At the conclusion of his shower, Lucifer dries quickly and wraps the towel around his waist again; his clothes, he realizes as he looks at them laying sadly on the counter, are not fit for wearing. They really aren't fit for anything but burning, and even that's probably too good a fate for them. He had been filthy for long enough that he'd accepted it as a kind of default state of being, but the difference between being dirty and clean is prominent now that he's at the other end of the spectrum.

He has some reluctance, though, in getting rid of Nick's clothes. They are not his; they were his vessel's. Though now, he supposes, they're as much his as anyone's, since Nick has long since left the building.

He keeps the ring.

Opening the door, he looks for Daniel out in the room; it's empty and there is a set of clothes at his feet, which he presumes are for him. Daniel is barely shorter than his vessel and built similarly, and when he unfolds the clothes, they seem close to what he previously wore, size-wise. They fit well enough, when he puts them on. The old clothes are taken outside and thrown away.

By the time Daniel gets back from filling up the tank, Lucifer is sitting on the bed, legs crossed, the bedside table Bible open in his lap.