Warnings: Violence and angst.

Notes: A big thank you to Kiss316 who as always is magnificent as the beta reader supreme! And another thank you to those that take the time to review. It helps me stay at the computer and write.

Legend Killer Chapter 18

It was afternoon as the carriage and its accompanying riders were making good time as they journeyed south towards Helena. A large brute of a man known as 'Ryback' rode in the lead, keeping his horse at an easy jog so he wouldn't get too far ahead of Hunter and the others. He was a new guy in the area and none of the others had worked with him before. He looked impressive as hell, a solid block of muscle and sinew, bald with bad teeth. But to those who knew better, despite the bounty hunter's intimidating appearance, he was still merely a human. There was nothing supernatural about him. However, in his favor he wasn't quite as sociopathic as Kevin Owens. Ryback had yet to actually say anything beyond a few grunts, but after a day or so of enduring Kevin's snide comments, Ryback's menacing silence was greatly appreciated.

Jamie Noble and Joey Mercury rode behind the carriage, alert and with one hand near their weapons. They had proven their loyalty to Hunter despite having fought for the Confederacy. As a reward, they were to be Seth's personal bodyguards. After what happened to Shawn, Hunter decided that his new heavenly envoy needed more protection. The two men had heard about how close Shawn and Hunter were, but they hadn't had the chance to meet the charismatic mayor before the Saint offed him. Since this was the first time either of them had met an honest-to-god angel, they were in awe of Seth and very proud of the trust Hunter had shown in them. They had vowed that nothing would get near Seth without going through them first.

The young man that used to be Deputy US Marshal Seth Rollins rode his horse beside the Judge's carriage. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were curled into a smirk of derision as they made their way through the rugged hills. The angel had never been to earth and it couldn't even begin to compare to heaven. Earth may have held its own rugged, primitive beauty but Seth was not impressed. He shifted in his saddle, still getting used to his mortal body taken from the unwilling Rollins.

For a good cause, of course.

Guilt wasn't something the angel knew or understood. Guilt was a human emotion and the angel was a higher being, one of the chosen. He had been sent to the human's realm to help right a wrong, to neutralize a threat to heaven. That was much more important than the single human soul he was holding captive. If the soul of the young man whose body he occupied was in distress, helpless against the angel's possession, well the angel wasn't going to worry about it. Besides, angels were much more important than humans in the grand scheme of things.

"For now, you'll be the Sheriff of Helena," Hunter was saying to him.

"Don't he need to be elected for that, boss?" Jamie asked, scratching at his head.

"Let me worry about that," Hunter said, annoyed at being interrupted, but Jamie did have a good point. Hunter would have to abuse his authority to pull it off but he had no doubt he could do it. He turned back to Seth. "That way you will have access to all the information about the Saint's activities."

Nodding, Seth tried to keep up. He had to rely on the humans for the details about the ins and outs of living on earth, which was irritating but he could live with it. Rollins' memories were surprisingly very helpful and though he could feel Rollins' agony when he violated those memories, the angel was indifferent to the damage he was causing.

"And we'll be your deputies!" Jamie told him, chest puffed up like a banty rooster's. "You won't have to worry about a thing! Joey and I will take care of any problem humans."

"I don't care about humans," Seth sniffed. "I'm only here to bring the Saint of Killers under control." The wielder of Death's Sword (now guns) was more of a threat to heaven than it was to hell and earth. Rollins' memories of the Saint, especially its last terrifying appearance when Ambrose killed Barrett scared the shit out of the angel. The Saint's control of his power was dramatically increasing and if he wasn't put in check soon... Though he would never admit it to the humans, Seth hated the Saint of Killers with a passion borne of fear. It was terrifying that someone who was not the Creator could wield that kind of power.

