Lucifer consumes the last of his brethren's grace before he feels Sam Winchester die.
He gets there in an instant, with three pairs of enormous charred wings, once beautiful, once merciful, once kind, and he doesn't think he's describing his wings any longer.
Sam's body is lying on the ground, eyes open and unseeing. Red covers his neck messily, with splatters stretching out from a ripped-open wound, lifeblood slowly drip, drip, dripping its way out.
Lucifer smirks as he looks down, examining his true vessel, wings lifting up smugly behind him.
"My, my, my. How the mighty have fallen," He snorts, unable to not gloat, unable to not feed his always-starving pride.
And Lucifer gets down on one knee, rests his arm on his leg, almost like kneeling, kneeling before one that should not have died today, and still stares, grinning, endlessly, not lifting a finger to help.
Well, not yet.
He can see the shards of flickering light in Sam's body, fragments that are always crying out in pain, pieces that are left behind with no one to collect.
There is no reaper for a man that never existed.
Lucifer reaches a hand out and rests it on top of Sam's chest, drumming his fingers repetitively. The glowing ball flinches and twists in fear. He rests his chin on his other palm.
"Sammy Winchester. You thought you could escape me forever? Leave me behind to die back in the bunker?"
His words are muffled when he talks, his hand pushing on his jaw. His fingers still play across Sam's chest, paying no mind to the ever-growing terror of the broken light inside.
"I mean, what'd you expect?" Lucifer laughs, the noise quickly turning into something menacing, something hateful.
His hand plunges into Sam's body, the long, sharpened claws of his true-form, digging like knives into the shivering, splintered soul.
And then they're gone.
Lucifer sighs and sits back, boredom quickly taking over. He came here to find his son, not to waste time torturing.
He can do that later.
Besides, any more of this and Sam might not agree to his deal. He might remember this. But with the little amount of agony he had been put through, he probably won't.
And so Lucifer lifts his hand up and snaps, and Sam Winchester wakes with a gasp.
His only reaper is the Devil.
And the Devil won't let him die.