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The motel had a major ice dam problem, to the point where icicles falling on people weren't even a liability issue anymore because you couldn't walk under them anymore. They blocked portions of the windows, looking like bars in some icy prison.
Sam wondered if that made Lucifer uncomfortable. He didn't realize until Lucifer replied that he'd wondered it aloud.
"No, Sam. I believe that the cage isn't quite how you imagine it. It didn't have bars or locks or anything like that."
There was nothing particularly guarded in Lucifer's voice, no sign that this was something Lucifer didn't want to talk about but did anyway because Sam asked, so Sam felt just comfortable enough to turn to Lucifer and ask more. "Was there ice?"
Lucifer appeared to think for a long moment, trying to figure out how to explain his former prison to Sam when he knew the nature of it was far beyond a human's comprehension. "It was very cold," he finally settled on replying.
Sam nodded, as though he understood, although both he and Lucifer knew that he didn't and never could, really. He walked over to his angel silently, and wrapped his arms around him. Sam looked out the window as he held Lucifer close, wishing that Lucifer would never have to be cold again.