"Be that as it may, but since your plan to bring the Saint under control is by killing his men, that leaves us humans to deal with demons," Hunter reminded him. For now he would treat Seth very cautiously until he could get a better feel for the angel's disposition. Already Seth seemed more driven and fanatical than Shawn. Shawn was willing to work with the Hunter and other humans to a certain extent. He had allowed Hunter to hold off having the Saint's men killed in order to give them time to take care of the more troublesome demons. It had been Shawn that made the agreement with the Nexus. Personally Hunter hadn't been all that happy about working with them. Though they were occasionally useful, demons were very hard to control. They were good for keeping Orton and his men's attention, but Hunter was far too smart to ever trust them, despite what his father-in-law said. Too much carnage attracted unwanted attention. Only the threat of the Saint of Killers truly kept them in check. And that meant keeping Randy alive.

But Seth might not be so willing to listen to reason. He tried to explain to Seth the bigger issue. "The trouble is that demons always want something more, usually human flesh and blood. People dying draws attention. We need to be discrete or there will be trouble from more than just the Saint's men. We can't afford to have the Pinkertons sticking their noses into our business. So if we want to keep this under wraps we need more control over the demons."

Shrugging, Seth shifted in his saddle. "That's your problem, human. If I remember correctly, you already have humans that can deal with demons. Or you would if you got over your prejudices and stopped killing them."

Oh, that hurt. Hunter knew Seth was referring to the ongoing persecution of the natives. But that situation was out of Hunter's hands. The federal government had an army that needed to be kept busy and because the natives had the gall to object to the theft of their lands and identity, they were the perfect targets.

"What about the Beast, boss?" Joey asked. "How are you going to control that?"

Even Seth looked interested in the answer to that question. Everyone had heard of the Beast. In heaven there were whispers of its power and brutality, enough to make an archangel pause. Despite his show of bravado, the Beast had genuinely scared Shawn and he made sure to always go through Heyman when he needed to communicate with the Beast.

That question had caused many sleepless night for Hunter. He knew that killing a couple of humans wouldn't slake the Beast's thirst for blood and destruction. To Hunter, there had been only one real solution to the Beast and he had already acted on it. "I sent word for Heyman to send the Beast north to the Nations where Orton is hiding. Between the natives and their magic, the Beast will have enough to keep it occupied until Orton kills it. With luck, it will do quite a bit of damage up there," Hunter shrugged. Sending the Beast after Randy would accomplish two things in Hunter's mind. First, the Beast would die, which was best for all parties. The Beast was too powerful for anyone to truly control. Heyman was their best bet, but even that lowlife lawyer's influence over the Beast was iffy at best.

And second, it would teach Orton that there was no sanctuary for him, anywhere. Shawn's death hurt Hunter deeply and he wanted to make sure Randy paid dearly for that by destroying anyone who offered succor to the Legend Killer. The earth spirits that protected the natives' land were no match for the Beast. Maybe even as little as ten years ago, the Natives could handle the Beast, but not anymore. Most of the old shamans were dead and the younger ones simply weren't powerful enough to take on the Beast. No, the Beast would destroy more Natives than the army. And Randy would understand that he was the cause.

The angel cocked his head to the side as it sorted through Seth's memories, ignoring the bright flare of pain he inflicted on the captive soul. "That may not be the case," he said, indifferent. "After Ambrose murdered Batista, the Saint of Killers stopped answering them."

That got Hunter's complete attention and he sat up straight. "Oh really?" That piece of news changed everything. Balor might succeed in killing Ambrose after all. "But the Saint protects Randy like no other," he said. "Did he abandon him for sure?"

A pause, then Seth nodded. "He's ignoring Randy."

Pursing his lips, Hunter immediately started revising his plans. If the Saint truly abandoned Randy, then there would be no one to hold over the Saint of Killers. That would be bad for all parties involved. Earth needed Randy to kill demons; Heaven needed him to control the Saint. And if Balor killed Ambrose and the Beast killed Randy?

Shit.

"I'm beginning to think killing Reigns wasn't such a great idea," Jamie observed to Joey in a low voice.

