A/N Thank you so much cko!! You're right, I do owe you now. Thanks also to everyone at the Reaper DMV for putting up with me.

"Looks like your friends threw you one heck of a party, kiddo."

It was three AM and Sam, sitting at his kitchen table, didn't even look up at the Devil's arrival. The apartment was strewn with party favors and beer bottles. In the bedrooms, at least one couple was asleep together. In the other two, the occupants slept alone - although in the girl's case, she hadn't gone to bed that way. In the morning, the hangovers would create untold suffering. On the surface, Lucifer thought, the place came across as nothing short of a good time.

But he knew differently. "Of course, I would have added strippers and maybe a hooker or four. But at least you're happy, right?"

Still no answer. Not even a shift in movement. Sam stayed hunched miserably onto his arms, staring at a small spaghetti-covered package in front of him, obviously recovered from the trashcan. His disabled cell sat next to it. As usual lately, the boy looked like he had the world sitting on top of his shoulders.

"C'mon, Sammy. Where's the joy? It's a celebration of your creation! Big event, you know." The Devil grinned. "We're all still recovering from it."

"My birthday ended three hours ago," came the mumbled reply.

The Devil walked over and sat down at the table across from Sam. "You're right. I am a little late. But hey, at least I sent your gift on time."

Sam said nothing, but continued to stare at the greasy box.

The Devil sighed. "It's been three days, Sam. Call them already."

This finally evoked a more forceful response. Sam looked up angrily. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare start in like - "

But the Devil wasn't going to take it. "Start in like who, Sam? Kyle? The only phone call you bothered to answer today?" He glanced at the silenced phone. "And what did little brother say, hmm? Did he wish you that happy birthday you so desperately wanted to hear?"

Sam looked away, ashamed. "He was a little busy reminding me what an ungrateful, spoiled rotten, and completely selfish bastard I am."

The Devil chuckled. "Well, I can't exactly disagree with the spoiled part. And while a little harsh, he has a point about the rest."

Sam tried to keep his voice low in order to not wake anyone, but he still hissed. "Kyle doesn't understand. He has no idea what kind of liars they are! The secrets they keep! My whole life is a lie and they won't tell me why! Kyle thinks I'm only ruining Mom and Dad's big reunion from their trial separation. He doesn't know Dad left because he was dead! I watched him die!"

Sam looked away again before continuing. "And Mom knew all this time he was still alive." Hurt was written all over his features. Disheartened, he added, "And all you do is lie to me too."

The Devil took the opportunity to push forward the small box. "Maybe this will help then."

Sam made no move to pick it up. He looked like he was struggling to hold back tears.

"C'mon, sport. At least open it. It won't bite, I promise."

Sam finally gave in. He reached over and picked up the box. Opening it, the Devil saw a flash of surprise in the boy's eyes when he found the single card inside.

Good for one truthful answer.

"Then why won't you tell me the truth?"

Lucifer's cocky grin faltered. "Come again, Sammy?"

Sam angrily shook his head. "You're not going to tell me what I want to know. You'll never tell me why you wanted me. Why Dad is still alive," he hesitated, "or even if you're my real father. In fact, I'll bet you've already come up with some pat response that you think will 'answer' whatever you've figured out I'll ask without actually telling me anything."

"So my question is, why won't you tell me the truth?"

The Devil appraised him, and Sam thought maybe he saw a glimmer of respect there.

"Because Sam, your parents aren't the only ones who have to hold up their end of the deal." He held an expression that Sam could almost swear was regret. "I must abide by the terms of your contract too."

Sam gave a look of shock, but it was gone quickly. He'd never expected an honest answer - which was why the Devil hadn't worried about giving the gift. Sam never asked the obvious questions.

In an effort to maintain a grasp on his quickly fading anger, Sam muttered. "They didn't even send a present."

The Devil chuckled again. "And there's that selfishness Kyle was talking about." He leaned closer and put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Your presents are sitting on the dining room table at your parent's house. The argument over what would hurt you more - sending them or not - has continued nonstop over the last three days. Even as we speak, your mom is still sitting up by the phone, hoping you'll return her - what - thirteen calls today."

Affectionately tapping Sam on the nose, the Devil smiled. "Happy Belated Birthday, peanut."