Balthazar, true to his word, was guarding the edge of the forest. Dean's magic barrier didn't extend this far. It seemed to only cover the camp. Balthazar, Castiel and Dean were out of it. That meant that if Dante wanted to attack them, this was an opportune moment. Considering the nature of Dante, he knew he would and swiftly. Dean had caught him off guard. But that didn't suggest Dean was stronger than him. As Balthazar had stated before, this was Dante's realm. It was not Dean's. He may have been king at some point in the past, and the sword of power may still have chosen him, but that would only be because he was cut off from the other circles.

What a predicament Balthazar had gotten himself into. In a circle of Hell where there was no escape. Ask him three days ago and he wouldn't have imagined it.

Things weren't going as expected.

The night started to fade. The end of the red eclipse. Even if Dante hadn't run off with his tail between his legs, the shadowcrawler would have left, according to John. They came down every five nights he had said, during a red eclipse. He should have felt their departure. Crawler, curiously enough had residual Will inside them. Now, Dante could sense that. And yet he couldn't sense a great power leaving the ninth circle or even going further away.

He was looking on the white plains, just staring at while rays of sun came down and illuminated everything in it's slow manner. It's strange that this circle of Hell looked like Earth. It was all a farce. Dante was puppet master behind everything here. Except there were a few pieces on his game board that were out of his control. Dean, was one of them, and so was everyone who had recently entered.

Balthazar saw something twinkle in the distance. Curious. Since it was about to be "morning" here. It seemed like a star. He stretched out his senses and tried to detect what it was. It wasn't a Will power he could truly feel. In fact, he could not feel the source of it.

The twinkling light was coming closer to him. Centuries in battle and Balthazar had never learned to doubt something wasn't right. He drew out his sword and prepared for the worst. The light kept coming closer and yet even though it was close enough that the brightness began to illuminate his face, he still couldn't detect who or what was behind it.

A part of him knew. Part of him should have known from the very beginning. When the light enveloped Balthazar, he felt himself start to disappear. It wasn't the cold embrace of death, it was warm and welcoming, and yet his doubt remained. It was a ruse. A lie. His eyes started to close. All his life, he never needed to sleep, rest or remain still for any reason, but for the first time in his long life, fatigue touched his nerves.

His eyes closed and he blacked out. Such a nice sensation...Such a difference of the worries he held for Castiel, for his own wellbeing and for the others in the camp...The demons. Since when was he concerned for demons? Every worry in his mind blissfully wiped away..He stopped thinking...A tiny piece of his mind said that something was wrong, but he let himself dismiss it. It was a relief to finally be free.

Dean and Castiel didn't have to walk far to clear the forest. But Castiel stopped dead at the sight of blood on the snow. It wasn't a lot, and barely distinguishable. Just a quick splatter. It would have been impossible to notice for humans.

Castiel knelt in front of it while Dean remained still and standing behind him, arms crossed. "He was here. He's hurt. Someone took him."

"And he didn't even give a nice big angel scream," Dean complained.

"This is serious, Dean. Dante could be torturing him," said Castiel. "We may have to go back. Get the others. We might need the backup."

"Yeah, I don't like him very much?" Dean admitted.

"He's here because of me, Dean," Castiel reminded him. "He came here to find me. It wouldn't be right to just let Dante take him."

"He's your friend," Dean corrected. "If he was another celestial, I'd be reminding you that you're Fallen and he's not. I'd also point out that he's here to arrest you, not to help you."

"You don't know Balthazar like I do," Castiel snapped. "I've known him since the day of my creation."

"What the hell does that mean? Were you in the same test tube?" Dean laughed.

Castiel looked over his shoulder and flashed him a cold look. "We are not born like you are. All demons under you were human before. We simply existed one day. We weren't infants. We start out smaller...Fledglings. And then we reach a full state of maturity."

"That's a shame," Dean answered. "You'd be an adorable infant."

Castiel scowled at him. "Come on, let's go back to the others."

He rose and began to walk past Dean who remained unmoved. Castiel stopped and stared at him. "What are you waiting for? We need Merrick and Lilith, don't we?"

