Pamela had assured him that he would be able to start walking on his injured leg within another week or two but Samandriel wasn't finding that very comforting at the moment. Being able to walk didn't make him feel any better about having his one real talent - being a soldier - taken away from him. What was he supposed to do now?

Have a guard follow him around like he was a helpless child, apparently. That's what Michael wanted, anyway. As though Crowley or one of his minions would walk right into the castle and attack him right under everyone's nose. He was safe enough in the castle. Nothing was going to happen.

You didn't think anything would happen during your patrol either, an unfriendly voice in his head reminded him. Samandriel pushed it away. The patrol was different, he assured himself. It had only gone wrong because they hadn't been properly warned. Nothing like that could happen inside the castle walls.

Samandriel sighed, gingerly moving his broken right leg so he could sit up on the side of the bed. He didn't want to become a recluse, stuck under a self-imposed restriction to stay inside the castle, where it was safe. He didn't really want to leave it either. And he didn't want a bodyguard.

He wanted Crowley and whoever else was involved with what had happened to him dead. Maybe he'd talk to Benny later, ask him how many of them he'd killed in the fight that had to have preceded Benny taking Samandriel away from the cold stone building that he'd been kept in. Benny might end up thinking he was a morbid and sadistic bastard but it might make Samandriel feel better. Why should he care what a Purgavain exile thought about him?

Someone knocked on the door and Samandriel spared a moment to ponder on how strange it was that people seemed much less likely to simply barge in now that Samandriel wasn't capable of getting up to open the door. He wondered if he could hold onto things well enough to turn the doorknob anyway.

He decided to hold off on finding out for awhile.

"Come in," he called, not caring who it was. There were guards in the hallway, no one was going to turn up that wasn't supposed to be there. Michael had probably put extra guards out there too, just for him.

It was Gabriel who opened the door, looking withdrawn and shifty. It was a strange expression on him. Castiel had told him about Gabriel's involvement with Kali and Samandriel was observant enough to notice that Michael's ensuing anger hadn't died down.

"How are you feeling?" Gabriel asked as an awkward conversation starter. He hadn't come to see Samandriel since he'd gotten back; they'd only seen glimpses of each other in the hallways.

Samandriel shrugged, reaching down to scratch around his bandages. Pamela claimed that it was a good thing that the injuries were itching and it meant they were healing, but Samandriel wished he could just skip that particular step of recovery. "I'm better than I was." Not that it was likely that he could possibly be worse than he had been and still be breathing.

"Good," Gabriel said, nodding and looking anywhere but at his little brother. "That's good." He sighed and ran his fingers through his light hair, tangling it up at the ends. Samandriel had never seen his hair mussed like that before.

Gabriel looked at him at last, eyes a little wider than would be strictly normal and his face much paler than Samandriel was accustomed to. "I didn't tell Kali anything, Samandriel. I swear."

His voice was desperate and pleading, breaking over the words and Samandriel swallowed over a suddenly painful lump in his throat. He hadn't spared much thought to whether or not Gabriel was truly responsible when Castiel had told him, preoccupied by his own problems and bad memories. "I know you wouldn't do that to me," Samandriel said at last, hoping Gabriel would let him leave it at that and they could stop talking about it.

Gabriel shook his head. "No. I don't mean I just didn't tell her anything I shouldn't have, I didn't tell her anything. I don't know who was involved in… in what happened, and, as much as I want to, I can't promise that Kali didn't have anything to do with it, but any information anyone got they didn't get from me. I swear."

It was somehow much harder to believe that Gabriel had said nothing at all than it was to believe he simply hadn't meant to. Maybe a part of Samandriel wanted to blame him. It'd probably be easier than blaming someone who was miles and miles away and practically untouchable.

Gabriel was standing in front of him, however, eyes pleading Samandriel to believe him, to not give him the same look Michael had been shooting his way for weeks now.

Samandriel nodded. "I believe you. It's not like it was some big secret that I was taking a patrol to the border. Anyone could have told… whoever it was they told." A thought occurred to him then and he tilted his head, looking up at Gabriel, wondering what his brother would say about his new theory. "Or maybe the border skirmishes were the plan all along. Cause enough fighting, one of us was bound to go investigate sooner or later."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Who wants to know about our military defenses that badly?"

"Maybe Lucifer wasn't the only one who wanted a war."

