Sam was grateful for all of it. It was uncomfortable, but it wasn't rough, and while his wounds stung and his muscles ache, it was done. It was always done after he spilled over.

Lucifer didn't change the rules on him this time, either. He reached out and stroked Sam's hair back, almost comforting, before he bent away, not so much as laying a hand on Eliot as he retreated a step or two.

He stopped, though, bouncing on his heel and looking back on Eliot. "For now. I knew you could do what you're told. Now all you need to do is transfer that over to people you could care a whole hell of a lot less for. Simple, really." He made a clucking sound with his tongue, then turned away again, and a moment later the door was closed.

Sam had to do everything he could not to slump right over. Eliot could choose to do anything at this point, help him free or leave him tied up, but he hoped it was the former, no matter that if he was alone he would have waited it out. He hadn't been beaten like this in so long, it was more the shock of the pain than anything else.

All he said, though, was: "Are you okay?"