"Angel, you just emerged from a comatose state in your own head. I can get that, the others might not," said Dean. "You're going to have to explain to them why you're working for us again. Longer you spend doing that, the more your friend is closer to his death bed, probably. I say we avoid the inevitable for as long as possible."

"You're King," Castiel narrowed his eyes. "You can make them understand."

"True. I can convince Carmen to be more accommodating...I can make Merrick and Lilith behave...but the humans that are sheltering them...I highly doubt that. They really and truly dislike me. My presence is hardly tolerated and that's not because of my species, trust me," said Dean.

"What exactly are you suggesting?" Castiel prompted him.

Dean made a lavish gesture of stepping aside and presenting Castiel an invisible path. "After you."

"You're not serious. This is Dante we're talking about. You got lucky the first time," said Castiel.

"The camp is the safest location. I placed a magic barrier on it," Dean explained. "I'll be happy to get my Guardians...but I'd rather them stick to my child and Sam."

"John can-"

"No," said Dean sharply. "No, he can't."

Castiel opened his mouth to reply but he caught wind of Dean's expression. It was beyond irritated. He ran a hand through his hair. Dad was a senstive subject it looked like. Yet they acted like they were tolerant of each other at best. But it seemed like that was a fragile alliance.

He remembered John saying that Castiel didn't understand anything when Castiel inferred what had to be the truth. John could not be here without betraying something. He could not bear the mark of the ninth circle if he hadn't committed some kind of treason. Who could he have betrayed if not Mary and Dean by selling Dean to the devil for some reason or another?

Castiel put off worry for Balthazar for a moment.

"You don't get along with your Father," Castiel noted, sliding to stand directly in Dean's way. "Why is that?"

Dean grunted. "Cas."

"No, this is fun," Castiel grinned. "You seem to have a universal quality to not get along with any sort of parental authority. Lucifer, I could understand. But what about John?"

"Aren't we looking for your friend?"

"Why are you evading the question?"

"Why are you asking the question?" Dean countered.

"Because I've seen John," said Castiel. "He looks a lot like you, Dean. But his personality could not be any more different. Actually...You know he acts a lot like you would if you weren't King of Hell."

"You got a crush on him now?" Dean snapped, eyeing Castiel's amused expression with disdain. "Well, why don't you go shack up in his tent then?"

Dean began to walk away. No, actually the correct term might have been stomped.

Castiel caught his elbow and swung Dean back around. "You're jealous. Easy, Dean. There's no need for that. I just want to know what's going on."

"There's nothing to tell, angel," said Dean stonily.

"Why don't you want to talk about it? This might be a long way. I'd like to hear the story,"

"There's no story,"

Castiel sighed. "Of course there's not."

"Angel," said Dean, drawing close, his voice softening. "Just trust me on this. You don't want to know. Let's press on."

It felt like hours later that Balthazar finally woke up. He was on his front. The ground underneath him was cold and hard. He opened his eyes and found not much difference from keeping them closed. Everything was dark. It looked like it might have been the cave he had been in with Castiel and Carmen when he first arrived, but something told him it was a different location. John had said there was only a few landmarks. The demon's side, the Fallen's side and the human encampment in the middle of both armies.

So where was this?

He started to get up, reach for the sword at his belt. He remembered not sheathing it. It was out before...but his sheath was empty and there was no sign of it anywhere. Summoning his Will, he tried to call it to him, but he found a block similar to when the barrier was up. The Will would or could not conjure up his weapon.

Left, right. Front or back...Didn't seem to matter which direction. Even with his enhanced eyesight, he could not sense a correct direction, so he just started walking in front. He'd get a good indication that he was going the wrong way if he hit something. His hands extended, feeling around like a blind man for something solid. Ten steps and he never hit a wall. Maybe this was the right direction then. He kept walking. Kept walking. The surface of the "cave" wasn't smooth. It was jagged and full of several rocks that Balthazar nearly tripped over several times.

