"He wants you to cower, Sam. Like he's learned. What's it going to take to teach you?" Lazar rested a heavy hand on Raphael's head, fingers gradually tightening in his hair. "Can't take much to destroy that bravado."

"You were made by Lucifer, yeah? I think after meeting the real deal, I ain't about to grovel before the diet version." Sam was silent for a moment, then he grinned. "He thinks you ain't shit, by the way. Lucifer."

"...you can communicate with Lucifer?" That would be something. Good or bad, perhaps terrifying. Lazar knew he felt a thrill at the possibility.

"Don't need to to know that. Just have to look at you." Sam was trying to keep Lazar's focus on him with a cocky attitude and jabs. Lazar didn't entirely take the bait, playing with Raphael's hair.

He looked at the angel and wet his lips. "I see why you liked him. We'll have to break him, won't we?"