at a girl with a red wig on.

"Oh, that's Adam. John Winchester's other kid."

His ears perked up instantly as he marveled at the somewhat shocked and guilty faces.

"He's still trapped in the cage, in Hell. With Lucifer."

He snorted, almost blowing his cover. He swept his eyes over his half-brothers one last time, then exited as quickly as he could without giving himself away. Eventually he found himself in some forgotten nook and leaned against the wall, and he laughed. He laughed and laughed until his stomach was aching and tears were streaming down his face and after brushing himself off, Adam walked away with only one sentence playing through his mind:

little do they know...

THE END… MAYBE