“What?!” chorused the voices of the Winchester brothers.
“He’s telling the truth,” Castiel said, staring intently at Lucifer. “Or at least part of it. He no longer has all of his Grace. How?”
Lucifer shot the three of them a hard look. He stood before them, his vessel no longer burning and failing but as whole as the day he found Nick. “If I knew, I’d fix it. My only guess is Father and His very inappropriate sense of humor decided to rip it from me on top of dumping me on you three.”
Castiel’s eyes went wide. “Father? You’ve seen Him?” The younger angel moved a step closer to his fallen brother, danger forgotten in the face of maybe finding the missing God.
“I didn’t see Him, Castiel. But He’s the only one who could and would do this to me.” Lucifer looked almost pityingly at the other angel. Such a faithful child Castiel was, so blindly trusting and loving of their Father. “Either way, I wouldn’t count on me being any help in finding Him, little brother.”
Castiel visibly deflated and took a step back, his original caution towards Lucifer returning as the excitement over their Father waned. The Winchesters came forward and flanked him, Dean with his gun pointed at Lucifer’s chest, eyes hard and deadly. If he had been any other creature the Righteous Man might have unnerved him. As it were, however, he wasn’t just any other creature and he didn’t rightly care at the moment whether or not he lived or died.
For all intents and purposes he was human. His Grace had been ripped away from him, leaving the once powerful archangel hollow and weak. He had no more strength than his vessel would have had on his own. Though, He did still have all of his memories and knowledge and, judging by the lack of the bruises he’d sustained just under an hour ago, he still healed at a more rapid pace than a garden variety human. He was much too close to mortality for comfort.
“So,” Sam said, knife held tightly in his fist. “What do we do with him?”
“I’m all for shooting the poor bastard,” Dean said immediately.
Lucifer rolled his eyes. He wasn’t shocked, not in the least. He was more surprised that Dean hadn’t already taken the shot. The elder brother probably thought the whole situation was some sort of trick.
“No, we will keep an eye on him. If this truly is Father’s doing then he was sent to us for a reason and I doubt that reason is death.” Castiel turned his head to look Dean in the eyes. “We should still be wary, though. Mortal or not, this is Lucifer.”
The discussion dissolved into a list of quick-fire pros and cons to carting Lucifer around and trying to divine whatever God’s will was – if it was, or just flat out killing him and saving everyone the trouble.
“Do I get a say in any of this?” Lucifer spat. He hated how they spoke about him as if he weren’t even there, standing before them.
“No!” came the answer from all three.
The next few days found the four of them driving almost nonstop to Bobby’s. Dean and Sam would switch out driving for the other to rest and attempt to sleep. Castiel sat in the back beside Lucifer, occasionally glancing over at him and staring for a few moments, as if trying to solve some kind of puzzle. After a day in near silence, the only sounds between them coming from Dean’s music and the roar of the Impala’s engine, Lucifer grew bored.
“Are we there yet?” he whined, sounding for all the world like a petulant child. “I’m bored.”
“Shut it,” Dean snapped. “We get there when we get there.”
Lucifer slid down in his seat, his knees pushing into the back of Sam’s chair. “This vehicle is so slow. How you humans manage is beyond me. Can’t Castiel just fly us to wherever it is you’re taking me?”
“No, he can’t. And sit up, you’re digging into my back,” Sam said, reaching around to swat at the fallen archangel. “You’re going to have to get used to it anyway, seeing as you can’t fly anymore.”
“Shut it or I pull this car over and gag you!”
“Kinky, Dean. Didn’t know you felt that way.” Lucifer chuckled at the shout of rage the elder Winchester gave.
Everything was back to silence, music, and engine. Lucifer distracted himself with the idea of gagging those pains in his side. The idea of gagging Dean was good, it’d shut him up at the very least. The thought of gagging Sam, however, was a much better idea. Something about the image had his lips turning upwards in a self-satisfied smile.
During the break between songs on Dean’s tapes a low grumble sounded from the back. Two sets of eyes turned to stare at the devil while another pair looked from the reflection of the rearview mirror.
“Well, that’s an uncomfortable feeling.” There was a gnawing pain in his stomach that had been growing for the past few hours. Lucifer had though it would go away if he ignored it, but it had only gotten worse. How did humans deal with these things?
“Oh, wow. Is he hungry? For real?” Dean said, his voice a mix of amusement and disbelief. How was this his life? Carting around a pair of not-quite-angels who both needed to learn to be human?
