[Lucifer gives pause as he moves to leave, looking back.]

... Of course, Jack. Anything for the Son of Sam.

[Anything of that ilk. Poor kid, being labeled a Winchester; don't you know, that's just a recipe for disaster? He cocks his head to the side, studying Jack — his essence — for a moment, and then finds himself content enough this day.]

All you need to do is pray.

I'll hear you, and I'll know just when to return to your dreams.

... Hope you have pleasant ones, 'til then.

[He's gone afterward, in the blink of an eye.]