Sam is still struggling with reality. Lucifer’s doing his best to help. Help Lucifer with his plans, that is.
Sam: You’re not real.
Lucifer: Right. You think this fruit bat fever dream is reality? You come back, I’m sorry, with no soul like some peppy American psycho till Saint Dean glues you back together again by buying you some … magic amnesia. You’re real. I’m very real. Everything between is what we call set dressing.
Sam: No.
Lucifer: You’re still in my cell. You’re my bunkmate, buddy. You’re my little bitch in every sense of the term. Sam. Sam. Sam.
Dean: Sam. You hearing me?
Lucifer: Hey. Wake up, sunshine. Up and at ’em, Atom Ant!
Always with the pop culture references! Lucifer must’ve had cable in the cage.
Lucifer: Oh, he wants to hold your widdle hand. How sweet.
How sincere, Luci.
Dean: Why would the Devil holodeck you a whole new life when he could just kick your ass all over the cage?
Sam: Cos as he puts it, [Lucifer joins in:] you can’t torture someone who has nothing left for you to take away.
Lucifer: Very good, Sam.
Dean: Okay, fine. But this Malibu dream mansion that he, he, he, he makes for you to take away is this post-apocalyptic mess?
Lucifer: It had to be a mess, Sam, or you wouldn’t believe it was your life.
Dean: What, are you seeing him right now?
Dean: You know that he’s not real, right?
Sam: He says the same thing about you.
Sam: Yeah?
Dean: Well, we are positive for ick. Same kind of stuff came out of Cas, and, uh, two of the swim kids were missing — they stole one of their parents’ cars.
Lucifer: You know, I really think Price William has found the right girl. What d’you think?
Sam: So you think these, um, these Leviathan things just jump into people? Like Eve did?
Dean: I don’t know, it makes sense, right? Anyway, uh, state trooper’s got surveillance cam on the kids about six hours old of them gassing up just south of Dakota line, so I’m headed back your way. We’ll just track them from Bobby’s.
Sam: Yeah, sounds good.
Dean: Hey. How ya doing?
Sam: You know, uh, okay.
Dean: Okay. Well hang in there, all right?
Lucifer: Just okay? Man, I’m having a great day!
Sam: Okay, if this is some dream and you got power over it, why don’t you just end it?
Lucifer: End it? This? You not knowing what’s real. The paint slowly peeling off your walls. Come on, man, this is the sweet spot, why would I end it? Not like we got HBO in the Pit. All I got is you, floating over the coals with half a hope that you’re gonna figure it all out. There’s only one way to figure it out, Sam. It’s up to you. It ends when you can’t take it anymore. I think that’s maybe why we’re cleaning our guns.
Sam: Shut up. I said shut up!
Lucifer doesn’t need to say anything to get to Sam.
Lucifer: So. Just you and me, huh?
Sam: Where the hell are we?
Lucifer-as-Dean: Oh, you think I’m Dean! Right.
Lucifer: You poor clueless son of a bitch.
Sam: Stay the hell away from me.
Lucifer: Your world is whatever I want it to be, understand?
Sam: Just leave me alone!
Lucifer: Now we’re getting there. Pinocchio’s seeing his strings.
Sam: Shut up.
Lucifer: It’s the big crescendo.
Sam: I said shut up!
Lucifer: Want to point that gun at someone useful? Try your face. Want to know the truth? Want to skip to the last page of the book? You know where to aim. Cowboy.
Dean: Sam?
Lucifer-as-Dean: Oh look. Another me.
Dean: Sam, what are you doing? Whoa, whoa!
Sam: I thought I was with you, Dean!
Dean: Okay. Well, here I am.
Sam: No. No, I don’t, I. I can’t know that for sure. You understand me?
Dean: Okay, now we’re gonna have to start small.
Sam: I don’t remember driving here.
Lucifer: Well that’s because I drove. You thought. Sam is very suggestible.
Dean: Whoa! Whoa! Sam! This discussion does not require a weapons discharge! Look at me. Come on. You don’t know what’s real? Look man, I’ve been to Hell. Okay, I know a thing or two about torture. Enough to know that it feels different. Than the pain of this, this regular, stupid, crappy, this.
Sam: No, no, how can you know that for sure?
Dean: Let me see your hand. No, no. The, the gimp hand! Let me see it.
Lucifer: Well, smell you, Florence Nightingale.
Dean: Hey.
Dean: This is real. Not a year ago, not in Hell, now. I was with you when you cut it, I sewed it up! Look!
Lucifer: We’ve done a lot more with pain.
Dean: This is different. Right? Then the crap that’s tearing at your walnut? I’m different. Right?
Sam: Yeah, I think so.
Lucifer: You sure about that, bunk buddy?
Dean: Sam? Sam?
Lucifer: Doesn’t mean anything.
Dean: Hey. I am your flesh and blood brother, okay? I’m the only one who can legitimately kick your ass in real time. You got away. We got you out, Sammy.
Lucifer: Sammy. Sammy. Sammy, I’m the only one who can…
Dean: Believe in that! Believe me, okay? You gotta believe me. You gotta make it stone number one and build on it. You understand?
Lucifer: Hey, so maybe I’m not real. Nobody’s perfect. But I’m not going anywhere, Sam.
