Azazel was the first of the two to wake. He usually was, since John was still human and technically still needed as much sleep as he could get. Admittedly, it wasn't very hard for either to fall asleep after a while of living in Hell, it was staying asleep that was the problem. The demon opened his eyes slowly, expecting to see his flames in the darkness of the pit due to the warmth he could feel around him. However, he was met with an unfamiliar dimly lit room. It was mostly empty, the only furniture being a vaguely human-shaped table in the center of the room and a rusted shelf in the far corner of the room. The sounds of chains hanging and clashing could be heard in the distance, but nothing else. Extending a hand, Azazel felt the tile floor he and John were sleeping on. It was cold, almost freezing. But then why was he warm? Right. He was wearing John's flannel. A soft smile formed across the demon's lips as he came to terms with the situation, a noticeable weight becoming present around his waist. He turned to face the man behind him, sighing as he felt John's arm move to rub his back. Azazel noticed the two were dressed now. Not sure when that happened but to be fair he wasn't really paying attention after the events of the previous day. He remembered falling asleep and being warm, which could honestly be due to many other factors, but he thought it was mainly because of John. The hunter had wanted him dead for years, so this was most likely a temporary thing. Right? Azazel shook his head, placing it under John's chin while his hand pressed against the other's cheek. The hunter opened his eyes with a gasp as if he was hurt, looking around the room for the source. Luckily, Azazel wasn't in the mood for being subtle since he was happily giggling at the other's reaction.

"Good morning Johnny~"

"Why are you so cold?" John sat up, eyes examining the room before him before returning to the demon who was currently making him colder than the floor. Weren't demons supposed to be hot? Isn't that why they're-

"Not all of us are scorching hot, well, I'm not at least. Prolly because my father liked me," Azazel chuckled, pushing himself up onto his elbows before sitting up. It finally dawned on John that he was now alone with the thing he sold his soul to. He shivered, blaming it on the lack of heat from both the floor and the demon before standing up to examine the room further. As he walked, John felt a pair of eyes following him. He looked over his shoulder and sure enough, Azazel had climbed onto the table to watch the hunter, legs swinging as he smiled back at John.

"Y'know where we are?" He asked in an effort to break the silence. The demon shook his head, laying down on the table.

"Probably in Hell if I had to guess."

"Wow, how observant you are!"

A mischievous giggle slipped past the demon's lips as he moved his hand towards the shelf decorated with bottles in the corner of the room. In an instant, one of the small glass bottles was in his hand as he examined the old label. Holy Water. Azazel's smile dropped as he realized where they were and what he had been assigned to do. Purgatory. Torture. He was to make John into- The prince shook his head, clearing his mind as Azazel turned to face the concerned hunter.

"Hey Johnny, could you throw this stuff on me? I need to test something." He'd have to be at least a little nice to John if they were going to stay here for a while. Might as well get to know each other while they're at it. A small nod from John was all he needed before he waddled over to the hunter, pressing the bottle into his hands with a happy bounce. Curious, the other went to read the label but was pulled by the smaller demon towards the table as if it was forbidden knowledge.

"It'll be a surprise for at least one of us," Azazel mused before sitting on the table, legs swinging as he waited for John. The hunter opened the bottle timidly, half expecting it to explode. When it didn't, he looked at Azazel and splashed a little bit of the liquid on the demon. When nothing happened, he threw more to yield the same result. Nothing.

"What's in this Az? It's not doing anything" The hunter turned the bottle in his hands, looking at the label now that Azazel couldn't stop him.

"It still works!" The demon, completely oblivious to his hunter, was clapping happily on the table, legs swinging in joy as his eyes turned bright yellow.

"HOLY WATER?" John dropped the bottle, glass shattering across the tile floor as he rushed to check on the prince, concern plastered over his face. He quickly wiped the water away before stepping back and placing his hands down on the table, trapping the now confused and blushing demon in his place. Azazel giggled, arms resting on John's shoulders as he leaned away from the hunter to think. He could either tell the hunter what was going on or, the prefered option, leave him to wonder. Besides, it's not like he was worried about Azazel because he was splashed with Holy Water. No, it was purely because John threw it on him by his own request. Nothing more.

