The first thing Lucifer heard was screaming. The most likely conclusion was that he was back in the Cage. He had lost his battle with Amara and had been sent flying back into the pit, surrounded once again by the sounds of tortured souls crying out in agony. Even as he thought it, something seemed wrong with that description of the screams he heard.

When Lucifer opened his eyes, he saw green blobs on a blue background. Surprising colors to see, because the Cage only had dark colors of red and black. And the cold flame of the Cage was nothing like the warmth that thrummed happily through his body.

The world wasn't naturally blurry, Lucifer decided.

It took him a surprisingly long time to come to that specific conclusion. Once he did, it took him several more minutes to come up with the solution of blinking rapidly to clear it.

Trees, his mind identified for him. And sunlight. He instinctively squinted against the brightness even though it was dull in his icy blue eyes. As the Morningstar, sunlight held no candle to his own radiance.

Gleaning all he could from his position on his back, Lucifer worked up the energy to pull himself into a sitting position. Spots danced before his eyes as a testament to how weak he was, his muscles screaming angrily to send the point home.

Growing more coherent with each second that passed, Lucifer looked around. Green grass glimmered in the sunlight, groomed trees dotting the field with patches of shade. A small distance away, several children played on a playground, screaming their heads off in pure joy.

Lucifer rolled his eyes and instantly regretted it when a piercing pain shot through his eyes and head. He groaned and was slightly surprised by the high pitch that emitted from Castiel's mouth. After years of the guy practically gargling marbles, his throat was unable to go a pitch above Rottweiler.

It soon became very clear as to just how deep in shit Lucifer was when he stood up and barely managed to clear five feet. A cursory glance at his body revealed a faux leather jacket, ripped jeans, and cheap biker boots. And a body that was clearly several years younger than the meatsuit Castiel had inhabited.

"Fuck." Lucifer said in his strange new voice that barely cleared puberty.

"What did I just hear out of your mouth, Jensen!" A ghastly woman screeched practically into his ear with the sole purpose of blowing out the drums. Despite himself, he found himself jumping several feet into the air to avoid her, backing up to see an old hag around seventy glaring at him like she'd just caught him stealing the Eiffel tower (which Lucifer knew rather well. Back in his apocalypse days, he had considered blowing it up. Those were the good old days.) or something.

His gaze traveled downward to make eye contact with a Yorkie who's scowl could set any other person on fire. Lucifer considered making a regimen change downstairs and replacing the Hellhounds with little dogs. Sparkles, as Lucifer deduced from the name-tag, could take Cerberus's spot as top of the food-chain.

"Young man, are you listening to me?" The old lady reprimanded, and Lucifer was strangely abashed to meet her condemning gaze. Yeah, that fight with Amara had definitely blown his brains out of wack. What the actual hell?

"Um..." Did his voice just crack? Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckberries! "Yes... ma'am."

"A boy your age has no business spouting such foul language. Why, if I were your mother-" Thank Dad she's not "-I would be washing your mouth out with a bar of soap. And in the midst of children too! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Lucifer wanted to laugh. The way she said it made it sound like he disobeyed God and fell from Heaven. Oh wait...

She was still talking, and now the damn Yorkie Sparkles was yipping at him, and as amusing as the woman was, Lucifer was bored. And when the Devil gets bored, there'll be Hell to pay. Half of him laughed at the pun while the other cringed and promised never to say it again, not even in his head , before lifting his hand and snapping loudly. It cut the woman off and the resounding crack made Lucifer relish in his power. He needed a bit of an ego lift after the Amara fiasco.

The he was once again staring up at the blue sky, his blinks slowly chasing the blackness from his vision. The lady appeared in his view and he scowled up at her. Didn't I just kill you?

"Jensen! Are you okay? What happened? Do you need a doctor?"

The dog was licking his face, Lucifer realized slowly. He once again managed to sit up. She immediately got right in his face again, but he was too stunned to push her away. Probing at his Hell-blackened Grace, he discovered it was in ruins. He laughed hysterically at the irony that he was practically as weak as Castiel now.

Castiel. If Lucifer had retreated to this body after his showdown with Amara, did that mean that Castiel was destroyed? Blown to bits- again? He supposed it didn't really matter, but he still felt a twinge of sorrow. Despite appearances, Lucifer still cared for all of his family. Not as much as he did Michael and Gabriel, but...

Dammit.

Eventually, "Jensen" managed to wave away the old lady and stumble out of the park.

What the hell kind of name is Jensen anyway?

More importantly, Lucifer needed to come up with a plan of action. He was weakened and needed to get back to Hell to recuperate before finding a new, more suitable body than a sixteen-year-old teenager with a biker complex.

"Well, shit in a handbasket." A man's voice came from behind Lucifer as he walked along, too absorbed in his thoughts to notice the demons he was passing until they called attention to themselves. Lucifer feigned nonchalance and glanced over his shoulder with a scowl worthy of Sparkles the Yorkie. Secretly, he was elated at his chance luck of finding the scum dicking around and wandering the streets rather than actually at their posts and doing what he told them to (whatever the hell that was). He could make these three idiots take him back to Hell so he could recuperate, and then punish them for disobeying orders.