Castiel looked like he might start laughing at the thought of the mighty Morningstar needing to eat. Thankfully, the younger angel kept his face mostly stoic, only the slightest upwards curve of his lips and the light in his eyes giving his amusement away.
Sam laughed. “That’s hilarious! You even have to eat. Whoever did this really didn’t cut corners on the whole mortality thing, huh?” He chuckled some more before his own stomach gave a rumbling gurgle. He quickly shut up after that.
Without another word Dean rolled his eyes and pulled into the next rest stop they passed. He parked and the four made their way inside at tiny, run down looking diner. As soon as they were seated, Dean and Sam on one side of the booth, Castiel and Lucifer on the other, Dean flicked open his menu and scanned the burger choices. Sam flipped slowly through the three page menu, eyes scanning every item. Castiel ignored his menu in lieu of peering over the top of Dean’s.
Lucifer opened his and began to read though the choices. He had no idea what half of the selections were, let alone what they tasted like. He smelled a number of interesting scents that made his stomach ache for whatever caused them. He took to glaring at his menu while he listened to Dean try and convince Castiel to eat something.
“Come on, Cas,” he said. “You like burgers, we know that much! You’d love one with bacon and extra cheese and onions. Just try it!”
“I do not need to eat, Dean.” Dean huffed and shook his head. This was obviously a conversation they had often.
So, Castiel liked burgers. Lucifer flipped to the page and read out their description. Beef patties on buns. It didn’t sound very appetizing at all. He continued reading. Salads with vegetables and oil dressings sounded tasteless and dull. The sandwiches had more meats on bread and didn’t manage to sound any better than the burgers. He passed by the fried cheese sticks, fried potatoes, fried breads. Nothing seemed at all worthy. In a small act of rage he slammed the menu down and willed it to burst into flames or melt or simply cease to be. All to no avail.
“Lucifer!” Sam hissed at him. “What the hell, man?”
“Trash and filth. That’s all that’s on there.”
Sighing Sam set his menu down. “It’s food. And if you don’t want to starve then you have to eat some of it. Just pick something to try”
Grumbling Lucifer pointedly turned his head to stare out the window. The others didn’t even try to further reason with him. When the waitress came by for their drink orders Sam made sure to ask for a water for him along with the other drinks. Castiel and Dean continued with their banter over burgers and Sam contended himself with listening to them and peering over at Lucifer every couple of minutes.
The waitress came back and took their food orders and he noticed that Sam tacked on a stack of pancakes. When she returned a plate was pushed in front of him. Piled on top of it were three flat, round pieces of warm bread with a small glob of butter melting on top of it. Must be the pancakes. A brown bottle was placed beside the plate and he looked up to see Sam staring at him and Castiel and Dean looking at Sam. (Castiel had a burger in front of him, which meant Dean had convinced the other angel to eat after all.) Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the man. What was he getting at? He couldn’t help but be suspicious of the hunter. It was like he was trying to help him, and after millennia of standing alone, even when he was still surrounded by his brothers, he never trusted the aid of another blindly. He just couldn’t figure out what Sam was plotting.
“They taste better with syrup,” was Sam’s explanation. He gestured to the brown bottle of syrup and focused on his own food.
Doubtful that anything would taste good Lucifer opened the bottle and sniffed it. A sugary smell met him and he found his mouth watering just a bit. He caught a whiff of the warm pancakes and the melting butter as well and when they mixed his stomach gave an encouraging rumble. Dumping a generous amount onto the plate Lucifer grabbed his fork and dug in.
The pancakes were warm and sweeter than he thought they’d be. The butter gave a sharpness to the sugar as the flavors mingled in his mouth. Maybe food wasn’t so bad. He set about devouring what was in front of him. Sam sat in front of him, eating his salad with a smug air while Dean and Castiel just seemed amused.
After that came dessert. Dean ordered a slice of apple pie with the enthusiasm of a child, Sam went for blueberry pie, and Castiel declined, with surprisingly little fight from Dean. Lucifer asked what other types of pie there were and ordered the only other flavor not being brought to the table: cherry.
When the pies arrived and Lucifer took his first bite he was not disappointed. The tart sweetness was perfect and he ate the whole slice as quickly as he could. Once his plate was cleared he snagged a bite off of Sam’s plate. Blueberry was sweeter than cherry and heavier on the tongue. Sam shot him a glare and slapped his hand away when he went back for another bite. Dean laughed and mocked his brother, leaving his last mouthful of apple pie unguarded. He scooped it up and into his mouth in one quick motion. This time the sugar had a hint of spice to it.
