Castiel slowly pulled himself to his feet. The angel had no idea how long he was lying there. Maybe an hour. Maybe two. Who knew how far away Dean had gone by now? He tried to put weight on his leg and felt it tremble dangerously underneath him. He nearly stumbled and cursed Dean all the way. The demon was probably miles ahead by the high he was on from killing a human. His leg ached in pain and he stumbled towards the ruins of one of the two cars that were both smoking and full of the acrid smell of burnt rubber.

"Someone looks like they've been through a meat grinder. Twice," The voice made Castiel jump. Distorted as it sounded, it almost sounded like Dean had returned but then he detected the faint accent and the warmth that Dean seemed to lack.

Balthazar. The angel was a little taller than Castiel with spiky blonde hair. He was a bit older than Castiel in looks but not by much. He too wore similar armor except the edges of his was decorated with bronze. Balthazar was a few years Castiel's senior in paradise. He was among the first in creation after the Archangels though he had never attained that rank and more than likely never would. Balthazar was serious to a fault but he hated his superior officer more often than not for his own reason, usually always harping about honor. He was a field commander in every sense of the word. The go-to person when no General was available.

"Hello Balthazar," said Castiel, grunting as he struggled to stand up straight. But the angel placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back to lean against the car.

"What a mess here," said Balthazar, looking around. " It looks like a bomb went off here. What happened? Uriel explained that you were led to believe our prophesied child was in danger…and close by?"

"I fought a demon," said Castiel shrewdly. "and lost…and yes, I said that."

"That story had such a nice ring to it until the end," Balthazar mused. "Regardless. You should be happy. Apparently this mission requires the utmost priority. I got the cavalry coming."

"Define cavalry. You do realize we're dealing with the most powerful demon in the hell realm?" Castiel asked, bending his knee so the injury didn't hurt as much. Dean didn't just shatter his kneecap, he had torn the tissue in his thigh. And he had caught him off guard, succumbed to a forbidden kiss that should have never taken place. Castiel wanted to hit himself.

"Like I said, we got the cavalry coming," said Balthazar, though he didn't sound very pleased about it. In fact, he had made a face of disgust. "Yes...All's well that ends well when the 'backup' comes in. Is that correct human phrasing?"

Castiel looked at him very seriously. "Are you going through your 'cryptic' phase again?"

"No," Balthazar growled. He snapped his fingers and both cars disappeared leaving Castiel to crash painfully to the ground on his back.

"Not funny. This is all very painful for me," said Castiel, struggling back to his feet and grabbing Balthazar's offered hand.

"Bested by a demon a third your age, Castiel. Are you getting old?" Balthazar questioned curiously.

"It was that demon again?" A third voice joined them and Castiel was very suddenly pulled up to stand on his feet by none other than Uriel. Unlike his dream with the Anema, Uriel did not heal so well. Dean's afflictions were permanent, though he looked much better. A fraction of his left wing was missing and there were markings on his face where new patches of skin had tried to reform over the torn pieces. It was hard to look at without feeling a stitch in his chest. And it seemed like forever ago where Dean had done this to him.

A small white aura shrouded Uriel and Balthazar and Castiel was suddenly aware that he was the only among the three of them that wasn't invisible to human eyes. Oh well, he felt too tired to concentrate on keeping that spell up at the moment. If a human passed and saw him, wings tucked, he could merely assume he was crazy. Castiel wouldn't lose sleep over it...figuratively.

"That same one," Castiel replied after a moment, focusing on Uriel's eyes and not his grotesque features. He knew if it was him, he would detest the one who stared too long.

"There will be blood tonight, brother," said Uriel grimly, patting Castiel on the back. "We'll get this demon yet. I brought help this time. He won't escape our clutches."

When Castiel said that, he wondered vaguely how it would have been if Uriel had come with them. Well, first off, he'd share Merrick's view on the opposing race. They probably would have killed each other by now. And whereas Castiel did not like all of what Dean had done thus far, and didn't like Merrick at all, he wouldn't have relished killing either of them. Merrick moreso because it would anger Dean...not for any other reason really.