"Samandriel, you can either be cooperative and get a say in who your bodyguard is or you can continue to be a childish brat and I can assign you someone who isn't going to let you get out of bed in the morning. Your choice."

Samandriel crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his older brother. "I don't need a bodyguard, Michael. I can't hold a sword, I can only hold reins in a loose grip, and I'm still walking with a heavy limp. What exactly is it you think I'm going to be doing that I'll need a bodyguard for?"

"I'm not going to argue with you, Samandriel. You're getting a bodyguard whether you like it or not. The only thing you have any say in is who it is and you're about to lose that too."

"Fine," Samandriel relented sulkily, purely because he knew Michael wasn't going to give up on this no matter what argument he was presented with. It wasn't in his nature. "I don't want one of my soldiers."

"Really? I thought one of them would be your first choice."

"I'm not going to be followed around by someone I used to train with. Nothing about that sounds pleasant."

"All right. Who do you want?"

"I don't know. There's plenty of people I don't want, but…" Samandriel shrugged. "As long as they're not insisting on coddling me you could give me Lafitte for all I care." It had seemed very important just a minute ago that he have a say in who his bodyguard was; now it seemed like a moot point. What did it matter? Whoever it was, Samandriel would be just as helpless.

Michael was looking at him thoughtfully. "That isn't a bad idea."

"What?"

"Having Lafitte be your bodyguard. You can keep an eye on each other. He's already proven he's a good fighter, and, provided he isn't lying, will risk his life to help you. Keeps him here, keeps you safe, doesn't cost me any men." He nodded to himself. "I think that will work out very well."

"Do I get a say in this?"

"You said you didn't care," Michael said, standing up and making to leave. His tone said that the conversation was over and his mind made up.

"Michael!"

"Decision has been made, Samandriel. Would you like to tell him, or me?"

Samandriel glared at him, considering making Michael tell him to be difficult, but decided that wouldn't be fair to Benny. "I'll tell him."

"Good. I expect to see you in each other's company from here on out." Michael turned on his heel and strode away before Samandriel could say anything.

The prince huffed and burrowed himself into his chair, scowling. At least they'd had this meeting in his room so he didn't have to leave before he was good and ready to. He knew he was pouting, but couldn't bring himself to care. He'd earned a little pouting.

He couldn't sit in his room and sulk forever though, however nice it sounded sometimes, so he eventually pushed himself onto his feet, setting his right leg on the ground gently, testing how much weight it was willing to hold up.

He limped his way out of the room and into the hall. He considered going to get Benny himself, but his leg was aching already and he hadn't even started traveling. He called over the nearest guard instead. "Tell Benjamin Lafitte to come here, would you?" The man nodded and turned to go. "Tell him to just come in when he gets here."

He shut his door behind him and collapsed back into his chair, rubbing his leg. He didn't have to wait long before he heard a polite knock on the door for formality's sake and then the click of it being opened.

"Hi, Benny," Samandriel greeted, not bothering to force a smile the way he did whenever his siblings visited. It was refreshing. "How have you been?"

Benny shrugged. "My head's still attached so I don't think I get to complain much. Not the most exciting thing, sitting inside a guarded room all day, but there's worse things."

Samandriel wondered if Benny was really as laid back as he sounded or if he just thought it would be wise to not complain about his situation. The latter seemed more likely, but he hoped it was the former. He didn't like the idea of being followed around by someone who hated his situation.

"What did you need me for?" Benny asked, getting to the point.

Samandriel sighed. "Michael thinks I need a bodyguard and he has decided that you're currently the best option."

Benny blinked at him, confusion slipping over his features. "The king wants me to be your bodyguard?" He sounded like he thought Samandriel was playing a joke on him for some inexplicable reason.

Samandriel nodded. "He says you would be the most logical choice, because it wouldn't lose him any soldiers and he could keep an eye on you."

"What do you think?"

Benny's apparent sincerity caught Samandriel a little off guard. "How nice of you to ask. Michael just sort of ordered it."

"Didn't give you any say?"

"Not much of one. Michael isn't big on listening to the opinions of others once he's made up his mind about something."

Benny nodded in understanding - real or faked Samandriel didn't know - and gestured towards another chair, silently asking permission to use it.

"Go ahead," Samandriel told him. "If you're going to have to follow me around for the next who-knows-how-long I'm not going to force you to stand all the time." He pointed to a door on one side of his room that led into a servant's room that hadn't been used since Samandriel was old enough to dress himself. "That's where you'll be staying. If you need anything just let me know. And you can go to the blacksmith to get a weapon. It's fine if you need one made. One of the guards can show you where it is. I'd go with you, but…" He gestured to his leg.

