Lucifer watched the young librarians gather around the laptop, speculating on possible scenarios. "So MUCH they still don't know" he mused, wondering if it would be worth it to volunteer the information they still needed. This version of the Triad was so different, he wondered how they would react to knowing some of the "other" events that eventually led them to this point in time. "And, of course, there is the issue of Seraphiel" he mused, wondering if Michael would bring up THAT subject.

Across the room, Rowan's breathing had begun to grow ragged as she drifted further into the nightmare realm. All around her was darkness with faceless voices screaming at her from all sides. She crouched in place, trying to get her bearings in this unnatural world, attempting to hear what messages the voices might be sending. "They're too loud" she whispered. "Stop screaming – I can't understand you!"

"Don't listen to them" a soft masculine voice whispered in her ear. The accent was mellow and soothing, an Irish tinge reminiscent of the people she had known when she had visited Belfast. "Ignore them - they haven't anything to say you need to hear. This isn't reality, girl, this is a dream. Nothing in this place can hurt you but everything here can kill you."

"If it can't hurt me then how can it kill me?" she asked, annoyed.

The voice laughed softly, a soft puff of warm breath lifting her hair. It smelled of whiskey and scented woods, pleasing yet just acrid enough to be remembered. "There's my girl – always asking questions. Ask that sod of an Archangel more questions, girl. He's not told you everything. Neither of them has. Ask Michael why you and your brothers were estranged. Ask him about Lyrae, ask Lucifer about the Goddess and how this all led to your battle against Azazel."

"Why should I listen to you?" she asked, suspiciously.

"Because I'm your guardian, your teacher and your móraí. I am Seraphiel."

Seraphiel. The name rang through her mind like a bell, bringing up snippets of memory, memory that didn't belong to her and yet did. Scenes of running through an obstacle course with live ammo firing above her head with someone besides her urging her not to stop, not to panic, to just plow through. Music, a violin, Gaelic songs playing in a shaded grove with that same accented voice teasing her about worrying too much about her cats. A presence comforting her when her world seemed to crumble around her. "Móraí" she muttered, gripping the chair tightly as she kicked off the blanket, trying to break free from the darkness.

Arthur looked over, hearing the distress in his sister's voice and knelt down, running his fingers gently over her forearm. "Sissy?"

Rowan's eyes shot open as she all but leapt from the chair, rolling to take the same positon she had been in during her dream. Her sword appeared in her hand as she took a fighting stance. "Don't touch me!"

Arthur fell back, scrambling to get on his feet. "Rowan! Stop!"

Michael leapt from the stairs, his dark wings unfurling as he landed between the siblings. "Miri, stop!"

"Get back from her, Michael" Lucifer snarled, suddenly inserting himself into the mix. "We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't decided Metatron was right – that she and her brothers were nothing more than tools to fight Dad's wars."

Khan, awakened out of a restless sleep, rose up on his knees and ignoring the coming war behind him crawled over to Rowan, eyes fixed on hers. "Hey, it was only a dream. No need to skewer anyone over a dream."

Rowan's eyes fixed on the monk, frowning. "A dream?"

"Yeah, I have it all the time. Dark place, screaming voices, someone trying to talk me down from the ledge." He shrugged, his robes rippling as he did so. "Same old, same old – nothing to get too wrecked about."

The dark haired woman took a deep, ragged breath and willed her sword back to its place of concealment. "Seemed so real."

"Okay – now I'm a little scared" Arthur said, glancing back at Jenkins. "Have you been having the dream he described or is this the first time?" He brushed past Michael as though the archangel was not even there and helped his sister and the monk to their feet. "A dream about a dark place where people are screaming but you can't make out what they are saying?"

Rowan and Khan blinked, looking from Arthur to each other. "First time but it's a pretty standard nightmare – right?" she asked, shrugging.

"Not really" Arthur admitted, somberly. "Because I've been having it too."