"That's reassuring, Uriel, thank you," Castiel replied remotely.

Uriel patted him on the back. "We'll get him. I brought us help."

In the form of a borderline rebellious Field Commander; Castiel eyed Balthazar and watched the angel approach the body of the dead girl that Dean had killed, collecting dust and debris from the wind.

" Looks like you had more fun than I thought on this mission, Castiel," Balthazar noted very seriously. He kneeled next to the girl, turned her over. "This girl's been tainted by dark Will. And drained of life. We need to purify her soul."

"Now why would we do that?" The three angels turned simultaneously and in the same unison, dropped down to their knees to kneel in respect(Castiel struggling more than the rest). Taller than all of them, the angel stood with blonde locks draped across his forehead that he nodded off to one side so they no longer covered his eyes. He had deep set brown eyes, a pointed nose and a very square jaw. Unlike Balthazar, Castiel or Uriel, this angel was not dressed like them. He wore a long black suit covered by a black overcoat that reached his ankles and polished black shoes.

"General, I had no idea you were coming," said Castiel to his good leg. "It's an honor to be in your presence."

The General waved a dismissive hand. "Let's skip out on the formalities. At ease, please."

The three of them rose with Castiel leaning on Balthazar for support. The General walked between them, eyes intent on the girl below. Castiel would have thought it was concern, but there was a strange type of malice glinting that he hadn't noticed before.

"If I had known you were coming, I might have better prepared my report,"

"There's no need for a report, Castiel," The General answered without looking at him. " I can surmise what happened here."

"That's good," said Castiel. Though he wasn't sure it was. The three angels backed away at the General's beckoning and he knelt down where Balthazar had just been,

"This girl was killed by a demon,"

"Yes," Castiel confirmed.

The general peered up at him. " and do we know what demon that was?"

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but the name died in his throat. The general wasn't known for his mercy. Not this one. Not with what the stories said about him.

He was waiting for Castiel to answer.

Castiel didn't know what made him do it, but he swallowed the name and shook his head.

For a long time, the General just stared at Castiel and then he saw a slow smile begin to spread. " Okay. Well there are other methods to figuring this out."

He turned back to the girl and placed a hand on her forehead. He imagined if the girl was alive, that hand would feel very cold. "Life lesson for you, boys. When a demon kills an innocent, it's a high crime. It's why you never see it happen. And let me tell you right now. It's never good decency that prevents a demon from killing a human. You know what it is? It's selfish act. Because we try to save them from their doom to hell through salvation and purification. But I understand now. Demons usually clean their messes up well...But not this one…and I believe it's high time, we played this fair."

They all watched with baited breath. Balthazar frowned and nearly seemed ready to turn away, one elbow resting on his palm with a hand covering his mouth in speculation.

"This demon was strong to leave such a lasting taint," The General noted, brushing the girl's golden curls aside and placing his palm flat on her forehead. Immediately, a fission of power left the General's hand and issued into the girl. Glowing gold and orange like a bolt of lightning. Her body quivered just a bit in response, showing life.

"Hold on a minute," Balthazar interrupted. "You can't resurrect a human killed by a demon. You know what that does to the human?"

The general shot him a look that said the answer was obvious. " What do you think happens? Have you seen it happen, commander?"

"She'll wake up a—" Balthazar began.

He was cut off by a loud gasp as the girl lurched forward and the general removed his palm from her forehead. Her eyes swiveled from each of them, dressed in strange attire and opened her mouth to scream.

"No," The General covered her mouth rather crudely and pulled her forward to sit up with his other hand. As the three of them watched, her features seemed to pale, her long blonde hair began to change in color to a bronzed color…her eyes changed to..

"One thing to note when a new demon is created through death, is that they take on some of the traits of the demon who killed them. So, pop quiz, Castiel, Uriel. What happens when you resurrect a human that was drained of life by a demon?"

Castiel didn't answer, none of them did, because the answer was obvious. Already the girl's body began to glow red as she unknowingly drew from the Will energy emanating off them: a demon's instinctual reaction to being threatened.

