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And Lucifer knew he shouldn’t—God, did he know he shouldn’t—but he had spent all of his life so cold that he associated warmth with safety, and it used to be Michael who was always there, who kept him warm on the worst nights, but now he wasn’t, he was gone, and this other being was right there instead, so much warmer than Lucifer ever remembered being, and promising him the same. Lucifer knew he should be running like hell, but he was warm for the first time since Michael left—so Hell if he didn’t tell Sam Yes.