But Seth heard him and turned in the saddle to speak to him. "Roman Reigns isn't dead," he told them. "Randy and John Cena got him to the doctor Mark Calaway who saved his life. The doctor hid Reigns away."

That was an unwelcome bit if news and Hunter cursed under his breath. Not that part about Reigns. Reigns being alive meant there was at least one person who could kill demons if the Saint decided to come back, which was great. He wondered how he could make a deal with Reigns. His eyes slid over to Rollins. Yeah, there was something he could work with there.

But if there was anyone he did not want involved in his affairs, it was Mark Calaway. He didn't know what it was about the man but instinctively he knew that Mark was not a person to be trifled with. And if he was involved with Reigns and Orton, that meant he was involved in Hunter's business. Annoyed, Hunter started to make plans to deal with the wayward undertaker.

"Boss, riders comin'." Jamie said, looking behind them. In the distance, they could make out three riders, leading a fourth horse that was carrying something over its back. "Looks like Balor and his little buddy. Oh, and Owens," he added with a lack of enthusiasm. He had hoped that maybe Ambrose would at least be kind enough to get rid of that asshole for them. No such luck. "I don't see Sheamus," he reported. Sheamus was a braggart and a blowhard but even that was better than Owens.

Hunter pulled the carriage horses to a stop and they waited for the group to catch up to them. With Balor still alive, it looked like Seth was correct about the Saint abandoning Ambrose. After a few minutes, Hideo and Balor pulled alongside them, Hideo leading Ambrose's mustang. Owens rode past them to take the measure of Ryback, who glared at him. Ambrose's horse was carrying a body with a blanket thrown over it. Tufts of reddish-blond hair stuck out from under the edge. Hideo sidled his horse up and pulled the blanket aside. They could see the limp body of Dean Ambrose.

Dean's face was colorless, eyes open and staring. He was dead.

"Good job," Hunter stated with no small amount of personal satisfaction. Demon killer aside, he had never liked Ambrose. The man was insubordinate and unstable. And after Batista, Hunter's dislike for Ambrose grew into hatred. Ambrose had cost Hunter the best human ally he could hope to have, and one of his only friends.

The only reason Hunter had kept him around as long as he had was that Ambrose had his uses. The lunatic was as tough as nails, never one to back down and never gave up in a fight. Pairing him with Seth was a stroke of genius on Hunter's part. With Seth's stabilizing influence, the duo became a major force in Hunter's arsenal against the Saint's men. But in a rare case of misjudgment, he had added Reigns to the group and then it all went to hell. Reigns had the nerve to start asking questions, and the other two had backed him up. That had led directly to Hunter's rash decision to send them after the Wyatts, inadvertently giving the Saint two more men.

But it had worked out in the end. Now Ambrose was dead, and Seth was Hunter's most powerful ally.

"Thanks," Balor replied tightly. Hideo dropped the blanket back over Ambrose.

Though he had looked directly at Ambrose's body, Seth never once reacted. Puzzled, because this was the person whom Dean had been so adamant they rescue, Hideo gave Seth a measuring look. He was getting a weird feeling from Dean's friend and he wondered if Ambrose had neglected to tell them everything. Before he could say anything about Seth to Balor, he realized that he didn't need to. Finn was looking pale and Hideo knew immediately this was going to get messy. Under his breath, he started praying to the local spirits. He'd found that North American spirits were not that much different than their Japanese counterparts. He felt them gathering, but it was tricky since he needed to convince them not to attack Balor, but the horses, specifically Hunter's.

Hunter was saying, "Now I've got another job for you."

"Need to get paid for the first one," Owens reminded Hunter, deliberately sidling his horse next to Ryback's. He got close enough to get an irritated suspicious look from the big guy who moved his horse away. Owens pretended not to notice but subtly kept inching his horse closer.