"No? Nothing? All right. Answer: A demon is created. Not just any kind of demon. Now, normally, demons are too stupid to create their own kind. You've seen the lot. Dumb as doornails. None of them know how to do it. But now the Imperial ranks. They know exactly how to create a demon. And they don't do it either aside from the obvious reasons of, oh I don't know, breaking the treaty and starting a war? But now, whoever made this demon? Stupid enough to leave the body intact and taint it with its power. So we're going to answer that demon's carelessness by giving him just what he wanted: a demon child."

"You just created a demon child," Balthazar remarked in disgust.

"No," said the General, holding up a finger to correct him. " I didn't. I just resurrected a human. How was I to know that it would create a demon child?"

He did know. That's why he did it. Castiel shared Balthazar's revulsion. But Uriel seemed to be smiling an ugly smile at the girl like he was ready to consume her.

"Fascinating thing about demon children," The General struggled to continue muffling her, and the sounds of the girl were almost palpable while she struggled to escape. "They're rare. And this one even rarer because she was a pure heart. Have you ever seen a pure heart demon? Wouldn't it be interesting to see how she turns out? I digress. The best thing about demon children is that they develop a bond to their maker. A bond so strong…You could call it a parent/offspring bond, even…"

Castiel's jaw locked. "General, if I may ask-"

"Yes, Castiel. I know just what you're thinking. The bond, as it were, is so strong that the parent demon feels whatever the child is feeling. No matter where he or she is. No matter what he or she is doing. It, I should say. Demons hardly classify to a gender, right? Those nasty little hellspawn."

"I can't believe I just witnessed this," said Balthazar, turning away fully, running a hand through his hair in frustration as though he wanted no part of this any longer.

The General ignored him and stood upright with the gasping girl beneath him, coughing and sputtering from lack of air. "And if we're lucky…This baby demon is about to call out to her parent through shrieks of pain."

The General drew out his sword and before Castiel could even stop him, a bolt of lightning issued from the tip and struck the girl dead in the heart. He didn't have to feel it to know she was in agony the way she began to writhe and scream, thrashing her body about. It was the most sickening sight and angel had ever been born to witness.

Far and away, the king had jumped far from where he left Castiel. He felt triumphant, but only a small pang of guilt for leaving Castiel behind. But he ignored that, set it aside. Once he had entered the town, everything felt easier. It was nighttime and the streets were packing with cars and the sidewalks crammed with people on their way from dinner or whatever business they were attending to.

It didn't take long for him to hail a cab, and while Dean was in the car, he ignored the sidelong looks he was receiving from the taxi driver. Dried blood covered him, most of it his own, some of it the girl he had killed. Now, that. He didn't feel guilty for. Desperate times called for desperate measures. But he did feel bad about leaving the angel with a body to purify and send into Heaven in such a weakened state. He probably passed out from the pain and left the girl there. If that was the case, a soul would simply do what most of them did, roam this world in half forms, shadows and spirits of what they once were. Ghosts were what the humans called them.

Rose Manor was at the very north most part of the city and it was the tallest building there was. Calling it a mansion seemed insulting but perhaps it was only because that was what Rose Manor originally was before it was "colonized". On the surface it came off as a white house-like home with tall white pillars and a huge angelic fountain in the front of cupid striking his bow from the heavens. But on the inside was quite different.

It was a fortress, more or less. A housing for demons and only one occupant could command such a number of one hundred demons in one location.

And her name was Lilith.

Once the cab stopped Dean off at the manor, it drove off in a hurry, no doubt feeling the negativity that came from the King. But he paid him no matter after leaving an unmarked twenty-dollar bill inside the seat. He had overpaid. But he doubt the driver would notice, nor would he even find his payment until much later.

Dean knocked on the door once and waited, leaning against the doorway as the double doors opened up.

Truly a beauty that would shame all men. And she knew it too. The depictions of Lilith being a monster were all false. Demon: true. Hideous: no. She had flowing black hair that would have reached her back if she hadn't had it styled to hide behind an eccentric golden headdress that matched the golden and black ensemble she was already wearing, a tight golden shirt that seemed to shimmer and a black skirt. Nothing normal. Lilith had always been a lover of the ages and it seemed she had recently taken a liking to the Egyptians.

