"This place reeks of magic, old and new. I can smell the spells she cast here. I can still see where certain ones worked, and ones fizzled out," Dean observed after they had settled for the night.

He looked at the walls of the cave where Erin had led them. Tendrils of old white magic danced along the walls, faded over time, but still there nonetheless. He wondered about her early years here. He wondered if she had been happy. She seemed happy now. Well, as happy as a woman who had been given three demon hounds to deal with could be, he surmised. He wondered what had happened in her life that she had ended up being raised by a huge fucking werewolf. That was unique, to say the least.

He glanced over to where Seth lay by the fire, snoring. Poor spoiled baby, Dean chuckled to himself, never could deal with a decent day's work. Always needed someone to take care of all the major issues in his life for him. Always needed someone to lead the way. Well, Dean mused, that was where he and Roman came in. They looked out for their baby brother. He sighed with grudging affection, even through the tantrums and posturing, Seth was worth it.

"I can see it too, bro. She's pretty powerful for one so young. She must be for her magic to leave such traces after so many years." Roman said, his voice was filled with slight admiration, "It's amazing how well she's taking this whole thing. I'd imagine that anyone else would have balked at the thought of helping out a few cursed demons like us. Especially ones who had just gotten into a fight with their," Roman hesitated for a second, "parent?"

Dean snickered at that idea. A fucking werewolf for a parent. The two couldn't be more different. The huge dark, brooding man and the pure angelic creature who now slept on the pallet by the fire. He pondered how they had gotten together in the first place. She did not seem too keen to share on that front, but Dean understood that. There were quite a few memories that he was not too keen to share about his upbringing. Maybe they were more alike than he thought. More alike than any angel and a demon should ever be.

She stirred fitfully. He contemplated if she was dreaming. He wondered what a beautiful woman like her would dream about. Would it be something good? With so much trust and openness, she must be inherently good. Especially if she offered to help them without a moment's thought of the consequences. It didn't matter that he knew evil magics also coursed through her veins, she seemed to be only decent and pure.

She started again, moaning in her sleep. Crying softly for someone to stop. Dean's shriveled heart clenched with an emotion that he had not felt in so long. He felt… sorry for her. He wanted to help her. Should he wake her from her dream? She seemed to be so uncomfortable there in her own nightmare. He understood nightmares, that was why he tried not to sleep half the time. Better to stay awake and keep the horrific memories at bay.

Twitching restlessly again, she groaned. Fuck this, Dean thought, he might not be a man anymore, but he still had some decency in him. He plodded over to where she lay and nosed her side gently, trying to get her to wake just enough to alter her dream.

His vision shifted as he made contact. Fog filtered through his brain as his whole being tilted. He was being pulled in to witness what was happening to her in her sleep. Touching her was a bad idea! A really fucking bad idea, he thought as he got dragged into some unconscious remembrance…

Her small head hung low as the nun berated her for her horrible work that day. Her lower lip quivered with fear and devastation at the words. Odd one, you are worthless to everyone who gazes upon you. The Lord above would not even save you now if we had not. You are a waste of life in that marked skin. You should not even breathe the same breath as those around you. You are nothing… less than nothing. You are an abomination…

She was standing in a kitchen then, cleaning the dishes for all of the convent. Her hands hurt from all the work of the day and the darkness had fallen hours ago. She was so tired. So very tired. She knew she must keep working or take the cane again. She didn't want the cane… anything but the cane…

She was tied to a bed, her tiny form dressed in threadbare clothes. Her whole body shook in fear, wracking with sobs as the nuns prayed over her body and spouted Latin verses to cleanse her. "Ut daemonium de cæce, munda abominationem hanc," they chanted stonily. Hot anointing oil was poured on her head, falling into her eyes and blinding her as a burning branding iron was touched to the soles of her feet. The pain shot up her legs and she screamed out in agony. So… much… pain…

Her covered body was aching as she made her way into the altar room. She wouldn't cry, she couldn't cry. She knew that would be bad. No, they told her no abomination should have feelings. No one with her past, her breeding, should ever have the right to feel things of the earthly realm. Her heart clenched in distress, she wanted to be free of this suffering…

Dean snapped his head back from touching her with a start. What the fuck was that? He could see where she was, such a tiny girl… were those memories? Those were some pretty fucked up memories if they were. Anger boiled in his chest, who the fuck were these people who touched this precious angel? What the fuck? She didn't deserve that! Fuck! No one did. Not even those in the underbelly deserved half of what they got, but this was an innocent girl… a fucking angel child on earth. They did that to a fucking child! Members of the clergy, those who spouted a love for a higher being, beat and tortured this innocent soul… he was fucking livid.

He growled menacingly low in his throat and Roman glanced in curiosity at him from his vigil over the cave entrance. "You ok there, Deano?" His low voice soothed Dean's anger for a moment. They were her recollections, he thought conceding to the situation, nothing could be done about that now. Dean looked again at her sleeping form. She seemed to be relaxed now, her thrashing had stopped, and her face seemed peaceful in calm repose. She really was fucking beautiful. He felt slightly guilty at accidentally looking into her dreams, but it's not like he meant to. How was he to know a touch would connect them like that.

He turned to Roman and gave a small huff and a shrug. "Just some memories, brother. Nothing to worry about."

