What happened next is hard to describe. Not by human standards, at least. Sam was surprised that the images, memories he saw coupled with Lucifer's waves of rage and sadness and terror did not drive him insane. Or maybe it did. But it's easier to detach himself from everything he(Lucifer, it's Lucifer's thoughts and memories and pain that is crashing over him, not his own) is feeling. Sam takes up the role as the silent observer.(It's easier this way) Lucifer twitches a little besides him.
Sam tugs at his arm again. Still no response. The sky in front of them lit up, and Sam was once again reeling from the extent of Lucifer's feelings. Anger, so much anger that Sam is seeing red, shame boiling from the bottom of his gut, acid and putrid. Sorrow that chills his bones. And Sam can understand why, because the angels are falling. Not just falling, but screaming, bright light tearing at each other, wings burning into bone and ashes, loud, primal screams ringing in his ears.
At this point Sam is so good at detachment that he should be worried, but if he is not detached then he would be insane a long time ago. Lucifer was among the falling, Michael above them, tearing at his wings with his bare hands, the brothers screaming at each other, begging and screaming as drops of grace and light poured from Heaven down onto the skies onto Earth. The macabre light show went on and on until there was nothing in Sam's ears but ringing and nothing on his mind but the bone-wings of fallen Angels. What is worst is in his mind. Lucifer's voice echoing in his skull, "brother, please-"
And he sounds so desperate that Sam couldn't breath and he pulls at Lucifer again. Lucifer remains silent and unresponsive, staring at the skies, pupils blown wide. "Don't do this, brother-" Michael screams in the background as Lucifer fights back, clawing desperately but he still falls, and he screams all the way down and Michael howls, desperate and broken and Sam is overcome with sorrow, so much that he could drown in it so he pulls himself away and pulls at Lucifer again more forcefully(physically? mentally?)
The scene disappears from his mind, and Sam lets out a breath he did not know he was holding. They were back at the forest. Sam knew, instinctively, that if Lucifer loses it again, then Sam has to go through another unwanted blast from the past again, and he might just lose his mind if that happens again. "Lucifer," He shakes Lucifer by his shoulders. The man is shorter than him, and lighter than he looks. "Lucifer." Sam says again, this time more forcefully. His eyes remains unfocused. Glazed over, and Sam realizes that this scares him. Seeing the all-powerful, almost larger than life Archangel in this state. And those memories. He is feeling sympathy for the Devil after seeing all that. The sky tilts a little, and Sam shakes Lucifer again, cupping his face so that he is facing him.
"C'mon, look at me. It feels strange, saying these things to Lucifer. Strange, but right. Somehow.
"Sam?"
Who knew his name would sound so right coming from the Devil's lips?
Michael raged when he first dropped down into the pit, still wearing the body of Adam Milligan. The trees shifted around him as his grace burnt them to ashes, until even their roots became scorched, and the next day they would sprout up again, unwelcome, and they always fueled his anger. He lashed out, day after day, at his surroundings, at the walls of the cage(he could feel the walls these are the walls). He attempted to lash out at the soul inside of him, but it just frustrated him even more when Adam offered no resistance(he did resist, Michael was just toopowerful to even feel it)
He screamed for Lucifer to come out and fight him, fight him like he meant it, like it was always meant to be and got no answer. He begged for his father to come and save him. It was Lucifer's cage. He was the one who threw Lucifer into the cage and yet he was in here with him. It hurt, throwing his brother down. It hurt more than anything yet Michael still did it, because he was loyal to his father more than all else, and he is still here. Time runs differently, here.
On what felt like the third day(third week? Third year?) He felt a small tendril at the back of his mind. The sword of Heaven almost scoffed when he felt Adam's soul attempting to reach out to him. He sat back, leaned against a tree and closed his eyes.
Drowning himself in alcohol and self-pity was not the best idea by far. Dean groans, flips over and drapes his arm over some sleeping girl. At least his game is still on, even when he was pissed. His head felt like midgets trying to crack open his skull with tiny hammers, and that was the most unpleasant feeling he has ever felt. It could be one of the worst hangovers he had in his(relatively short) lifetime.
Which is impressive, given the amount of hangover's he's had. By the time the giggling girl left it was almost noon, and Dean had nothing better to do than to pray. No going to Bobby's(how long has it been since he talked to the old man?) No trying to get Sam out(No Demons would deal, no witches would even try, and don't get him started on the Angels.) So he prayed.
"Castiel." He calls out, and Damn if Dean did not feel like a creepy, nagging, ex with the amount of time he spent talking(praying?) to Cas.
"Hey Cas." He breaths again. "If you are there, man, please, listen to me. I..I've got nowhere to go. Not anymore. It's kinda pathetic, really. Just...come when you can, okay?" Dean's left standing there with no response, and, somehow, he was not even surprised.