When she saw Dean, there were no words, she gravitated towards him and took his face between her hands, planting a firm kiss on his lips.

"About time, your Majesty...I was beginning to think you would never show up," Lilith mirrored the King's movement, leaning against the opposite doorway. "Come along now...Let's get you inside. I'm sure we have much to catch up on."

"Darling," Dean replied, licking his lips and following her inside.

"Butterfly," Lilith cooed. She closed the door behind her and was approached by a black haired demon with red eyes and a long black dress revealing too much in the front. The demon eyed Dean up and down like he was something unrecognizable. "Eris. Fetch the King some water, please."

Dean meanwhile, took in his surroundings in full detail, he looked to find the ornate grand hall with Egyptian sculptures everywhere and a grand staircase that lead to two different directions, much like the Temple of Light. Though this was much more prestigious. She had carvings on the walls of ancient hieroglyphics that meant nothing to no one in this place.

Hardly a fortress, but Lilith was known for her deception. One could say she was the master of it. This may have looked like a pretty manor for a spoiled little princess, but it was far from it. And just as Dean expected, he could feel the power emanting from it like a beacon. This was most definitely a stronghold.

"Egyptian now, Lily, really. Do you ever stay to the current age?" Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"I stay to my strengths, just as you, your Majesty," Lilith simpered, gliding away from him to stand at the head of her staircase, past an enormous statue of King Tut. "The Egyptians were primitive at best, but known for their ferocious ways. I tend to take a liking to such ferocity. It's quite rare in this day and age."

Dean smiled, shaking his head. "My you haven't looked more beautiful than you do right now, l'amour."

"Flattery gets you anywhere," said Lilith, tilting her head to one side and seeming to close in on Dean with just a look. Her smile disappeared. "You're not here for me, though. You're here for your guardian and the boy...They're right here, your Majesty. They're upstairs. The boy has been asking for you nonstop since they arrived. I tell him you're on your way and his hope has died little by little. If it were not for your guardian, he might have found you himself...And I do think he would have succeeded."

No doubt that as an allusion to the boy's power.

"Lilith-" Dean began, holding up a hand to ready an explanation.

But she silenced him as one of Lilith's demons returned with a glass of water and presented it to Dean on a tray. He took it, eying her curiously as she walked away. His attention was diverted for a moment.

"Your demon does not acknowledge me as its superior," said Dean quietly.

"My demon acknowledges everyone as its superior but itself," said Lilith vaguely as Dean finished off his glass of water and handed it to her.

"Where's Merrick and Sam?"

"Upstairs, like I said," said Lilith, gesturing behind her freely. "You're free to see them, Dean. I only pray that you keep in mind our main goal."

"Don't talk about praying, Lily. It spoils your good looks," said Dean as he passed her, stroking the side of her cheek as he passed and headed upstairs, stopping at the crossroads between the east and west wing.

"East Wing. Third door on your left, love," Lilith explained, pointing to the right side.

He passed demons on the way, all of them looked at him with a blank lost kind of look. What was worse was that these were Imperial ranks and they looked like Dean did with human features. These hallways were lit and each room was empty, though each one was a decorated bedroom with silk sheets, all empty. He wondered why she needed all this space when none of her demons occupied them.

Dean found Merrick standing outside the master bedroom at the end of the hall. The demon greeted the king with a bonecrushing hug.

"Long time no see, your majesty," said Merrick, reverting back to the formal as he released Dean who didn't return the embrace. "You look well for nearly dead, even the void couldn't hold you."

"The void…," Dean repeated sharply. "nearly killed me. But at least you got out safely and with Sam in tow."

"With our lives," Merrick corrected. "We nearly died in there. The Anema chased us to the very depths of his mansion while you went and played hero."

The look he gave Dean implied he knew everything or at least knew enough.

Dean blinked and some of the anger left his eyes. " Your oath entails that in the event that I'm not present, You're able to make your own choices…Leaving me behind however was not something I thought you'd ever do, however."