Roman looked at him pensively for a moment then calmed. He knew more than Seth about Dean's past before they met up to become brothers. He probably figured it was just one of those days when Dean's memories haunted him. Tilting his head to the side he said, "You need to talk it out?"

Dean grunted at him, "No, just need to forget for a moment. Just need to forget."

XXXXXXXXXX

Baron looked down at the sleeping form of Becky. As far as conversations went, theirs had been… good he supposed. He had chatted with her more than any other person in his life, besides Erin. They started with a tentative truce after the party of four had departed for the cave. He tried his best to calm her fears that she was going to be murdered. As if he would, now that he found her he was never going to let any harm come to her. She seemed mollified by the fact that he gave her back one of her silver daggers for protection. He knew that he could easily take it back without so much as a snap of her wrist, but it was the pretense of defense that she wanted. He recognized that. He understood pride and her need to fight. She must have had a horrible experience if she spent her whole life hell bent on ridding the earth of his kind. She didn't open up to tell him what happened, but at least she hadn't shut him out.

He talked with her about his daily life, about how he didn't harm anyone who was good. He told her about protecting those in need. He even told her of his and Erin's life together. Well, what he felt comfortable telling her about Erin's life. He didn't mind sharing his secrets with the cinnamon smelling woman, but Erin's were her own to share, if she wanted.

Becky had shared a little information with him, after listening for a while. She still held a wary expression if he got close or tried to touch, but she stayed. And that? Well, he considered that a victory. She became exhausted far into their conversation. Her small yawns and murmurs causing his heart to wrench with a new feeling. Adoration? Tenderness? Dare he say it… love?

He watched as Becky's even breaths made her chest rise and fall peacefully. She smelled like mate. He'd never smelled that before in his life. He knew that he was destined for one, he knew all his kind were. He just never thought it would be a little spitfire of a hunter, he chuckled ruefully. Just as well, he considered, he needed someone to keep him in line. Erin did her best, but she was almost three and twenty, she should be living her own life, not dealing with his large, brooding ass.

He reached out a huge hand to finger the ends of Becky's crimson tresses. He wondered if she would ever accept him. She had spoken to him, though. That was good enough for now, he supposed. His heart sang at the thought of them in the future. He wanted a future. For the first time in his many years on this earth, he wanted something purely his. A totally selfish desire. And that was ok, he thought after a few seconds of running his fingers through her bright red hair, it was ok to want. His whole life was watching out for others, it was time for him to have his own.

XXXXXXXXXX

Bálor was restless again, he could feel it under his skin. He wanted an answer from their earlier conversation. He deserved it, if Finn actually thought about it. After all, they were in this together, he thought with an annoyed chuckle. Finn glanced around the empty corridor as he walked toward his mother's rooms. Bálor hummed with glee at their destination. He knew the demon wanted… he knew what the demon wanted. He heard a soft noise to his right and paused. Stopping in front of an open cell door, he glanced inside.

There in all her adorable glory was the beautiful cleaning girl. She was reaching high to wipe blood off of the chains that hung from the middle of the room. He knew that they had just finished a particularly good training session on the appropriate way to draw and quarter a victim. Bloody way to go, if you asked Finn. He grinned a blindingly toothy smile. Too bad he had missed the show, he thought, stroking his beard. He always did enjoy a decent bloodletting. Especially since he knew that she would be close to follow.

He watched in silence for a moment then entered the room softly, so as not to scare the girl. She seemed so intent on her job that she did not notice the new company in the cell. He watched as she bent low and dipped her cloth into water that had turned black and crimson from the underbelly filth. Finn enjoyed the view of her body as she bent and stretched. He wanted to touch, to run a long finger down that back. He wanted to feel the skin under those colorful rags. Shit, he wanted to fucking bite off the rags with his mouth and lick his forked tongue, up and down her toned figure.

She hummed sadly to herself as she rose again, on tiptoe, to wipe a link that had leftover skin hanging off of it. If he continued with these thoughts he would get himself in trouble. He cleared his throat.

Gasping she turned quickly and took in the presence of the Prince of hell. She quickly dropped to her knees and bowed her head, "My liege, a thousand apologies, I did not notice you there. Please forgive me."

"Tis a disgrace that one so… well, none o' that," he said gruffly, stopping anything else that might be so telling from coming out of his traitorous mouth. "You can rise now, Bayley. No need t' worry about me bitin' your head off," he chuckled. "Today."

Her eyes went wide at his words. Her mouth gaped open as she scrabbled for the words that he assumed, nay, hoped would come. "Uh, yes. Well, I apologize, nonetheless," she said quietly as she rose to her feet. Her hands flailed at her sides, revealing her nervousness at having him so close. She held a death grip on the rag that she had been using to clean the torture equipment. Her head stayed tilted down, as if looking him in the eyes would cause her to burst into a million flames. As if he would ever do that to her, he chuckled to himself. She was his favorite.

Bálor snaked to the front of his consciousness… "We could have her too, if you wanted. And I know you want. I can feel it, princeling. I know it all. There is nothing hidden between us two. Just find it and we can have it all…" His voice hissed and faded to a whisper. "All of your desires…"

XXXXXXXXXX

*A/N

Latin translation using Google Translate – Pardon any mistakes

"ut daemonium de cæce, munda abominationem hanc" – "demon get out, cleanse this abomination"