“That,” he said. “I like that one the best.”
Dean’s face changed from one of fury at the loss of his pie to an expression of mild horror. “No! You’re the devil! You can’t like pie! Pie is good. You are evil! You can’t do that! It’s…just… wrong!”
Lucifer grinned at Dean and the look was all predator. “I wasn’t aware food had allegiances. I’d have to say, though, that pie was sinfully delicious.” The way Dean’s face turned red was well worth the swift kick to the shin that Sam delivered. “Ow!”
“Stop it,” Castiel said to his older brother. “Please refrain from acting like a child and antagonizing Dean. It’s only going to make things worse for you.” Lucifer stuck out his tongue, just to be contrary. Dean griped about sharing a favorite pie with the devil and declared his pie-loving life over.
It was another day and a half until Lucifer fell asleep.
At first he wasn’t sure what was happening. He was standing in a field of browning grass, though to be fair, there were more patches of dirt than actual grass. Above him the sky was a dull grey and he couldn’t be sure if it was due to clouds or if the sky had just felt like being a different color. He turned slowly and felt the dry earth below him crunch with the movement.
“You are sleeping.” Castiel was suddenly in front of him, a few paces away. “Your dreamscape is surprisingly…”
“Dull?” Lucifer finished for him.
Castiel shrugged. “Tame.”
Lucifer snorted. “What do you want?”
“I want to know if you were telling the truth about how you lost your Grace and…” he hesitated.
“And Father? God? I didn’t lie. It’s just the only thing that makes even a little sense. Father is playing a game with me now that I’ve broken out of His little cage. I’ve upset Him again.” The fallen archangel looked over at his brother. “Don’t waste your energies looking for Him. Even if He was somewhere to be found, if He doesn’t want you to find him, you never will. Accept that and move on, Castiel.”
He watched as the younger angel waged a war within himself. While Lucifer couldn’t exactly say what gave him the feeling, he was sure that Castiel was falling, albeit slowly. When Castiel looked him in the eye again he was positive. Doubt shone through his brother’s vessel. Doubt towards their Father and His plans. And Lucifer was surprised to find he was not happy to see it there at all.
He knew how painful a Fall could be. Though he hadn’t lost his Grace when he was cast into the Pit the very absence of the Host left him hollow and cold. It was a constant ache that he could not rid himself of no matter what he did. He’d gotten used to it after a few hundred years. It still hurt, but it was less encompassing. Now, with his Grace all but gone completely the ache was back and it echoed in the space left empty with his newfound mortality. It hurt and the silence he felt was deafening at times. He couldn’t find it in himself to wish what he was feeling on his earnest little brother.
Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t pure evil. Yes, he was twisted and sometimes cruel, but it wasn’t all his fault. He hated God and His humans that he favored over the angels. He even hated the Host a little bit for not trying to defend him when he declared war. He held tight to his rage and his loss. It gave him purpose and that gave him some comfort.
Castiel had none of that. He didn’t hate God or the Host. Lucifer was starting to think he didn’t even hate him. Castiel probably didn’t actually know how to hate. He barely knew doubt and free will. Castiel would not fare well if he fell to humanity. Lucifer learned his losses separately and they still nearly crippled him. How could he expect Castiel to survive such pain? Lucifer felt for his little brother.
His emotions must have shown on his face (or Castiel picked them up just by being in his dream) because his eyes widened and he looked, for just a moment, so very small. “You did know you were falling, right?”
“I had… suspected. It is only to be expected after I broke rank and defied orders. I am hardly the first to do so.” Lucifer heard the unspoken implications that followed.
He walked towards Castiel and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It will hurt. You will feel empty and lost and it will seem as if there is no comfort. I won’t tell you to return to Heaven. I doubt they’d even have you.” The truth of that stung the pair of them. Heaven was unforgiving; no matter how much it boasted love.
“Then what am I to do?” His voice was small and his eyes were wide with fear and sadness. He looked to the archangel for guidance, the only brother who he had left to turn to. For a moment he remembered a much younger Castiel, full of wonderment and light. Always wanting to learn and know and so ready to love and trust, ever the child.
“I wouldn’t know. But have faith. Not in the Host or Father. Find somewhere else to put it and hold on. I can’t say for sure, but faith might give more strength to you than anger and hate.”