He had said it before to Castiel that he commended Merrick for taking the initiative. But now, after everything... He had been so delayed on getting here from the battle with the Anema, to the car crash. And now without a doubt, Castiel was calling for his friends. Time was short, and though his wounds had completely healed, the ghost of that pain remained inside as a reminder of how horrific the last few unfulfilling nights had been.

Before Merrick could answer, Dean placed a hand on his cheek and gripped the other demon rather hard, pinching the skin between his two fingers. "How bad was the hell you went through to escape, my friend? Did the Anema nearly slaughter you? Poison your Will and direly injure you so that you had to murder an innocent of life and drain her life force to sustain yourself? Did you fight the angel you fought to rescue and have him force your hand in an injury? Did a car flip..." Dean rattled him just a little at the word. "with you inside it?"

" You put this mission over everything, your Majesty. What would you have done in my situation? You honestly think I would have followed you back to rescue an angel from death? If he got himself captured through arrogance, you think I was going to risk this war for him?" Merrick lowered his voice and leaned closer. "This may be our only chance to do this, sire."

"Is he inside?" Dean asked, looking past his shoulder.

"He's there. He's waiting for you. He's been asking for you. Asking whether you had died. I told him we would have felt it if you had," said Merrick.

"Hm," said Dean thoughtfully, releasing Merrick and turning towards the door. He eyed the door and then turned around and paced a few steps away from it. "It's now or never, Merrick. Now or never, literally."

"Don't tell me," Merrick murmured, watching Dean walk like a hawk. "You told the angel. Did I miss something? Where is he? Downstairs sipping tea with the first demon?"

Dean barely glanced at him as he passed. " A minor problem in entire ocean of it. I left him incapacitated miles away."

"About time you came to your senses..," Merrick paused, gauging Dean's reaction. "I meant that with all due respect, of course."

"Of course," Dean repeated, stopping at the door. "Okay. I'm going in, Merrick. Guard the door."

Merrick caught his arm. "You know he doesn't suspect you for a mile, right? He still won't. Use that to your advantage."

"I know what I'm doing, thank you. Now stay here and keep guard. If anything happens, Merrick," and this time Dean leaned towards him. "Do not come in the room. Get Lilith and assemble the army in Hell. Do not come back for me. If this boy kills me…Merrick, you have full command of the armada. We have to prepare for war. And we have to strike when they're the most vulnerable."

"They're never vulnerable. Sire, all you have to-"

Dean yanked on his jacket. "Listen to me. As your King, I command you. Take the army to hell and assemble. Prepare for war."

Merrick stared at him for a long moment, then finally he swallowed deep and nodded. "Yes your Majesty."

"Good," Dean drew close and pressed his lips very briefly to the demon's forehead. "Take care."

Drawing in a deep breath and exhaling, Dean walked in. As soon as he did, he ignored the lavish gold surroundings, the master bedroom in every sense of the phrase. All he could focus on was the child that jumped off the bed and bounded towards him with his arms open ready for a hug. He caught Dean around the middle and squeezed hard.

"Dean! Dean! Dean! I missed you!" Sam cried out, squeezing tighter and speaking muffled into the folds of Dean's clothes. " Don't do that again. I was so worried about you. Merrick kept saying you would come back. Where's Castiel? Wasn't he with you? I'm sorry. I'm so sorry we left you there. I wanted to come back for you. I told Merrick you'd come back and you did. I'm so happy you're here Dean. Don't leave me again, please, please, please. "

"I'm fine, Sam," Though Dean wagered his appearance via clothing and skin tone didn't say it. His flesh felt strangely dry with blood caked on it. He returned the tight embrace however. "I'm just fine."

Sam looked up at him, resting his chin on Dean's jacket. "Are you sure? You were gone for so long."

"I know...But I'm here to keep you safe, Sam. It's not safe here. It's not safe anywhere...But tomorrow, I'm gonna get us out of here. We can't make a home out of this place, all right?" Dean knelt and took Sam by the shoulders, rubbing them firmly. "I promise to keep you safe. You remember that? I'm not going anywhere now."

