Crowley seemed tired, hurt, even. Lucifer could tell first thing he walked into the throne room.

"I know that look," he said. "Sam and Dean have got you down. Well, I still can't believe that you're working for the Dukes of Haphazard. Do you really think they care about you? I mean, think about it, Crowley. They kill your kind. It's in their blood. And you know… you know… it's only a matter of time before they come for you."

"Shut your mouth, dog."

At that insult Lucifer turned his head to Crowley, barely controlled anger in his voice, "That's not my name."

A mirthless laugh left the current king of Hell. "It is now, dog."

Lucifer growled at him and crawled to the bars of his cell. He made sure his eyes were red when he told Crowley, "You think you'll be able to keep me in here forever?" He laughed. "I'm gonna get out; we both know it. And then guess what?" The next sentence he said in a sing-song way, knowing it'd taunt Crowley. "I'm coming for you."

"How frightening," he said, sarcasm nearly hiding the fear in his voice. From where he was Lucifer could see him take a long sip from his drink.

"You know, you're playing with fire here, Crowley. You have me locked up, ruling my Hell."

"It's not your Hell. Not anymore."

Lucifer sat back in his cell. As much as he hated to admit it, Crowley was right. But that didn't mean he should be locked up in this tiny cell that he couldn't even stand up in. Some days he thought he preferred the Cage to this. At least there he'd had space to walk around. But without Sam the Cage had been lonely. Michael wasn't much fun. Most days Lucifer had just kept him in a different dimension within the Cage so he didn't have to deal with him. The show tunes got annoying. However, here, he had a link to the Winchesters, he had someone to talk to, and he was going to use that.

"I suppose you're right," Lucifer eventually agreed. "But you don't seem to be enjoying your reign. Is it the Winchesters? What did they do this time? Did they give you more death threats than you expected?" Still silent. "You know, I heard some rumors about you and Dean Winchester. How you two paraded around, having the best of time together. I even heard that you sometimes shared a bed. Tell me, is that true?"

"Shut up."

"Ooh, I hit a nerve," Lucifer observed. "So it is true."

The king of Hell spoke, "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, but it doesn't matter because you're in here, and they're out there."

"Which is a problem for you. Like I said, they kill demons. The second you're no longer useful to them they'll snuff you out just like all the others. The Winchesters are just using you. It's what they do."

"You know, if I didn't find you so entertaining I'd cut your tongue out."

Lucifer knew that wasn't the truth. Crowley was currently reveling in the fact that he held him prisoner, but they both knew that couldn't last forever. And they knew that if Crowley actually had him leave the confines of his cell he might be able to escape. So yes, the current king of Hell probably did want to cut his tongue out, but he was too scared to do it.

The Devil laughed. His current situation was quite literally Hell, but it wouldn't be forever. He'd withstood the Cage, he could withstand this. Besides, Crowley was nothing compared to him. He was ancient, powerful, the rightful king of Hell, and Crowley was just a stupid demon who'd leapt at the first opportunity to rule, to have power. Lucifer would get out. He'd go after Crowley. He'd go after all of them.

He'd made a promise to Sam, one he knew they both remembered. This wasn't over.