"What's the luck of stumbling on Lucifer out on the streets, after only five minutes of searchin'?

"Crowley's gonna have a hayday with this."

Ah fuck.

The first demon to speak lunged forward and wrapped his meaty hand around Lucifer's arm, throwing him hard against the brick wall of some very UN-Convenience Store. Lucifer saw stars when his head smacked against it and realized just how screwed up his grace was. He was practically human. The demons swarmed him with sharp kicks as he slumped to the ground in a daze.

"OK, enough." Lucifer ground out, throwing his hand towards one of the demons and pushing hard with his grace. He couldn't smite at the moment, but that didn't mean he was defenseless. The demon went flying and its head cracked satisfyingly against a pole. The remaining two demons hesitated as they were reminded who they were dealing with.

They lunged, Lucifer pushed one away, but found himself unable to do it to the last one. The demon slammed Lucifer against the wall, his large hand wrapped around Lucifer's delicate neck, and the archangel panicked. He slammed his hand against his attacker's forehead and threw all his energy into burning the demon out. With a flare of bright light, the demon's pressure on Lucifer's neck faded. The fallen angel felt a small moment of relief and pride before he was immediately plagued by horrible dizziness. A loud ringing filled his ears and the world went dark.

The ringing faded off before Lucifer's vision came back. As his hearing became clearer, a man's chanting could be heard. Lucifer identified it as Latin, which meant exorcism. The sounds of struggle faded, but his 'saviors' (shit, that sounded awful) didn't approach him. Lucifer managed to raise his head from his cheap biker boots to see mirrored cheap biker boots on the other man. He got a bad feeling as his eyes traveled up further up the man to reveal faded jeans, what looked like ten layers of shirts including flannel, before finally meeting the hazel eyes of fucking Dean Winchester.

"Look Dean, it's a mini you." A snort was the only reply.

"Oh thank Dad, it's the Winchesters." The words slipped out of Lucifer's mouth before he had the chance to think them over.

"Yeah? And which one are you? Stinky, Smelly, or Farty?" Dean asked, raising his angel blade level to Lucifer's chest.

He opened his mouth the quip about forgetting him like their relationship hadn't been more than a one-night stand, but stopped himself. The pig sticker in Dean's hands would probably kill the weakened archangel at present. Lucifer was too weak to fly away or defend himself after that move with the demons.

Not to mention, the king of Hell was being hunted by rebellious minions that joined up with Lucifer's favorite pet to usurp him. He had no way of contacting his minions without giving away his position to Crowley as well, at least not until he was a bit stronger. And if someone needed to hide out from demons, the Winchesters were as good a way to go as any.

"Shachar." (A/N: pronounced- Sha-khar)

"Never heard of you."

Lucifer scowled. If the Winchesters looked too deeply into that name, they would be able to tell he was bullshitting them. "You do realize there are thousands of angels, right? Not all of them are as well known as your pet Castiel."

"That's probably because Cas is more of a badass than you could ever be." Dean defended Castiel almost immediately and Lucifer couldn't help but burst out laughing, clutching the stitch in his side as he bent over double but unable to stop. The situation was obviously getting to him or something, because while the irony of that statement was funny, it didn't prompt this manic laughter that Lucifer couldn't control.

"Okay, enough." Sam interrupted after Lucifer had somewhat composed himself. "Why were those demons attacking you?"

"Why do demons generally attack angels?" Lucifer asked dryly.

"Well, I'm starting to understand why they would attack you." Dean commented, annoyance twisting his features.

"Lucifer. He attacked me after I refused to join him. I was injured pretty badly, but managed to get away. He sent his demons after me to finish the job."

"Lucifer..." Dean and Sam exchanged glances.

"Will he come for you again?" Sam asked.

"Yes."

"Well, Shachar. How about you come with us, and we keep you safe from big bad Lucifer?"

"Gladly."

"So, Shachar, who's that poor kid that you're possessing?" Dean tapped his hands against the steering wheel quietly as he drove back to the bunker. Jensen sprawled out in the back of the car, his socked feet smudging window with sweat after he removed the uncomfortable boots. His hands were cushioning his head as he stared up at the top of the car. Well, through it. As he saw the sky, he could almost imagine Heaven as it had been thousands of years ago.

"Relax. He's temporary. 'Jensen' here will be free and clear as soon as I track down my previous vessel." Lucifer gestured to the air as he spoke, shifting restlessly in the confines of the car.

"And if he says no? If Lucifer didn't just blow him to smithereens, that poor son of a bitch is probably ecstatic for getting rid of you."

Lucifer grinned devilishly. "Oh, I sincerely doubt that, Dean. In fact, if he is not blown to smithereens as you so elegantly put it, I think he will be looking for me right now. See, we have a deal, or some semblance of it at least."

"Bet he had no idea what he was getting into. An angel deal is just as bad as a demon deal."

Lucifer rolled his eyes and looked out the window.

"So. What's the deal anyways?"