Hunter ignored both of them. "You'll get your money." He slapped the reins to get the horses moving again. The rest of the riders followed. As he prayed, Hideo kept giving Seth strange looks and guided his mount over to Balor, discreetly signaling to his friend to be ready. Gritting his teeth, Finn nodded once. His demon, which was normally just simmering, was now raging so hard Finn was having a difficult time controlling it, even with Hideo's reinforcements. And it was directly because of Seth.

Ahead, Owens had started speaking to Ryback which meant that soon Ryback was going to respond with violence. Luckily there was no sign of the Ascension yet.

Then Jamie shouted in surprise, "What the hell is wrong with his eyes?"

Finn's eyes were a deep red. And they were glowing.

Balor was breaking free.

Hideo called out something in Japanese. Owens was shouting in English. Then Balor growled something incomprehensible and all the horses shied nervously at the sound. Jamie and Joey were fighting to control their nervous mounts. With everyone attention occupied, no one noticed Owens throw something Hideo had given him earlier at Ryback's horse, but the reaction was immediate. The horse bellowed and bucked hard, throwing the surprised mercenary to the ground where he was promptly stepped on by Owens' horse, which he had stationed conveniently near. The sound of breaking bones was lost in the howl of pain and rage, all of which added to the chaos. Kevin looked down in mock surprise, then 'accidently' guided the animal to step on Ryback again, just for good measure. "That's a shame," he said, with false sympathy. Then his attention was forced back to his spooked horse when Balor growled again.

In the middle of all the chaos, Seth sat calmly on his horse. The angel's presence kept the animal placid.

"Get him out of here!" Hunter shouted at Jamie and Joey as he fought for control of his own horses. Hunter didn't believe for a minute that Balor had broken free on accident. He immediately recognized the distraction and knew the target was Seth. He tried to get the situation under control but his horses were rearing in panic and shaking their heads frantically as something unseen buzzed around their ears. Hunter yanked hard on the reins, swearing in anger as the horses threatened to spill the carriage.

Then from under the blanket on the back of Dean's horse, two revolvers appeared and fired, bullets hitting Jamie and Joey both; Jamie in the side and Joey in the thigh. They fell to the ground, bleeding and screaming. Dean fired again, the bullets screamed over Hunter's shoulder and between his horses' heads, making them bolt in terror. Hunter swore in surprise and anger, giving Dean a vicious look of hatred, but he was forced to deal with the blindly charging horses before they crashed headlong into a tree or over an embankment. Miffed that he had missed Hunter, Dean sat up on his horse, stuffing his revolvers back into their holsters, grabbed the reins of Seth's horse and sank his spurs deep into his horse's sides. The two took off at a full gallop.

Not looking back, Dean kept spurring his horse to maintain the blistering pace. He concentrated on heading north with Seth beside him. He felt better away from Balor's presence but still felt twitchy. It felt like something not human was near, but it didn't feel like a demon so he ignored it. The only that mattered was making sure he and Seth got away. He looked over to give Seth a maniacal grin, expecting one in response. But Seth was holding onto the saddle, looking straight ahead. He didn't look relieved or happy. In fact, he looked annoyed. It was weird but Dean decided he would deal with Seth's issue later when they reached the Nations. Seth was probably pissed it had taken so long for Dean to rescue him. Well screw him then. For now they still had a lot of ground to cover. He hoped Balor, Hideo and Kevin were able to keep Hunter's men occupied long enough for them to reach safety. But even if they were pursued, Dean had no issue using lethal force to keep Seth out of Hunter's hands.

After the initial sprint which took them a couple of miles, Dean sat back and allowed his horse to ease back into ground-eating lope to allow the blowing horse to catch its breath. He looked back to see if they were being pursued, but there was no sign of anyone. Balor and Hideo had done their jobs well. He was still annoyed that he missed Hunter, that son of a bitch needed to die. But for now his priority was getting Seth to the safety of the Nations. His thoughts were interrupted when Seth jerked his horse's reins out of Dean's hand and hauled back on them, forcing the animal to slide to a stop. Confused, Dean did the same, turning around and trotting back to where Seth was. Both of the horses were breathing heavy but they weren't played out yet. "C'mon man. We need to move," Dean said urgently. "Hunter's goons will be on us."

