Sam lays his arguments on the table, counterbalances every point with proof, with sincere belief. He may be a demon, the boy king of hell himself, but he is also wise and he knows his people, knows humanity and knows angels. So he argues, because he knows that his very kingdom, his race, depends on removing the antidote from their poisoned domain – the angel's voice, it's grace, had to be exhumed.

Uriel's dark disbelief rained down on the king of hell, and Sam wondered if this emissary would even carry his request to the host.

"You wish to anchor one of the Father's messengers to the earthly plain." The voice rings through him and Sam feels the blood flow from his ears, sees his servants run screaming from the sound of it. He spits black venom into the light of the angel when he replies.

"My brother carries angelic grace even here in hell, and your brother carries Dean with him, even though they are separated..."

"Castiel is once more with his kind, heaven has accepted him..."

"Yet he still carries Dean with him." Sam insists. "One cannot hold the other and yet have that other walk free of taint – they are both infected with their lover."

"Do not speak of their time there." The light thunders. "Their time was damned from the moment humans sought to cage my brother, to force him together with your reptile of a consort and on into sin."

Sam bristles at the slight of incest, he may be a lot of things, murderer, torturer, sinner, demon...but he has never sinned in that way, and never will.

"Castiel was weak without our protection." Uriel booms and Sam detects a hint of compassion there for the stained angel in the garrison – the broken and scarred comrade infected with emotion.

Sam almost pities Castiel that compassion – how it must burn for him to feel weak.

"It was not weakness that saved his life." Sam points out, doggedly. "He loves my brother, and to you that is abominable...to me it is impossible, because I have known my brother for so long, and love has never been in his nature...you've seen that nature reflected in your angel..."

"Cruel, desirous, vicious, blood thirsty..." Uriel spits.

"But dishonest? Disingenuous?" Sam wheedles.

Uriel is silent.

"Everything he gave your brother he gave of himself. Dean has given, freely, for the first time in hundreds of years...and if he says he loves this angel, then he does...and they should not be apart."

"What you ask, is not only blasphemous, it is akin to Lucifer's folly." Uriel growls. "Do not summon me again..."

"I will fight you for this." Sam declares. "There is an angel in heaven who bares my brothers mark, and if I have to summon them all, if I have to launch holy war and rain hell down on your heads...I will find him."

Uriel's light flares and Sam's eyes burn, forcing him to look away.

"I wish your brother death for what he has done to mine." Reverberates around the room as the light vanishes.

Sam drops to the rock floor and clenches his heart around the misery he feels for Dean. Then he stands and lets out the cry to summon the demons, throat opening and black smoke pouring into the chamber through him as he calls his forces from the deepest pit.

Boy King he has been made, and a war he has declared.

He intends to fight one.

Dean feels the summons and struggles with it, knowing that Sam does not want his presence amongst the ranks. He can infer what it is in aid of, Sam must have attempted to negotiate with heaven.

Castiel must be back home.

God it tears him up inside to know it, to almost feel the glacial cool of the host against his burning demonic essence. Castiel is so far away, too far away from him.

He sits in the darkness of hell and listens to the battle cry, to the war as it builds around him.

Castiel's brother's will die, Sam might die.

Dean lets the angel shriek out, feeling the rage of the host and of the demons coursing through him, as if he is their battle ground.

Castiel feels the war churning in the bowels of hell, the connection he shares with Dean beams it to him like a mushroom cloud, the oncoming storm

"Uriel..." he whispers, and his discordant voice agitates the host like a furious bee held in a glass.

"Brother, we will not surrender you." Uriel stands beside him, preparing his grace for battle.

"But I want to go...I could go to him." Castiel almost breathes, trying to hide the sound he makes when he thinks of Dean, the low note of hell in his tones.

"They are demons Castiel." Uriel intones angrily. "They would tear you to pieces just to watch your grace burn."

Castiel feels his heart ache in denial. Dean knows it would not be so – but Castiel...

Castiel doubts.

And Dean feels it.