Work Text:
Angels are cold.
Angels are cold, but it doesn’t matter, since they’re surrounded by the warmth of Heaven, the glory of the Father.
Hell is cold.
Hell is biting, gnawing cold, with no possibility of reprieve.
Earth is little better. He’s still alone…humans don’t count.
He’s still cold.
Sam is warm, rage and passion and fire.
But Sam will have nothing to do with him.
When he finally agrees, finally says yes, Lucifer surrounds that warmth, being careful not to snuff it out.
But he’d underestimated Sam’s devotion to his calling, to his brother.
And Sam’s fire consumes him.