"Ambrose," Seth sneered and the hair on the back of Dean's neck prickled but despite the warning of instinct, Dean came closer. This was Seth, his brother. If something was wrong…

Without warning, Seth reached out grabbed Dean's injured shoulder and threw him off of his horse. He landed hard on his back, all the air whooshed from his lungs and his shoulder was on fire. As he lay there, stunned, Seth dismounted and strolled over. He leaned over Dean and grabbed the front of his shirt, hauling him to his feet easily. Dean sagged as Seth twisted the collar, starting to choke off Dean's air.

"What the fuck, Seth?" Dean croaked, grabbing at Seth's hands.

"What do you mean Ambrose?" Seth asked with a smirk. "Why am I doing this? It should be obvious, you unstable lunatic. I don't need you anymore. I don't need Roman Reigns anymore. I'm done with the both of you." He shook Dean with a strength that rivaled Dean's own.

He was starting to see black spots. But even though this was Seth, Dean wasn't just going to roll over and let him do this. His sense of self-preservation kicked in and he reached down and grabbed his gun out of its holster. He reversed it in his hand and clocked Seth in the temple with the butt. Seth staggered back, releasing Dean who fell to the ground again, this time he landed hard on his knees, jarring his ribs again. Damn, that was starting to get old.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dean asked, getting angry. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Seth had always been confident, even cocky. But this was downright arrogant. The ungrateful bastard. Dean had gone and made a deal with a demon, had forgone killing Hunter to save Seth and now Seth was treating him like the enemy. He glared at Seth, and then noticed Rollins' hair. There was a blond streak. What the hell…Then he looked closer at Seth. And suddenly it felt like the ground fell out from under Dean's feet.

It wasn't his brother standing in front of him.

Seth's shadowed eyes were golden behind the brown. There was something else in Seth's body, looking out from Seth's eyes. He suddenly felt cold despite the sun shining directly overhead. "The fuck?" he whispered.

Seeing this, Rollins threw his head back and laughed out loud. There was a cruel bite to it. One Dean had never heard before. Dimly, he realized he was staring in utter shock, mouth hanging open, unable to move. His mind refused to accept what his eyes were telling him.

"What's the matter, Ambrose?" the thing drawled, eyebrow arched.

"What are you?" he asked hoarsely. He staggered back to his feet with his gun pointed at Seth.

"Ambrose, you are too stupid to figure that out? God, I had to do all the thinking when we were Marshals and now I'm done with it. Even that muscle-bound freak Roman is smarter than you, you dumb son of a bitch. I can't believe you aren't face down in a ditch somewhere."

"You're not a demon," Dean said, still in shock but starting to come out of it. His mind was beginning to function again. The icy cold was giving way to hot rage. He instinctively jerked his revolver up aiming right between Seth's eyes, the need to kill that fucking supernatural piece of shit fighting against the fact that is was Seth he was aiming at. His brother. He felt like he was being torn in half. "What are you?" he asked again.

"You're so pathetic," Seth sneered. "You honestly can't figure out what I am?"

Dean's mind raced. Not a demon, but what? Then he put it together. Randy had killed the mayor. The Saint had gone to war with Heaven. Despite Seth's cruel words, Dean was very smart. "You're an angel," he said flatly. "You possessed Seth."

With a mocking grin, Seth shrugged on shoulder. "Unbelievable that you actually figured it out," he said, smug. "But whatever. By bringing me here, you're making my job that much easier." He took a step forward, secure in the knowledge that Dean would not fire his gun at Seth.

Dean's response was to cock the hammer back. His expression was one of agonized determination.

Annoyed, Seth batted the gun away. "You're not going to kill me," he told Dean.