"I'm alright, if that's what you're checking for," the demon muttered, letting his hands fall back onto the table while looking down at the glass on the floor.

"Why didn't you react? Isn't that the tell-tale sign that someone is possessed?" The hunter bent down to gather some of the larger shards in his hand, a few of them moving on their own as Azazel tried to help him clean the floor. He didn't know why, but something in John's eyes had softened him.

"Usually yes, but dad liked me and that's all I've been able to gather about it. As far as I know, I'm the only one Holy Water doesn't work on." Good job on the suspense Azazel. You really had him captivated there, the man was almost on the edge of his seat! The prince rubbed his arm in defeat, moving his fingers to twirl a small orange flame around them. He played with the fire, making it twirl around the leg of the table and towards the corner where John had gotten comfortable. A quick flash in front of the other's eyes and a glare was shot the demon's way, a smile spreading across his lips while the flame bounced across the floor.

John shifted his attention to the other bottles lining the shelves. Some of them were poisons. A lot of them were Holy Water. The flame had decided to bother the hunter as much as possible, hiding in the corners of his eyes and dancing around his shoes before he looked over his shoulder to see Azazel still on the table, a small pile of ashes growing next to him. John had picked up on some of the emotional patterns of the other's flames. Yellow fire meant he was happy, orange fire meant playful or upset, red fire meant anger or passion, embers were still ambiguous, but ashes were new. Interesting. He'd have to remember that. A small hitch of a breath echoed throughout the room, followed by the sound of fabric frantically being waved. John whipped around to see Azazel flapping his hand in the hunter's flannel, a bit of smoke coming off of it.

"What did you do?"

"None of your concern Johnny, focus on your bottles over there."

Azazel was looking at the buckles on the table, seemingly glaring at them before laying down. He pushed the ashes into the floor as he did so and covered his eyes with one arm. Maybe he could get a little shut-eye while John looked for a way out of the room that willed itself into existence. The demon was trying to avoid the inevitable, having to torture John into becoming like him. It made the creature shudder, shaking his head and letting his other hand fall over the side of the table. Maybe Meg would notice he was gone and come looking. She knew the grounds well enough. She knew him well enough. The memories of their travels invaded his thoughts, bringing a soft smile to his face. Then his son came to mind. Tom had never taken to him or his sister. Always trying to stay in the background. It reminded Azazel of himself. In an instant, his mind brought him back to the pit. Back to their first meeting. He'd never seen more powerful souls than theirs, and they had never seen anything like him. Azazel still had wings and a halo when he first met Meg and Tom. Well, not fully, but they were still a part of him. The demon shook his head, half-functioning wings closing around the two souls that came to him for comfort. That was right before he-

A small tap on his shoulder shook Azazel out of his trance. The demon looked around, eyes searching for the person he knew was in the room with him. Wait. A bright blue sky greeted the demon from above, soft grass ripped from the ground in his fists. This wasn't Hell. He was up top. Azazel stood up slowly, tying John's flannel around his waist before taking a step forward. There was a small dirt road ahead, and with it a worn down house.

"Johnny?" His shaky voice carried across the road, invading the house in front of him. A quick flash of light caught his attention as the prince's eyes moved to the right. That was… that was John's car. Where was he?

"John!" He cried out desperately, taking a few shaky steps forward as his mind began to swirl with thoughts. Before Azazel had time to question anything further, the ground beneath him began to shake. It cracked and popped as heat moved up to burn the bottoms of his shoes. The demon ran towards the house, the cracks following him the whole way as the ground began to shake more. Just before he reached the door, the field gave out, sending the demon falling to the ever-growing heat. His eyes were wide with panic, limbs flailing as he desperately tried to stop his descent. As he tried to fly again.

"Azazel!" The prince heard a familiar voice falling with him and opened his eyes, unaware that they had closed. He was met with the image of a blonde girl, short hair hastily cut and oil-like black eyes filled with worry. Beside her, a boy with a blurred face, but noticeable brown hair being swept away into the Empty. His children taken from him without warning in a twisted version of his descent into Hell. It wasn't fair. Azazel shut his eyes again, covering his ears with hurried hands as his body started to shake. This was a dream. It had to be. He just had to wake up. The heat rushing past the demon as he fell changed his mind, choosing to open his eyes once again. Instead of seeing Meg and Tom, he was met with the worried eyes of John. The demon was on the floor now, a rough pair of hands on the sides of his arms to keep him from flailing.