Lucifer made eye contact with Sam through the passenger side mirror. "I'm going to kill someone for him. And now, it's personal." The dangerous glint in his eye made Sam break eye contact quickly.

Three weeks.

Three damn weeks of Winchester self-loathing and mini-Dean jokes.

It was a freaking miracle that Lucifer had managed to last that long without killing someone. Though that wasn't to say that he was an innocent angel (pun intended) for the three weeks.

He had had a great time dealing with the teenage hormones of his horny teenager vessel with the best possible outlet. Immature pranking and disobeying rules like a brat. It was about time he got to express his frustrations towards humanity, the Winchesters especially.

"Um, Dean, I think you have a little something." Lucifer gestured around the general area of the hunter's head with a completely baffled expression. Glitter coated the hunter's head and Lucifer couldn't keep in his snickers.

"That's it. I've warned you. It's not my fault your winged ass didn't listen. Screw keeping you safe, you're going to die." Dean rounded on the angel with an angel blade on hand (where the hell did he keep that when he was wearing only a robe and t-shirt?).

"Waitwaitwait." Lucifer held his hands up to ward off the angel blade as his eyes blurred from tears. "It wasn't me. It wasn't me this time, I promise."

"Then why the hell are you laughing?" Dean growled.

"Cause whoever did is a freaking genius." Lucifer choked out, already knowing who did. Only three people resided in the bunker at the moment.

"SAM!" Dean screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing throughout the entire bunker. The younger Winchester scuttled up with a kicked puppy look on his face, already knowing what Dean's anger was about.

"Look, Dean, in my defense, I was trying to get Shachar."

"Well you missed."

"Now that hurt my feelings Sam. What have I ever done to you?"

"The rotten eggs in my shampoo."

"I heard it's good for you." Lucifer shrugged.

"Daddy didn't like you very much, did he?" Dean snapped. Anger controlled his words rather than logic, and he didn't realized what he had said until it was too late.

Lucifer was frozen in his spot, looking at the far wall with a faraway look in his eyes.

"Shit man, I didn't mean that." Dean rested a hand on Lucifer's shoulder in apology.

His ice blue eyes snapped up to Dean's with rage burning in them. "Remove your arm, or I will beat you to death with it." He told Dean with a false calm barely holding back a tidal wave of Daddy issues and anger towards that specific person in front of him. Dean's hand snapped back to his side as if he was burned.

There was a deadly silence permeating the air until Sam shifted restlessly, unable to handle the bloodlust for any longer, and pointed towards the door. "I have to go... iron... my cat." He scuttled out of the door like Hellhounds were on his ass.

"Look, it was a joke. All angels have Daddy issues. You aren't the only one. Cas handled stuff like this without batting an eyelash. I didn't think it would affect you so bad."

"Screw you. Your little seraph knew nothing about God." Lucifer turned on his heel and stalked towards the garage to hot wire a car. He was almost entirely healed, but he didn't want to test his ruined wings just yet.

"Where are you going?" Dean followed as Lucifer slipped on the motorcycle that had apparently belonged to someone named Dorothy at some point.

"I'm either going out for ice-cream, to slaughter a couple hundred demons, or to commit a heinous crime. I'll decide on my way there." Lucifer slid the key into the slot and turned. The motorbike coughed and Lucifer cursed.

"...Want a ride?" Dean asked hesitantly, gesturing to the Impala with a chagrined expression.

Lucifer sighed and slid into the passenger side of Dean's precious car. Dean started up the car and drove out of the garage without another word for almost thirty minutes.

"So... you knew God? Did you talk to him like that one guy Joshua?" Dean finally asked.

Lucifer sighed. He didn't get to mess with Sam one more time before he left, but it was time. "God personally raised me, Winchester. Of course I have more Daddy issues than poor exploded Castiel. That's kinda what happens when your father throws you into Hell for a simple rebellion."

It was almost comical how Dean's head slowly turned to look at Lucifer with a terrified expression. "Lucifer." The hunter managed to spit out.

"Got it in one. Congratulations."

"Then... all that bullshit about Lucifer attacking you..."

"It wasn't entirely bullshit Dean. I was injured. From that damn fight with Amara. And I wasn't lying when I said Castiel is probably exploded in a warehouse right now, or her prisoner, who knows."

"The demons..."

"Crowley's. He's going to pay for that dearly."

"I trusted you."

"Well then you can't exactly blame me, can you? It was your mistake."

A/N: The name Shachar (Sha-khar) is from Helel Ben Shachar, which is used in the Book of Isaiah meaning "shining one", "son of morning". According to Wikipedia, it could be seen as a reference to Lucifer. I figured that Lucifer was prideful enough where he wouldn't take the name of just any angel, he would take his own, just one that the Winchesters didn't recognize. Anyway, it made it funner to write too.

This was a one-shot assigned to me by Carvcr Edlund a few weeks back. Now, this is my first one-shot, and I suck at commitment, so it took FOREVER, but it's finally out. Happy face. Hope you all enjoyed it, please check out my other 2 Supernatural fics real quick, and Carvcr Edlund's fic if you want a taste of more amazing Lucifer.

Y'all have a good day now.