"Want to bet?" Dean asked, bring the gun back to Seth's forehead.

For the first time, Seth seemed unsure. He knew from Rollins' memories that Dean would shoot him. And that would be inconvenient. But Dean seemed to be forgetting something. The arrogant look came back. "You can shoot me, Ambrose, but it won't do any good. Not with that gun. And I know the Saint isn't going to come running to help you anymore."

"I don't need the Saint," Dean vowed. "If I can't kill you right now, then I will do everything in my power to see that whatever your business is here, that you fail. Every time you turn around, I will be there. And I will make your life miserable." He now understood the hollowness in Randy's eyes when he had saw Punk because he felt that same unbearable hollowness. Seth had been one of two people in the world that Dean truly loved. With Roman missing, he had tried to take care of Seth like Roman would have. But he had failed and Seth had been taken from him in the cruelest way possible. Seeing Seth like this, and with everything he had understood about possession, his brother's soul had been destroyed by that piece of shit angel. And finally he understood the cold rage the Saint had felt towards those who had taken his family. He couldn't tell if the tears that blurred his vision were from grief or rage.

But his gun never wavered.

Rolling his eyes at Dean, Seth sighed and shook his head. "You moron. I'm here to do one thing, get the Saint of Killers under control. The first step to doing that is to kill you. And I don't even need special weapons for that. I'll just use my bare hands!" Seth started towards Dean, hands curled into fists.

Sick and enraged, Dean started to squeeze the trigger.

"Dean, stop!"

Like a strong arm pulling Dean back from the edge of a cliff, Roman had arrived. Seth looked over, glaring at the newcomers.

Dragging his gaze away from Seth, Dean looked over and saw Mark helping Roman out of the wagon. Roman's normally tanned face was gray with pain but he was standing on his own two feet. His piercing gaze never left Dean's.

"So, Roman Reigns, you manged to stay alive after all," Seth said in a stupid, greasy drawl. "No matter. After I kill Ambrose here, I'll take care of you as well."

Roman ignored him, only looking at Dean and the gun pointed at Seth's forehead.

"I have to do this Roman," Dean insisted, taking a step back. "This fucking piece of shit possessed Seth! It destroyed his soul, now I'm going to destroy it!" he shouted, turning back to Seth who was standing still, smirk fading. He was eyeing Mark and the arrogance was melting away to uncertainty.

"Dean, put the gun away. You can't hurt him with it," Roman reminded him as he walked slowly toward Dean, hands easy at his sides.

"You heard him," Seth chimed in as Dean hesitated. "You can't hurt me with that little toy." He was about to say more but Mark appeared behind him and placed a large hand on the back of Seth's neck, silencing him. He turned to glare at Mark.

"Why don't you and I go wait over there?" Mark suggested. Although the words themselves were entirely void of menace and the tone was mild, the angel in Seth suddenly knew what was in the Abyss as the pale eyes stared back at him. Eyes wide. he nodded, mouth dry.

"This is such bullshit!" Dean argued. "We can't just let him get away with this!"

"I know," Roman said, stopping in directly front of Dean, deliberately placing his weak, aching body between Dean and Seth. He gently put a hand on top of Dean's gun, lowering it to point at the ground.

"He was our brother!" Dean shouted, unable to believe that Roman being was so calm about it; he himself was shaking with rage.

"I know," Roman replied. His chest ached fiercely, and not just because of Batista's bullet.

"It destroyed his soul and now that fucking piece of shit is sitting there, in Seth's body, like it's no big deal!" Dean ranted, not understanding why Roman wasn't reacting to that. He was still holding Dean's hand down, gun pointing at the ground but the touch was gentle. And yet for the life of him Dean couldn't lift it back up.

"I know," Roman repeated, softly.

"Stop saying that!" Dean screamed at him.