"Still hurting?"

"I can limp around now, but I've done enough of that for one day." Now he got to spend the rest of the day sitting around and staring at the walls in boredom.

Benny nodded and stood up again. "I'll go there now then. I'll be back soon."

"No rush. It's not like I'm going anywhere. You don't have to wait for my permission to come in, although I would appreciate you announcing yourself."

"Of course." Benny left the room and Samandriel leaned back, idly wondering how willing Benny would be to go on pointless horse rides with him once his leg was better.

Dean had been hesitant about the Purgavain who walked into his smithy asking about battle-axes for approximately five minutes before deciding that the man made for excellent company.

"So, Prince Samandriel's bodyguard? How do you feel about that?" Dean asked as he sharpened the axe blade.

Benny shrugged nonchalantly. "There's worse people to be stuck with."

Dean laughed. "That's for sure. Prince Samandriel's a pretty down to earth guy. Although I can't imagine he's taking not being able to fight very well."

"Can you blame him? From what I hear it used to be his life. Now he can barely leave his own bedroom without help."

"He's always been really independent too," Dean agreed. "Not the type to use servants for much."

"They all seem a bit…" Benny seemed to consider his words carefully. "Different, I suppose. From what I'd expect from royalty."

Dean nodded. "King Michael has always been very duty-bound and regal and Princess Anael fits the part of princess as far as I can tell. The rest of them though…" He shook his head with a chuckle. "There are times I'm amazed that some of them could possibly be nobility."

"You're not from around here, are you?" Benny asked suddenly. "Your accent isn't Edengardian."

Dean shook his head. "Moved here about… I think it was six years ago? My brother Sam and I are from Humaear originally. Got lucky one day and met the old blacksmith while he was there on business. Offered me a job as his apprentice. The two of us moved here, Sam got a job as a clerk in the castle, and we've been here ever since."

"You like it?"

More than you can know, Dean thought. It occurred to him that Benny was probably asking because he had very suddenly left home and was now stuck in a strange country, working for a strange prince. "I do," he replied honestly. "I've been homesick on occasion, but there really wasn't anything there for either of us by the time we left."

"No family?"

"Not anymore. Mother died when we were young, father drank himself to death… You?"

"Not anymore." Benny left it at that. Something about how he said it told Dean that he'd give up more if pressed, but would prefer if Dean didn't press. So he didn't.

"Here's your axe," he said instead, handing it over.

Benny took it with a smile. "Suppose I'd best get to work then."

"King Michael probably wouldn't be thrilled if you put it off. But feel free to come by and keep me company. Gets lonely in here sometimes."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Benny left and couldn't have gotten even to the end of the hallway outside before Castiel entered and shut the door firmly behind him.

"Wow, Cas," Dean drawled, "that's awfully forward of you. It's not even dinner time yet."

Castiel glared at him, though it lacked any real heat. "Were you and Benny getting along?"

"We were." He grinned mischievously, stepping up so he was only a few inches from Castiel's face. "Are you jealous?"

Cas scowled. "No. And that's not the point."

Dean stepped back, still smiling. "So what is the point?"

"Samandriel. Do you think he's safe with Benny around?"

"Do you?"

"I don't know, Dean. That's why I'm asking you. You are generally a good judge of character."

Dean shrugged one shoulder. "Seems nice enough. Doesn't seem the type to plot an assassination."

"I'm serious, Dean!"

"So am I!" He relented at Castiel's dubious look. "Okay, so maybe I'm not entirely serious. But, come on, if I thought he was a danger to you or your family do you think I'd keep that from you? Hell, do you think he'd have made it out of this room?"

Cas sighed. "I suppose not. I'm worried, Dean. Samandriel isn't dealing with his experience very well. He claims to be, but he's not. And if Benny proves to be lying Samandriel could get hurt again. Or worse."

"I don't think Benny's lying, Cas. And even if he were, he wouldn't dare hurt Samandriel right in the middle of the capitol city of Edengar. If he's lying then he's smarter than that."

Cas gave a reluctant nod, not seeming at all reassured. "I suppose that makes sense. It's just-"

"He's your little brother, I get it. I wouldn't trust a stranger around Sam after something like that no matter how upstanding he seemed. It makes sense for you to be suspicious."

