Every rose has its thorn

Sam wakes up

Before Sam fully awoke he could hear the sounds of birds singing, the gentle trilling of starlings calling to each other. He breathed deeply and smelled the unmistakeably sweet scent of clean fresh air and ...wait, was that coffee?

He opened his eyes and found he was lying in a soft clean double bed, snuggled under a floral patchwork comforter. The bed was near an open window and a light breeze gently swayed lace curtains back and forth.

Sunshine filled the light, airy bedroom. He blinked as he sat up, staring around at a room he was sure he had never been in before. The white antique-effect dressing table had various make-up items, powders and hair clips scattered over its surface, and the wardrobe opposite the bed had several pink and patterned scarves haphazardly thrown over the top of the doors.

This was definitely a woman's bedroom, Sam thought, but whose? And what was he doing here? A ton of questions slammed into Sam's brain.

He climbed out of the bed and walked to the window, beyond relieved to see he was wearing clothing, even if it was just a plain white t-shirt and boxers.

Outside, a clear blue sky framed miles and miles of field land, as far as the eye could see, but there were no roads, houses or any other visible landmarks anywhere on the vast horizon.

Where the hell am I? he asked himself, even though knew the answer.

His first view of Hell was not what he had been expecting.

Dean had never mentioned anything like this.

He turned back to face the room and as he did so he caught a glimpse of himself in the dressing table mirror. The image surprised him. He looked...well, the only word to describe it was healthy. His hair shone clean, his eyes no longer had the dark smudges under them that he had been getting used to seeing, and his body appeared fit and lean. After everything he had been through over the past few months...years really, he expected to look older, more tired, and he barely recognised the hale and hearty reflection that looked back at him.

A voice from somewhere downstairs pulled him out of his stare. It was a woman's voice, playful and warm.

"Come on Sammy-Sleepyhead, rise and shine - there's good coffee going to waste here..."

And in that moment, the room around him lost its golden glow, becoming greyer and colder. Ice crawled down Sam's spine, freezing him in his tracks. There was something in the voice he recognised - he wasn't sure exactly what it was - maybe it was the way she inflected the word 'Sammy', but he knew straight away who was calling to him. Although he had never heard this particular voice in a woman's tone before.

"Come on Sammy...Lucy's getting impatient...."

Lucy...was Lucifer?