Giving Dean a look of god-awful sorrow Roman didn't say anything. And that made Dean even madder. Self-control was never his strong suit and with everything that had happened, he couldn't help it. He swung his free fist at Roman, who took the hit head on. Dean's fist connected squarely with his jaw, snapping Roman's head to the side. Roman stood for a couple of heartbeats with his eyes closed, absorbing the blow then turned and looked at Dean again. Stunned, Dean could not believe he had hit Roman. The one person who absolutely didn't deserve it. He braced himself for Roman's retaliation, knowing he deserved it. Hell, he welcomed it.

But Roman only stood there, looking at Dean with that same sad look that finally drained the rage from Dean, leaving only tearing grief in its wake. He swallowed, and to his horror his voice broke when he said, "I'm sorry, Roman."

"I know," Roman said and gently reached forward and gathered Dean into his arms. For a second Dean fought him, but feeling those strong arms around him, and the warmth of Roman's body seeping into his own, something in Dean broke completely. He stopped struggling and buried his head into Roman's shoulder and cried. Roman said nothing; he just held the lunatic close and let him get it out. The sun was sliding to the west.

After a while, Dean began to calm down and his breathing evened out, relaxing in Roman's arms. "It's my fault, Roman," Dean finally said, sniffing. His voice was hoarse. He was still shaking.

"What?" Roman asked, smoothing Dean's stringy hair back from his forehead as he held him as tight as his aching chest would allow. They both desperately needed a bath, he thought randomly.

"I was supposed to be watching out for him," Dean explained. "I tried, but I couldn't get there in time. I couldn't save him. And now he's possessed. And his soul was destroyed." He clutched Roman's coat desperately with his hand, the other still holding the forgotten gun.

Roman sighed and closed his eyes. He hated seeing Dean like this. Dean loved Seth. Hell, Roman loved Seth too. Seth was their clever brother. Roman, who barely had time to process what had happened, knew he would have to deal with his grief for Seth later. Right now, Dean needed him to be the strong one. The role he had been born to play. "Dean, we can play this game all day. If I hadn't gotten shot, I would have been there. I should have been there. We both failed him, Dean. This isn't on you alone."

"I hate him like this. That smirking asshole thinks we won't hurt him," Dean said as he pulled away from Roman and wiped at his eyes. He shrugged his shoulders to settle his jacket better and slipped his revolver back into its holster. Though the situation was still fucked up, he felt much better. Roman was here. "And the stupid part is he's right."

Seeing that Dean was calming down, Mark shoved Seth forward, hand still on the back his neck. "Tell them," he ordered.

Seth tried to turn and glare at the undertaker, but somehow found it impossible to meet that pale stare head on. The hand tightened with warning, and Seth acquiesced. "Okay okay, sheesh," he muttered and turned to the glaring Roman and Dean. "When I possessed this body, I didn't harm Seth," he said petulantly. Seeing their expressions unchanged, he muttered, "You guys really are idiots." He looked straight at Roman. "I'm not like a demon. His soul wasn't destroyed, alright? Seth's soul is still here. I'm just using his body while I'm here in this stupid place. When I leave he'll be fine. Happy now?" he turned back to Mark, whose expression did not change one iota.

"You mean, if I had shot you, I would have actually killed Seth?" Dean asked, feeling cold at the how close he had come to unknowingly murdering his brother, and wanting to shoot the angel more than ever.

"Yes," Seth snapped, hating to be forced to interact with them. "Any damage you do to this body you do to Seth. But it doesn't matter because I'm here to stay. If you destroy this body, he dies."

"This is such bullshit!" Dean exploded. "We're not going to just sit around and let you do this."

"You can't stop me," Seth pointed out all arrogance again and Roman never realized how slimy Seth could be. He hated that.

"You're wrong," Roman growled. Now he could be pissed.

Eyes still red, Dean looked at him in confusion and hope. "What are we going to do?"

"We're taking this piece of shit north to the Nations where Orton is. We'll make Crowfoot drive that fucking angel out."

TBC