His shoulders sagged and his eyes fell to the ground between them. “I do not want to fall.”
Lucifer sighed and put his arm around his brother’s shoulder. “No one ever does.”
Sam leaned against the Impala as Dean fueled her up. They were only a couple of hours from Bobby’s place and everyone was getting restless. Castiel had been even more quiet than usual, which put Dean on edge and when Dean was antsy he tended to snap at Sam. And Sam, having been crammed into the Impala nearly nonstop for three days, wasn’t in the mood to just let his brother’s behavior slide. Then there was Lucifer who seemed to go between very bored, which lead to pestering, or sulking at the loss of his powers, which would only end in him being volatile and angry, and an angry Lucifer was no good for anyone.
The ex-archangel, while very close to being human, was still obviously not completely mortal. He only needed to eat one meal a day, he healed much quicker than a person, as they found out when Dean finally lost his temper and stabbed him in the arm only to find the wound healed over by night fall, and he slept about an hour or two every other night without seeming tired or worn from it. He also kept his pestering mostly to the Winchesters, opting to either be playful with Castiel or leave him alone entirely (usually when he noticed Castiel wasn’t getting his jokes).
It was weird, having Lucifer around without one party trying to kill the other. He had, comparatively, been behaving himself. They’d found he had something of a sweet tooth but preferred his sugar with salt or spices mixed in (like chocolate pretzels or cinnamon apple muffins with lots of butter) and was partial to fruits. He threw tantrums sometimes and broke things and almost constantly insulted them. He whined and pouted and sulked and acted like a small child whenever the Winchesters didn’t rise to his bait or if he didn’t get his way. He would snap at Dean whenever he was short with Castiel out of frustration in some misguided attempt to be a Big Brother. And he would not stop digging his knee into the back of Sam’s seat. It reminded Sam of dealing with Dean when the older Winchester had been a teenager.
It was weird.
The gas pump clicked off and Dean hung it up. “I’m gonna call Bobby and let him know we’re close. Keep an eye on our pet devil.” He turned towards the small store and called out, “Cas! Come on, we need to get you more minutes for your phone!”
Castiel and Dean headed off while Sam peered into the Impala’s back seat to check on Lucifer. “If he makes one more crack about me being anything-“
“You have a better chance of getting back into Heaven,” Sam interrupted. He’d heard it from both Dean and Lucifer, about how the other was getting on their last nerve and just what they were going to do about it. Lucifer gave much more detail and when he was talking about slowly killing Sam’s brother, but Dean was disturbingly creative in his threats. He’d really rather not hear anything from either of them.
There was a huff before the door opened and Lucifer climbed out. He leaned his arms on the hood and just sort of stared at Sam. Even though most of his Grace was missing his stare still held an otherworldly weight to it, not unlike Castiel’s own unblinking gaze. Where they differed was the eyes, and even then not too much. While both Lucifer’s and Castiel’s eyes were some shade of blue. Castiel’s were warm and bright, like the ocean on a sunny day. Lucifer’s were flat and cold and pale, similar to ice during the very first few moments of daylight before everything is properly bright.
Sam knew he should be unnerved by the attention but he could only wonder what it was the fallen angel wanted. He found himself, instead, staring right back, trying to read something in the impassive face.
“Why is your brother taking my brother with him into the store? Surely, he can handle himself.”
Sam blinked. If he had been expecting anything, that certainly hadn’t been it. Lucifer raised an eyebrow and Sam supposed he wanted an answer. “We’re trying to teach Cas how to blend in with humans better. You know, how money works, turns of phrases, though I figure that one is just impossible.”
Lucifer’s eyebrow only climbed higher. “You sad, sorry excuses for life are trying to drag my brother down to your level?” Lucifer pushed off the Impala and rounded it to get in Sam’s face. “He is an angel! He is better than you and here he is, falling and losing his Grace for you worthless apes! And all you are doing is helping him along!”
Sam took a step back in shock. Lucifer may have been powered down but he was still Lucifer, the devil. Then his words hit him. “F-falling? Cas?”
Lucifer sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yes! Falling! As in losing his Grace! You know, that bit that makes him an angel!”
Sam sputtered in shock. He hadn’t had any idea. Castiel hadn’t said anything and neither had Dean, though Dean probably didn’t know either. Why did Lucifer know? Could he just see it or did Castiel tell him? “Falling…” Sam muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. This was not good. Very not good.