Cas nodded again, more confidently this time, and stepped closer to Dean, who was only too happy to put his arms around him and pull him close. He kissed Castiel's hair, gently. "It's going to be okay, Cas. Somehow, I promise, everything will be all right."

Cas just tightened his grip. "I hope so. Everything has been so difficult the last few months. Lucifer, our father, Samandriel, and now Michael has declared war on Purgavai and Hellacia without making sure that Humaear will assist us." His forehead came to rest against Dean's shoulder. "I wish things could go back to how they were before."

Dean said nothing, just began to rub reassuring circles into Castiel's back.

The door opened again and the two of them sprang apart, immediately doing their best to pretend they had been having a perfectly normal conversation that had absolutely no touching involved in it whatsoever.

Just their luck, the man who entered the smithy was King Michael himself, the one person who would consider it very much his business what they were doing as well as being furious about it if he ever found out. Dean saw Castiel fidget nervously out of the corner of his eye.

"King Michael," he said, nodding his head respectfully, hoping to keep the King from suspecting anything or asking awkward questions. "How can I help you?"

The man looked between him and Cas with narrowed eyes but said nothing. "Have you met Benjamin Lafitte yet?"

Dean nodded. "Yes, your majesty. He actually left here just a few minutes ago. Prince Samandriel had sent him to get a weapon."

"What did you give him?"

"A one-handed battle-axe, sire."

"That's what he was using when we first met him," Castiel offered, apparently unwilling to stand awkwardly on the sidelines of the conversation. Dean could pinpoint the exact moment he reconsidered drawing attention to himself. "I - I came in to…"

"To have a dent in his armor fixed," Dean finished, inwardly wincing at the look he received from the king, who was undoubtedly wondering why Castiel had been unable to finish his sentence himself.

"All right," Michael said slowly. "I don't want you giving Lafitte any other weapons without express permission from Prince Samandriel or myself. Is that clear?"

Dean nodded. "Perfectly clear, your majesty."

The king nodded once, satisfied, and turned to Castiel. "I'd like to talk with you about Humaear. Ambassador Kevin is waiting in my meeting room."

Castiel nodded and followed his brother out of the smithy.

Within approximately thirty minutes of Benny returning with an axe in one hand Samandriel had decided that having a bodyguard was an extremely uncomfortable experience. Samandriel had spent most of his time since getting back to the castle sitting about and staring at his ceiling, but there was something supremely awkward about doing that with somebody watching.

And it wasn't as though Benny had anything else to do, unless he wanted to go into his room, and then they could awkwardly sit about doing nothing without being able to see each other.

Samandriel sighed, fidgeting a little. "Do you - I don't know, want to go get some books or something?"

Benny smirked. "Bored?"

"I usually spend most of my time in the training yard." Samandriel looked towards the window, though he was too far away to look down on the soldiers he knew were out there. "Or, you know, I used to."

Benny stood up and went to look out the window himself. "Never been much for fighting myself."

"Really?" Samandriel found that hard to believe, looking up and down Benny's muscular frame and at the axe that fit in Benny's hand as though he'd been born with it there.

Benny turned his head to look at him with a thin smile painted on his face. "Being good at something isn't always the same as liking to do it."

"What do you like to do then?"

Benny let out a sad sigh and his eyes looked off at something that wasn't there. "Used to have a fiancé and a bakery. Wasn't real big or anything, but it got us enough money. And I liked it. My father had always wanted me to join the army, taught me to fight. I was going to, but then I met Andrea." A nostalgic smile had appeared and Samandriel regretted his next question before he even asked it.

"What happened?"

"Don't know for sure. I went out to visit a friend, came home, and… Andrea was dead. Shop was burned to the ground." He shrugged, trying to pretend it hurt less than it did. "Been wandering aimlessly around Purgavai ever since."

Until he'd found Samandriel beaten half to death in a never completed stone building. Samandriel shuddered at the blurs of memories he had of the place.

"You all right, little bird?"

Samandriel looked up at the repeat of the term. "You're still calling me that?"

Benny said nothing in response, but his expression just dared Samandriel to protest it.

Samandriel rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. You're the one telling the heartbreaking story."

"Happened a few years ago. I've learned to deal with it. You only went through hell a few weeks ago."

"Don't remind me." It came out as an order and, though it hadn't been intentional, Samandriel didn't regret the tone. He didn't want to talk about it. With anyone.

