They entered in defensive positions, brandishing whatever weapons they had, though they weren't sure they would be very effective. The scene was not how Dean had imagined; all in all, it looked like a typical old-fashioned dungeon, though there hardly seemed to be any torturing going on at all. In fact, Michael (he assumed it was Michael because it was in his father's body) and Adam were sitting against one wall and seemed both to be engaged with Adam's phone, and the physical form that Lucifer had occupied before Sam was lounging against the wall that joined at the corner. All three of them looked up when Sam, Dean and Castiel entered.

Sam swallowed, and tried not to look at Lucifer. He didn't want the memories to come back.

Adam's jaw dropped, and stood up suddenly, dropping his phone with a clatter and racing to them. "Sam! Dean! Did you get my messages?"

Dean grabbed him and pulled him behind his own back, prepared to defend him against any attack from either of the archangels, who seemed wary. "We sure did. Adam, we're so sorry we left you here so long. We had no way of knowing." His eyes weren't focused on Adam, though, but flicking from Michael to Lucifer, who had both stood up and were advancing.

"How long has it been?" said Adam. "Time moves differently here." He grabbed Sam's shirt suddenly. "I haven't slept for over three hundred years," he hissed.

"Uh..." Sam tensed, and tried not to look at Lucifer. "It's been nearly four years. Sorry."

"But the important thing is that you came back," said Lucifer. He spread his arms. "Sammy, I've missed you!" He moved as though to hug him, but Dean shoved him in the chest.

"You stay away from him, you son of a bitch. I know how this works, all right? You have no power here."

Lucifer looked at him with fury. "Don't lay your hands on me."

"Don't lay your hands on my brother."

"Oh, that's sweet," said Adam, with more than a hint of sarcasm. Dean gave him an apologetic look.

"Why are you here?" asked Michael. "You've brought Castiel with you. He's different now. Human... like you. Why?"

"Long story," said Dean, "but we're gonna have to grab Adam and run. Nice talkin' with you boys, though."

"Wait!" said Lucifer, raising a hand, and the door to the cage slammed shut once again, though the lock didn't click into place. Sam and Dean whirled round to look, and then both looked back to Lucifer with horror on their faces. "Oh, come on," said Lucifer. "You're not going to bring my Sam in here and wave him under my nose and then make off with him and my only source of entertainment, are you?"

"Now, you listen here," said Dean, brandishing the demon-killing knife at him (not that it would have had any effect whatsoever). "You messed Sammy up so bad he couldn't function. You tortured his soul till there was nearly nothing left, so, no, you don't get to keep him. He's not your Sam. In fact, you don't even get to say his name. You don't even get to look at him."

Lucifer regarded Dean with an expression of mild interest for a moment, then turned to Michael. He pointed at Dean. "See, that's what big brothers are supposed to do."

Michael sighed. "These boys are human. They are flawed. They do not understand our Father's plan – as you did. Of course one will defend the other. That does not mean that that is how it is supposed to be."

Lucifer's eyes practically bulged with fury. "I know that they're flawed! That's what I've been trying to tell you since the dawn of time!"

"But, despite this, we must love them anyway," Michael added, hastily.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're right." Lucifer cocked his head to the side. "Was that what you were trying to teach me when you were prodding Sam's soul with my pitchfork?"

"You what?" said Dean. Sam was squeezing his eyes shut, trying not to see or hear.

"Oh, yeah, I have a pitchfork," said Lucifer. "It's over there." He jerked a thumb over to the wall.

"No, no – Michael was using it?"

Michael looked abashed. "I was angry, I do admit. I only ever intended to... demonstrate my annoyance."

"It was you? You skinned his soul alive!" yelled Dean. "And you," he rounded on Lucifer, "I can't even start to imagine what you did to him, you sick son of a bitch—"

"What did you call my father?"

"I don't think that's what that expression means," said Castiel. They all looked at him, startled. "Sorry," he said, averting his eyes.

"Look, if there was any torturing, it was him, not me," said Lucifer. "I only wanted to play." His eyes were wide and innocent. Dean scoffed. "Hey, Michael was the one holding the pitchfork. I like Sam. I never wanted to hurt him. You guys do know that, right? Why would I torture my own vessel? I mean, that would be pretty stupid, right?"

Sam opened his eyes and looked to Dean for confirmation.

"No, no, hang on – Sam was hallucinating. He kept seeing you."

"Probably the pitchfork residue."

"Pitchfork residue?"

"Pitchfork residue."

"OK, stop." Adam waved his hands. "Sam, Dean, it was nice of you to come. But I mean, seriously? I've been listening to these two fight for centuries now. This... this really is not making things any better."

"You been poking him, too?" Dean asked Michael.

"No, he was my vessel," said Michael. "I don't agree with Lucifer on most issues, but torturing him would be pretty stupid. I am sorry if I caused Sam any lasting damage."

Dean's jaw tightened and he looked about ready to sock Michael in the face.

"To be fair, we do like Adam," said Lucifer. "His little cell phone thingie is one of the finer things not occurring in nature. That and heavy metal."

"Heavy metal?" said Dean.

"Of course. Hands down, Maiden beats Metallica."

"What did he jus—What did you just say to me?" said Dean incredulously. "Are you being serious right now?"

"Deadly. Number of the Beast. It's a classic."

"All right, buddy, let me tell you a thing or two—"

"Dean," said Sam. "You're arguing about heavy metal... with the Devil."

"He's right," shrugged Lucifer. "I invented it."

"That's not... actually... what I meant..." said Sam. He looked to Dean, trying to give him a cue to leave.

"Right!" said Dean, shaking his head. The atmosphere in the Cage was making his head fuzzy. He wasn't sure exactly what he was thinking, but somehow, he'd temporarily lost the drive to get out of there. "Let's go! Like I say, it's been nice talkin' to you, but we gotta get the hell outta Dodge." He gave them a false smile and turned to leave, but found their way blocked by Crowley.

"Hello again, boys."