Lucifer rounded on him again. “Yes! If he doesn’t stop hanging around you two he’ll be human before he knows it! How does it feel? Knowing you helped pull an angel down from heaven, Sam? Do you-”
“LUCIFER!” A clap of thunder followed the name. Before Sam blinked Castiel was between them, nose to nose with the ex-archangel. “The state of my Grace is no one’s concern but my own! How dare you use it as some petty tool to bring down their spirits? I will not have you using them as an outlet for your anger, nor myself as leverage! You will regret your actions if it ever happens again. Am I understood?”
Lucifer, to his credit, looked equal parts impressed and uneasy. He nodded stiffly and sulked off in the other direction. No one cared to stop him.
Dean put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. The angel was still oddly tense, even for him. “Cas? Hey, you okay, man?” Castiel gave a curt nod, not even looking over at the worried hunter. “Why the hell didn’t you tell us?” Dean’s voice was tight, like he was angry but trying not to show it.
Castiel sighed and shrugged his shoulders, a very human gesture, even more so in light of this new information. “I did not think it of import. There was no need to alarm you. I was handling it just fine.”
Dean, sick of the lack of eye contact from the angel, stepped in front of him, a hand on each shoulder. “You are losing your Grace. That’s very important!”
“I did not want to be seen as a burden, Dean. If you knew-”
Dean shook him. “You are not and never will be a burden!” Dean looked ready to start yelling at Castiel, and that was just not what they needed right now.
It was true that Castiel should have told them that he had been slowly powering down, but overall, it was his own business. “Let it go,” Sam said, stepping beside the pair. “We know now and we just have to be more careful, like any other day. We also might want to step up Cas’ human training, if he’s going to wind up on our level soon.”
All of them felt vaguely uncomfortable at the thought, Dean even turned a bit green in the face as he let the idea filter in. None of them liked the idea, but it was reality and they had to deal with it the best they could. Sam started around towards the passenger side of the Impala and climbed in. He’d said all he had to say.
Dean and Castiel eyed Lucifer who had stopped at the edge of the parking lot and was menacing some bushes and whatever was living in them. “You know,” Dean said, eyes still on Lucifer. “We could leave him here. He’s human. Not exactly very dangerous anymore, is he?”
Castiel shook his head. “He is still Lucifer. He has millennia of knowledge and resentment towards humankind. Humans can murder and harm others. He can and probably will cause damage without his Grace, I’m sure of it. We need to keep an eye on him.”
Dean had to concede the point. As much as he hated toting around the ex-archangel he knew he didn’t have much of a choice. There really weren’t any other people who could handle such a task. Most hunters didn’t even know angels existed, and he wasn’t about to hand off the (once) second most powerful angel to someone who didn’t know what they were getting into.
“Well then, let’s go collect our baggage and hit the road.” Castiel and Dean made their way over to Lucifer and managed to get him back into the car with as few threats of bodily harm or worse as Dean could manage. With the Impala loaded up Dean drove the final few hours towards Bobby’s.
It was midafternoon by the time Dean pulled into Singer Salvage and everyone was thankful for their arrival. Sam was out his door before Dean had turned off the car, calling dibs on first shower over his shoulder and only pausing briefly to say hello to Bobby.
Dean shouted after him about over-sized, traitorous, baby brothers and having first shower rights by being older. The only thing that kept him from running inside after Sam was Bobby pointing a gun at his baby. Or rather, what was standing next to his baby. Castiel and Lucifer were both out of the car, Castiel standing slightly between Bobby’s gun and the fallen archangel. “You boys better have a damned good excuse for why the devil is standing in my junk yard! What did you three idjits do?”
“Nothing! Jesus Bobby, why does it always have to be our fault when shit hits the fan?” Dean said, arms flailing about in pent up exasperation. “He just showed up as, for all intents and purposes, a human.”
“At the moment, we’re blaming God,” Lucifer added, eyeing Bobby’s gun, still trained on him.
From the look on the old hunter’s face he didn’t buy it for one minute. He looked between the three men in front of him and sighed. He wasn’t going to get any answers standing here pointing his gun, no matter how much he wished that was how life worked. “Well, come in. Answers aren’t gonna fall out of the sky, now are they?”
Once inside, Dean, giving up on his shower when he heard the water running, he made a beeline for the kitchen and opened up a beer, swallowing half the bottle in one go. He offered one to Castiel, who declined, and flopped onto the couch. Cas sat beside him while Bobby started paging through books on his desk and muttering about idjit boys and idjit angels and damned devils. Lucifer simply leaned against the wall at the bottom of the stairs.