"If you say so. You said something about books?"

Samandriel had almost forgotten. "I did, didn't I?" He pushed himself out of his chair, ordering Benny to back off with a glare when the man moved as though to help him. "Let's go to the library then."

They left the room at a slow pace, Samandriel doing everything in his power to keep his head up and shoulders straight despite the limp. It was improving again, but he didn't know how long that would last. The pain seemed to rush back without any sort of reason to it. Benny, to his credit, didn't try to help him again.

It didn't take long for the two of them to pick up a few texts each, but Samandriel collapsed into a chair before they left. "Give me a minute," he said, pressing his fist into his right leg in an attempt to loosen the muscle.

Benny nodded and didn't offer to help him stand, apparently noting the 'don't-fucking-touch-me' note to his tone.

"Is everything all right, your highness?" a different voice asked. Samandriel looked up to see a clerk at a worktable a few rows away, looking at him with concern. Sam, he thought his name was.

He nodded. "I'll be fine, thank you for your concern." He didn't really feel terrifically grateful, but he didn't want to talk to - well, to anyone. He'd put up with Benny, to keep Michael off his back, but that was it. At least Benny seemed to understand when Samandriel didn't want to talk.

He groaned and stood up again a few minutes later. "Let's go."

He limped his way back to his room, Benny walking just half a step behind him.

Ambassador Kevin was relatively small and young for his position, but he made up for it by his absolute refusal to be intimidated by anyone. He and Crowley had nearly had a few serious altercations when they crossed paths while both in Edengar, which Castiel was now almost grateful for. It seemed to be making the war a more personal matter for the man.

"I don't care about anyone's personal feelings towards Queen Lilith or King Richard," Michael was saying, which Castiel thought was a bit ironic. The declaration of war had come from personal feelings, after all. "I want to know whether or not Queen Charlotte is willing to help us."

Ambassador Kevin didn't look happy about having been interrupted or at Michael's disrespectful tone, but he simply nodded. "She is willing. When I left she was already beginning to assemble her armies and sending them to Humaear's border with Purgavai. The only thing she asks in return for our help is that you send us men when we need them, just as we will send men to you."

"Of course," Michael said, and a skeptical part of Castiel wondered if he really intended to use his own men to protect Humaear. Sometimes Castiel wasn't convinced that Michael and Lucifer's beliefs had truly been so different. Just their choices.

The two men, plus Commander Zachariah and Advisor Naomi, launched into a discussion of communication methods, how many men they needed, and where to send them, and Castiel slowly tuned them out.

There was no reason for him to be there that he could see. He was proficient enough when it came to strategizing, but no more so than Michael and Naomi, and certainly less than Zachariah. And they hadn't even asked his opinion on anything. Mostly, he'd just sat next to Michael and observed.

And worried. Michael had very nearly walked in on him and Dean being considerably more intimate than Michael would ever consider appropriate and Cas had yet to be reassured that he hadn't seen enough to be suspicious. The fact that he hadn't said anything meant nothing, Michael was good at keeping things to himself until it suited him to mention it. He had once blackmailed Anael for three full years, threatening to tell their father that she sometimes liked to dress in commoner's clothing and sneak out to the village alone, anytime the two of them disagreed. She had grown out of that, Castiel was fairly sure, but Michael hadn't become any less shrewd.

After the Gabriel and Kali debacle, Castiel had only grown more convinced that Michael could never find out about him and Dean. At best, Dean would lose his job and be sent away; at worst the blacksmith would be executed and Castiel would end up in the same situation Gabriel was in now - not allowed to leave the castle and regarded with suspicion from virtually everyone.

The current heir to the throne was still slinking around guiltily, despite his insistence that he hadn't actually done anything wrong, but was finally starting to buck under the pressure. Castiel was fairly certain that was the reason behind him being here, rather than Gabriel, who would make a great deal more sense.

The meeting ended at last, with a heavy implication that Michael's day was far from over, but Castiel was allowed to leave and he made his escape before Michael could change his mind and call him back.

As much as he wanted to return to the smithy and visit Dean again, he didn't dare. If Michael had become suspicious upon walking in on the two of them earlier he would likely have somebody watching the smithy to confirm or deny those suspicions. He may even go himself. And Castiel was only too aware that he and Dean were not gifted when it came to lying while being questioned directly.

So instead he made his way through the corridors until he found himself standing at the door to Gabriel's room. He sighed, and knocked.