"Azazel? Are you alright? Was it the holy water?" The hunter started checking over the other, looking for any type of injury to use as a cause for the event that just occurred. The demon shook his head, wiping tears that threatened to fall before John could see them. He was still shaking, large piles of ash surrounding the demon as he tried to make sense of the situation. Was Meg in danger? How long was he out? Why was the impala in his dream? It didn't make any sense. More importantly, why was John so concerned? The prince looked over at John, yellow eyes vacant as the man stared back before moving to stand.

Without thinking, Azazel lunged forward and wrapped his arms around the hunter in front of him, stopping the other in his tracks as they both fell to the ground. He held on tightly, burying his face into John's shoulder as another wave of tears threatened to spill.

"Are you gonna tell me what happened or do I have to guess?" The hunter rubbed a hand up the other's cold back, shivering at the contact as Azazel basically crawled into his lap. A small shake of the demon's head and a soft whine was the only response he got. The two stayed in that position for an unknown amount of time, Azazel's shaking coming to an end as his breathing leveled out. The demon's grip on the hunter had loosened significantly, arms now relaxed and eyes no longer watering. His face was still buried in John's shoulder, the hunter's eyes focused on the shelf. For once, Azazel pulled away first, scooting away to lean on one of the table's legs.

"I had a nightmare, don't know why it set me off though," The demon lied, knowing full well why the scene terrified him. Even though he had nightmares frequently, it was mostly about his time in Heaven. They had never included falling since he usually woke up before that could happen. The thought made him shudder again, his knees coming up to touch his chest as Azazel wrapped his arms around them. The hunter nodded, a sense of unease lingering in the back of his mind as he got up to look at the table. He ran his hands over the belts, noticing the placement and various sigils that were meant to keep something in place. Maybe he could convince Azazel to let him test out their use. It would give him some time to figure out a way to escape while keeping the other in the room. However, he'd also have to deal with the prince's comments and whines. But he'd also have to deal with those if they were both going to stay in the room. Speaking of the room, it had gotten significantly colder now that the demon was awake, he may have to steal his flannel back since the t-shirt wasn't doing a very good job of keeping him warm in Hell of all places. It was weird. He knew the cloth would be cold from Azazel's body temperature, but it would be better than freezing to death in the hottest place one could be in. Well, maybe not to death per say but the expression still stood. John sighed and walked back over to the shelf, patting the prince's head as he walked past. The action earned a small smile from the other, turning his attention away from the dirty floor and back to the equally dirty hunter. As quietly as he could, Azazel walked over to sneak up behind John, placing his cold hands on the nape of his hunter's neck.

"Wanna see a magic trick?" The demon asked as he leaned up to the taller man's ear, sending a shiver down his spine. In all honesty, he was just trying to get information out of John about what happened while the demon had dozed off. It just came with an opportunity to annoy and inconvenience the hunter as well. The piles of ashes around the room already gave him a clue, however.

"No thanks Houdini, I've seen enough of your magic today." The hunter laughed as he splashed some more holy water onto the demon, earning a whine and pout in response. It was still something he was getting used to, joking with Azazel instead of fighting. Maybe he could rule the demon up again before he tried out some of the other contents on the shelf. Or maybe he could-

A sharp twinge of pain in the hunter's throat caught him by surprise, causing him to grab at it out of instinct. Azazel, while John was distracted, had apparently attempted to warm up the hunter by almost setting him on fire. Noted. In an instant, the hunter had the prince pinned to the wall, Azazel giggling like a kid on a sugar-high the whole time.

"You felt a lil cold, thought I could help ya out but someone decided to ignore me," the demon smiled as the hand around his throat tightened before John dipped down to pick him up. He was thrown over the hunter's shoulder and placed on the table before he could register what happened, already being strapped to it by John. An irritated whine escaped the demon's lips when John was finished, trying to wiggle out of the bindings he was placed in. The hunter leaned over the table, placing his hands on either side of the demon's head as he leaned down to whisper in his ear, a wicked smile present on his face.

"So honey, about that nightmare?"