Eventually the pathway seemed to slope and Balthazar felt a distinct splash when he took a step forward a moment later. He backed up then, water was filling on the inside of his boot. Where was this? What cave had water in it?

A light switched on and it was the same light that had lured Balthazar out of the forest. It was directly in the middle of what looked like a black pond. Right in front of it there was a flat rock protruding from the ground like an altar, with various items on top of it. A dagger, a bottle of black liquid and a piece of old scrap paper. It was a cave as he originally thought. Despite himself, Balthazar started to move towards the pond, towards the light. This time, there wasn't a cosmic draw to it. He was curious, as he often was, as to what it actually was.

"My Grace," said a voice behind Balthazar that made him jump. It was Dante, leaning against the rocks, only partially illuminated by the light unlike Balthazar. He didn't look well. He was still bleeding from the stump he had left from Dean's attack. One hand was over the wound, holding the blood flow. He looked pale and maybe it was because the light was so bright, but he looked sickly.

"What's left of it," Dante finished as he stepped off the rock and made his approach. Balthazar backed away despite himself. He reached for his sword and then mentally cursed himself when he realized that Dante had taken it at some point.

"You don't look so well," Balthazar commented. "Why have you brought me here, Dante?"

"I like you," said Dante simply. He tried to shrug and it was his injured side he used, so Balthazar didn't miss seeing him wince. "I always was fond of you, old friend. It wasn't so long ago that we were close. We understood eachother."

"Yes," Balthazar conceded. "But you changed. And that changed everything else. I can't say I regard you as a friend now...so again, why have you brought me here? It won't be long before the others notice that I am not there."

Dante was unconcerned, and he ignored Balthazar's last statements. "It's regrettable you don't regard me as a friend, because I'm still fond of you. I'm fond of you enough that your presence in my realm is not a complete loss. I've found a use for you."

"If you mean to kill me and take my power to heal yourself, you're doing it all wrong," said Balthazar coldly. He took another step back, now he was ankle deep in the water.

"I'm not going to kill you, Balthazar. I have absolutely no need to kill you to heal myself either. There are much better avenues to do that," said Dante. He came closer and came to a stop in front of the altar.

"Are there really?" Balthazar feigned interest.

"You see this?" He lifted the bottle of black liquid. "Recognize it?"

"No," Balthazar answered honestly.

"This is a concentrated, liquefied form of Stigmatus Inferno. It's a plant that's recently begun to grow in the mortal realm. Nature's own abhorrence to the demon infestation topside. It's a poison that targets those with a high heart rates. Demons, if you will. For an celestial or a Fallen, it might just slow them down a little. Be quite painful...but shouldn't kill them."

"So you're here to poison me? That's nice," Balthazar commended sarcastically.

"No, I don't have to poison you. It's already in your system. You're standing in a puddle of it," said Dante with a small smile. "Don't worry. It takes a while to sink in. You'll start feeling nauseous soon enough. Maybe even hallucinate. Might spicen up this cave."

Balthazar checked himself. No nausea yet, but he immediately jumped out of the pond, to the rocks on the side. Great. Just...great.

Dante busied himself with the materials on his altar. He drew out the piece of scrap paper...that wasn't scrap paper at all when Dante lifted it in the partial light. It looked like a very old dish rag but with a shock, Balthazar realized it was the Scripture itself. The faint black writing was exactly the same and even from this distance and small amount of light, he recognized some of the symbols on the edges.

"That's the Scripture of the Messiah," Balthazar remarked. "The real one was destroyed. What's that? A fake?"

"Destroyed," Dante repeated with a dry chuckle. "Is that what your mission reports say? It was your General that attempted to secure this long ago."

"Yes. That it was destroyed. There was an entire manor full of dead bodies and no Scripture," said Balthazar. Talking about a top-secret mission in a realm he wasn't likely to get punished in for it wasn't as bad as it seemed. Besides, it was a shameful thing to admit, but it may as well have been said. "What is that? The copy of the messiah?"

"This is authentic," Dante told him icily.