"Come on in," Gabriel called out at him, and Castiel let himself in.

"Hey there, little brother!" Gabriel said once he saw him, words sounding like something he would have said before Samandriel's disappearance, but his goofy smile didn't touch anything apart from his mouth.

Castiel nodded a greeting. "Hello, Gabriel." He shut the door behind him and moved to sit in one of Gabriel's many too-large chairs. "How have you been?"

Gabriel shrugged, going back to looking out the window as he had been before Castiel entered. "I'm all right."

"That did not sound very convincing."

The sigh Gabriel let out could have started a war all on its own, it was so full of anger. "I don't want to talk about it, Castiel."

Castiel's eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. "You don't want to talk about what?"

Gabriel looked over at him with an exasperated expression. "You're a real pain in the ass sometimes, Castiel. You know that?" He ran his hands through his hair, coming over and taking a chair across from Castiel. "Are you doing something you're not supposed to be doing with the blacksmith?"

Castiel lurched in his seat, going ramrod straight instantly. "Wh-what? No, of course not! What would we be doing?"

Gabriel raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I'll take that as a yes. Don't worry, your secrets safe with me. I like Dean, and I trust you not to go spilling court secrets to him."

The words, despite being friendly, felt like barbs to Castiel. I trust you even though you don't trust me, they whispered in between syllables. He hung his head in shame. "How did you know?" he asked in a small voice.

"Kali mentioned seeing you visit there a lot. I suspected. And once I suspected it wasn't very hard to confirm it." He smiled at Castiel and it put a mischievous glint in his eyes this time. "You aren't a very good liar, you know that?"

Castiel sighed. "I don't know how you and Kali managed. At least no one pays attention to Dean."

"Kali is a master of sneaking around and keeping secrets."

"Like Samandriel?" He did his best to keep his tone neutral, not wanting to antagonize his brother, especially now that he knew the man knew his secret.

"I still don't believe she had anything to do with it. Crowley was there, right? Doesn't that mean Hellacia was probably in charge? There's nothing to say that Kali knew anything, other than Michael's paranoia and trust issues."

"Careful. He is the king, in case you'd forgotten."

"Trust me, I hadn't."

There was silence for a minute before Castiel asked, "Are you in love with Kali?"

The look Gabriel gave him was so bittersweet that Castiel's heart dropped into his stomach. "I am. Not that it much matters now. I'll be lucky to ever leave the castle again. Forget ever seeing her again. Not going to happen."

How awful would that be, Castiel wondered, being forced away from the person you loved without even believing there was a good explanation for it? The idea of losing Dean in such a way made his stomach twist.

"What did you tell them?" Michael was shouting now, and Samandriel was flinching as he pressed himself as far back in his chair as it was possible to get.

Michael hadn't asked him much about what had happened during his captivity, and when he had he'd been gentle about it, recognizing when Samandriel didn't want to think about it and backing off. Tonight, though, something seemed to have set him off.

He'd come barging through the door, causing it to hit the wall with a crash loud enough to send Benny to his feet, one hand going to his axe before he realized who it was. Now Michael was shouting right in Samandriel's face, demanding to know everything he'd told Crowley and the other men. Samandriel's eyes had flickered over to Benny more than once, silently wishing for help but knowing there was nothing the man could do against the king.

"Samandriel! I need to know what they know and I need to know now! What did you tell them?"

"I don't remember!" Samandriel pleaded for the third time that night. "I can't even remember many of the questions they asked!" It was true, if Samandriel had talked it had been while he was too far out of it to know what was coming out of his mouth - much like with the fish comment he had apparently made to Benny.

"I don't care if you don't want to talk about this, Samandriel," Michael said, placing his hands on the armrests of Samandriel's chair, penning him in. His voice had gone low and threatening, which was a hundred times more terrifying than his yell. "I need to know. What did you tell them?"

"I. Can't. Remember." Samandriel was doing his best to keep the quiver out of his voice, afraid Michael would take his fear as an indication of a lie. "I barely remember anything. If Crowley hadn't been there at the very beginning I wouldn't even remember him. I can't remember what they asked, and I definitely can't remember if I answered." His heart was beating so fast he almost couldn't hear himself speak over it.

Michael pushed away. "Damn it, Samandriel." He turned his head so they were making direct eye contact that Samandriel didn't dare break away from. "If I find out that you're lying to me, there will be consequences." He headed for the door. "If you do happen to remember something, come tell me immediately."