He pulled Sam into his arms and took him over to the bed where the demon sat, holding the boy for the longest time. The demon's eyes seemed to take on a certain lost look. He rocked Sam gently to sleep. Rocking back and forth...trying and failing to keep his mind blank. His mind was blank when he killed the girl; he had deliberately made it that way. Because killing was something you couldn't afford to dwell on.

"Sing me a song, Dean," Sam yawned, laying his head on Dean's lap.

And there was no way to tell. That this was the greatest threat known to man. The boy certainly didn't know it. He was just a boy who was unluckily chosen by fate to bring about destruction that he could never truly understand.

And he had to kill him. Because he was a political figurehead for Hell, controlling a realm that couldn't think for themselves without a leader. It was a foolish notion to want what was best for Hell when Hell was a chaotic realm to begin with, created in the image and despair of an angel scorned as punishment. Hell was punishment all around, but without balance, without the hell realm doing what it was meant to do, they were exactly what everyone else expected them to be.

A warring nation bent on destroying heaven and failing.

He had to kill this boy to end this war. To stop several from happening in the wake of it.

There was so much love in Sam's expression just now. It was the worst thing to see before ending a life.

But it was impossible to do this now. Not while his mind swirled with thoughts and words.

Dean stared forward at the carpet, letting his vision begin to blur with the inner corners of his eyelids beginning to prickle. Slowly, a hand released Sam to reach behind him. He took a hold of the hilt of his sword and felt his fingers coil painfully into the steel until his palm turned red from the pain. This was the best way, wasn't it? He would never see it coming.

"Dean," The voice of his Father echoed strong and true in his mind. "Keep this as a life lesson. To love is to be weak. Never hold an attachment to anything other than yourself. Not me, not this throne you will one day attain. Nothing is worth destroying yourself over. Once you let love consume you, it will never go away."

He couldn't think now. Not with these words in his mind. Dean let the boy fall asleep on his lap and covered his face with a hand. He should do it now. Now and no other time. Now or never. Now or never. Now or never.

"You're our savior. As a token of my gratitude...I, the demon will grant you one wish."

Now or never.

"I want you to stay with me."

"Be my friend. Stay with me forever."

"There's no real reason to deny you."

"So you will?"

"Nothing more needs to be said on this, Sam. I say yes. I'm here now."

"Did you break my talisman, Dean?"

"...With me around, nothing bad is going to happen to you."

"Sam, I made you a promise to stay with you forever. Do you ever think I'd go back on it?"

"No...I don't think that."

"Good. Then, do you trust me?"

"I trust you, Dean."

"Has it occurred to you that this boy loves you? Has it occurred to you that an attempted assassination by you of all people might just drive Sam to be the one thing you hope he doesn't become?"

Now or never.

His eyes closed as the last tear drop fell in the boy's hair, unseen and forgotten. Very slowly, Dean's hand unclenched from the sword and his hand dropped loose by his side. Not now. Never this life.

Just as Dean began to face the gravity of his decision. He felt a steady sting on the back of his head like something had pricked him. He didn't even have time to make a sound before a searing, white hot pain exploded inside his mind out of nowhere. Dean's lips parted in a soundless scream as he lurched forward.

"Dean?" Sam raised his head and watched as Dean continued his fall, sliding off the bed, holding his temples with both hands. "Dean! What's going on? Dean? Dean? What's happening to you? Answer me!"

"Fuuuuck," Dean gasped. The pain overshadowed everything, pounding like a battering ram and pulsing like a heart. All of his thoughts became jumbled, spreading out like a tidal wave being forcibly split. A new image came forth, but it was only a flash. A lonely side of some dirt road that looked vaguely familiar. Then the pain returned in full force.

"Merrick!" Sam screamed in desperation. Sam swam out of focus for Dean, and all he could see was the occasional, deep blackness that began to dwarf his mind. "Merrick! I can't help him! Something's wrong. Help him!"

The sound of a door being blasted open was barely heard for Dean as he fell backwards onto his back. He couldn't fight it. Summoning up all of his Will, it only seemed to drain it. He had enough of that. No, he had to go back. Whatever it was had put it in him.

Merrick's hands were too warm on his wrists as he pressed down, seeming to hold Dean in place.