A few minutes passed in silence, only Bobby’s pages and the shower water running making noise. Dean finished his beer and set the empty bottle down with a clunk. “So…”
“Y’all are a bunch of morons!” Bobby turned to face them. “Not only do you stumble across Lucifer but you haul him half way across the country into my damn house! What were you thinking boy?”
Dean sat up and leaned towards Bobby. “What else were we supposed to do? He’s got no Grace, Bobby, and none of us know why.”
“God,” both Lucifer and Castiel said at the same time.
Bobby cast a look between the pair of them before turning back to dean. “God? That’s what you think is going on here?”
Dean shrugged. “It seems to be the popular theory. And, I mean, what else do we have to go on? Have you ever heard of anything else that could sap an archangel of his Grace?”
Bobby slumped back into his chair and ran a hand over his face. “So, if it is God, why not just lock Lucifer back up or, better yet, kill him? Why just drain his mojo?”
Dean and Castiel exchanged glances, each looking for an answer from the other. Lucifer rolled his eyes and let out a heavy huff. “Best guess? God is trying to prove some sort of point. He likes doing that from time to time.”
“And what?” Bobby growled. “He’s trying to prove it with you?”
Lucifer locked eyes with the old hunter and simply stared at him in that flat, unblinking way only angels seemed to be able to do. “No, I think He’s trying to prove it to me.”
With that said he pushed off the wall and made his way out the front door. The screen slammed behind him and there was silence for a few seconds before Sam’s footsteps could be heard padding down the stairs. “Moody little princess, isn’t he?” Bobby muttered to the room.
Sam came to stand next to Bobby and his books, towel slung over both shoulders wearing an old cotton tee and a pair of blue jeans. “What’d I miss?”
“Luci throwing a hissy fit, nothing special,” Dean answered easily. He stood up and started to make his way upstairs. “There had better be hot water left, Sammy!”
Castiel stood as well and headed out to where Lucifer had gone with the explanation, “I am going to keep an eye on him.”
Sam looked down at Bobby who just shrugged, gave a gruff kind of noise, and went about flipping through his books. Sam tossed his towel over the banister and walked into the kitchen. Grabbing a cup he poured himself water and downed it before settling himself to help Bobby with whatever research he was doing.
Castiel found Lucifer amidst the old, rusted cars. He leaned his hip against the door of one that had had its windows smashed out and roof badly dented with his back towards the approaching, younger angel. He came to a stop beside his fallen brother and stood there with him in silence, looking out over the junk yard. Neither spoke even though they both had things to say.
“Why do you throw yourself away for those creatures?” Icy eyes turned upwards to the sky.
Castiel took a moment to consider, “They are right. This world is theirs and they fight for it. The have more faith and hope than the whole of the Host. They are breakable, true, but far from weak. What they lack in body they make up for greatly in spirit and heart, brother. Humans are as amazing as our Father claims them to be. I did not honestly believe that until I spent time with them.” Warm eyes glanced over at the fallen angel. “Perhaps that is what Father is trying to teach you?”
Lucifer shrugged. “Probably something like that. As if I will wind up like you, a human’s pet.”
Castiel didn’t let himself rise to the obvious bait. “We are equals. Friends.”
Finally, Lucifer looked him in the eye. “Are you? They treat you like a weapon, like some kind of leashed hound to be let loose on whomever they please. To them, you are nothing more than an attack dog, and once you lose your Grace you will be worthless to them and they will abandon you.”
Castiel bristled at that. “Never-“
“Especially Dean,” Lucifer continued. “As soon as you’re used up he’ll be the first to leave you on the side of some backwoods road like some cheap whore. He’s noth-”
Castiel slammed his brother against the old car, fists curled in Lucifer’s shirt. “Silence! You do not know those men and you certainly do not know Dean! You will stop it with your lies!”
Enraged Lucifer continued. “If they are lies why be so riled by them? Unless you know they’re true. I don’t lie, brother. I have no need. You are upset because you fear I am right!”
Castiel looked like he was about to attempt to smite Lucifer before he released his grip. “You know nothing about them and you are too blinded by your hate for humans to see any goodness in them at all. I don’t know what He hopes you will learn.” Castiel didn’t wait for the other to say anything more as he stalked off towards the house. Lucifer could watch after himself. There was nothing but old cars around for him to harm.