"Yes, sir," Samandriel said a fraction of a second before the door slammed shut. His voice was quiet and he could feel himself beginning to shake. He hated the feeling. He'd never been afraid of Michael before, he'd always been confident that he could hold his own if he ever had to. Now he couldn't.

"You all right?" Benny asked, hovering several feet away, concern on his face.

Samandriel buried his head in his hands in lieu of responding. Benny didn't touch him, but Samandriel could sense him coming closer, stopping just an inch or two away and crouching down. "You can't expect everything to go back to how it was before, little bird." His voice was soft and reassuring and Samandriel wanted to scream at him to go away and leave him alone because he didn't want anyone to see him being so weak.

There was a stretch of silence where Benny waited for a response and Samandriel refused to give him one, and then the older man sighed. "Prince Samandriel."

Samandriel reluctantly looked up, feeling as though his head had gained several pounds. Benny never spoke to him so formerly, only referring to him as 'your highness' or 'prince' when they were somewhere where someone might overhear. Benny had been his bodyguard for approximately a week now, and Samandriel was finding that he enjoyed the older man's company more than he was willing to admit.

Benny met his eyes. "You need to stop pretending that nothing is wrong. You're hurting yourself."

Samandriel let out a bitter laugh. "I think someone beat me to that, Benny."

"You can move on from them. It'll be hard as hell, no argument there, but you can. But not if you're pretending that there's nothing for you to move on from." Hesitantly, Benny set one hand on his knee, tightening his grip just a little when Samandriel didn't pull away. "You have to help yourself. No one else can do it for you."

"What exactly are you expecting me to do?"

"To stop lying to yourself. And to stop telling yourself that you're weak for having a hard time coping with being tortured."

Samandriel did pull away then, standing up and walking around, ignoring the twinge of protest in his leg. It wasn't nearly as bad as it had been even a few days ago. "You're telling me I'm not being weak? You don't see my siblings spending all day cowering in their rooms because they don't want to talk to anyone. You don't see them starting to shake because somebody said something they didn't like. You don't see them-"

"You don't see them being tortured," Benny interrupted. "Samandriel, I saw you in that church. Before your brother found us. You know I cleaned you up a bit in between? When I got you out of there you were drenched in blood. Your own blood, Samandriel. And you were still bleeding, but you were in such bad shape I couldn't tell where it was coming from. One of your injuries on your arm went so deep that I could see your bones once I cleared the blood away. You were tortured. You're not supposed to be okay."

Samandriel, wanting Benny to be quiet already but not wanting to have to start yelling, threw himself down on his bed, burying his face in his pillow and telling Benny to go away. The words may have been too muffled for Benny to understand them, but he was confident that he got his point across.

Benny didn't heed them, however. Samandriel felt the bed go down a little as Benny sat down beside him and he heard him sigh. "You're one stubborn bastard, you know that?" It sounded almost affectionate.

"I'm a prince!" Samandriel told him. Belatedly, he realized it probably came across overly petulant since he was still speaking into the pillow.

Benny chuckled. "I know. But you're still human, little bird."

Samandriel shifted around so he was on his side and facing Benny. "Tell that to my brother."

Benny looked towards the door the king had walked out of a few minutes prior. "Is he usually like that?"

"He convinced our father to banish our brother a few months ago," Samandriel said for a reply.

"I heard that Edengar had a banished prince."

They sat in a companionable silence, not moving, for a while longer.

"Benny?" Samandriel asked at last. "After your fiancé died and everything, did you… Did you have nightmares?"

Benny gave him a knowing look and nodded. "Still do, sometimes. I've even had them about you, once or twice."

"Me?"

"You know how many times I thought maybe I was too late to help you? That I was going to have gone through all that but the only thing I'd be taking back to Edengar would be a bloody corpse?"

Samandriel swallowed hard and tightened in on himself. "Didn't think about that."

"I try not to." One of Benny's hands reached out. It stopped a few inches away as Benny silently asked permission. When Samandriel didn't speak or move, just kept watching, he brought it lightly down onto Samandriel's head, lightly brushing through his hair. "Don't worry, little bird. I'll be here if you need me."

It was comforting, even though it came from a man Samandriel had known for a fairly short amount of time. He shut his eyes, falling asleep to the sensation of Benny's fingers carding through his hair and the comfort of having another person so close.