Disclaimer: Still don't own Supernatural or the sassy Lucifer. *sigh*

Sorry for the short chapter, but I just HAD to end it where I did.

This chapter is during Sam's visit in Hell.

Sam sighed. It was so good to be back in the motel room, lying on the motel bed. Dean had picked a nicer room this time since it was Sam's birthday, and, boy, were these beds nice.

The shower turned off, and Dean walked out of the bathroom, towel around his waist. "Your turn Sammy."

Sam had didn't have a problem with Dean calling him Sammy anymore, but something about the way he said it made Sam's skin crawl. Sitting up in bed, Sam figured all he needed was a hot shower, clean off the gunk.

As Sam walked into the bathroom, Dean called, "Good luck getting any hot water."

Sam shut the bathroom door and turned the shower on. He undressed quickly and hopped under the burning spray. Sam stood in the shower, the water cascading down his shoulders, and considered the most recent events.

Something felt off about how Dean said his nickname, like it was said without love or something, but that was stupid and really cheesy. Then there was the quip about the hot water. Dean's showers take five minutes, tops. Maybe Sam was being paranoid, or maybe Dean just wanted Sam out of the room so he could prepare a birthday surprise. But when did Dean do anything more than buy Sam a corndog for his birthday...

A loud pounding on the door brought Sam from his thoughts. "C'mon princess, you shouldn't waste the day in there!"

Sam pushed the doubts from his mind and quickly cleaned himself. Six minutes later he was dressed, hair dried and shoes tied.

Dean sat on the bed closest to the windows, a present in hand.

'That's odd.' Sam thought. 'Why is Dean sitting on my bed?'

Sam sits on Dean's bed, the one closest to the door, and stares at his brother. He looked like Dean, sounded like Dean, hell, he even smelled like Dean. Sam decided he was paranoid and cocked an eyebrow at his brother.

"So, what's the box for?"

Dean grinned, and, for a second, it seemed almost evil. "It's your present, Sammy." Again, it didn't sound right.

Sam's heart started to pound loudly in his ears. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

He swallowed and tried to remain calm. "Dean, you didn't have to."

Dean (was it really Dean?) handed the box over to Sam. "Of course I did Sammy. We had a bit of spare cash and I decided to spend it on you."

That wasn't Dean. They NEVER had spare cash. EVER.

Sam threw the box down. "What have you done to Dean?!"

Not-Dean looked angry. "What the Hell did I mess up this time?"

Sam was confused. "This time?"

Sam sighed. It was so good to be back in the motel room, lying on the motel bed. Dean had picked a nicer room this time since it was Sam's birthday, and, boy, were these beds nice.

Dean walked into the motel room, bags of fast food in hand. "Happy birthday Sammy! I got chicken, grilled for your healthy ass, greasy fries, everybody loves fries, aaannnnnddddddd... PIE!"

Sam had didn't have a problem with Dean calling him Sammy anymore, but something about the way he said it made Sam's skin crawl. As Dean placed the food on the table, Sam shrugged and walked over.

"Pie, huh? And, is that for me, or for you?" Sam raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Hey, just because it's your birthday doesn't mean I have to suffer." Dean shot back playfully. "Eat up."

After dinner, Dean reached under the table and pulled out a box held together with duct tape. "Happy Birthday Sammy."

Again, the way Dean said Sammy was weird, but Sam just brushed it off. Pulling out his pocket knife, Sam cut the duct tape and pulled the lid off the box. He threw the box onto the floor, gagging at the contents.

Inside the box was the dismembered head of his brother. It opened its eyes and shouted, "Happy birthday Sammy!"

"APRIL FOOLS!" Sam was suddenly back in the cage, Lucifer laughing beside him. "Boy, you should've seen the look on your face! HA!"

Sam backed into a corner. He wasn't free. Of course not. That would explain why Dean, er, not-Dean, seemed off. It was Lucifer the whole time.

Lucifer's laughing was subsiding. "Oh, it was so hard to get it right! You figured me out, how many times? Hmm, probably about sixty."

Sam was confused, at least until the memories came flooding back into him. Not-Dean acting strange, little quirks being ignored, saying 'Sammy' wrong...

Sam stared down the fallen angel. "You never got him right, ya know. You never tricked me 100%."

Lucifer stopped laughing, eyes burning red. "Guess I have something to work on, don't I?"