"Sure it is,"

"It's authentic. Your reports indicate that it was destroyed, but your reports are wrong. Let me take a guess. You sent one of your angels to retrieve the Scripture...and found only one survivor," said Dante.

"How did you know that?" Balthazar stared, beginning to feel agitated. He hadn't mentioned that. In fact, his commanding officer at the time, Raphael, had made it a point to recover Castiel as soon as possible and take him to a secure location for interrogation. Once there, they found Castiel confused and slightly dazed. He had no recollection of the mission. He had no recollection of where the Scripture was, nor did he even know what the Scripture was. They tested his memory some more. It wasn't permanently damaged. He remembered who they were, what he was...It was like someone had removed his memories of the Scripture altogether.

"Because I was there, Balthazar. I was in the room. The underground tomb below Rose Manor where that greedy little human, Dominic Gunn hid this...I was in the room when our dear King decided to lose his cool and destroy it. Considering the situation...Considering he should have had more important matters on his mind...like, I don't know, say, the war with Fallen, on his mind?

"Dean was there? Now that's where you're going overboard. Only more recently has he gone all rogue and shown his face. During that time, hardly any of us glimpsed the new King with the exception of Gabriel and myself...and perhaps Michael to reinstate the treaty when he took the crown. Dean would send a subordinate if anything...and the subordinate was not responsible for the destruction. As it is, we found no evidence of demonic activity in the area after we recovered Castiel," Balthazar told him.

"You seem to severely underestimate the importance of this Scripture, old friend," said Dante disapprovingly. "Of course this Scripture is important. Of course even that selfish brat would show his face to get it. Except his intention was not as gentile as yours. He did not wish to recover. He wished to destroy. As always has been his intention. He came to Earth to destroy the Scripture. He came back again to destroy Lucifer's vessel. Are we detecting a pattern yet? His majesty nearly succeeded in destroying this Scripture...but it was a stroke of luck, that he did not. Had he actually succeeded, you can count on none of us being here to tell the tale."

"That is our property. Our Scripture," Balthazar snarled through his teeth. But he wasn't quick to drop everything to attack Dante for it. He hadn't heard news of the Scripture for years. It must have had limited power, which should have been impossible. He could not deny what he could sense, however. The Scripture was no longer at full power. "If it was destroyed, then there's no use for it. May as well as use it for tissue paper and start cleaning up your new 'secret lair'."

"You're not listening," Dante hissed. "It was not destroyed. It was broken. It's pieces scattered. Had you actually went on the mission yourself rather than allowing a low-ranking soldier in your place...maybe you would have known that. Maybe you could have changed that. "

"It's a Scripture, Dante," said Balthazar in a bored voice. "It was important to us back then and I understand why. It's a piece of paper containing the word of God. But now, it really doesn't matter to me."

"Its more than a piece of paper...This," He indicated the Scripture in his hand. "If you had been there, you might have read the words that appeared before the brat king interfered."

He turned from Balthazar. "The Scripture... embodied all."

Balthazar watched as the light from the middle of Dante's pond lowered into the water until the pond was illuminated by that same light. From the depths something rose, black lettering hovering in the air. Balthazar could barely read it, but he didn't have to. The words spoke themselves. It was like three beings speaking at once.

There was something familiar about the three voices.

"Traveler of the free world,

Speak onto me the words of this Scripture and you shall witness.

Speak onto me the word of Heaven and Hell and I will restore peace.

Speak unto me the word of Man and I will bring balance.

For I am all.

I am Law and I am Havoc.

I am Compassion and I am Retribution.

I am Memory and I am Despair.

I am Dominion.

I am All."

Each time it claimed an attribute, a symbol appeared behind the black lettering. Of course Balthazar recognized them, they were archived in Heaven as holy and unholy symbols of man. Each symbol glowed with a different color light. Golden for Law. Black fumes for Havoc. Blue for Compassion. Light red for Retribution. Green for Memory. White for Despair. And finally, a deep shade of red for Dominion.

The words themselves were power. Havoc's symbol overlapped the word and black smoke surrounded Dante. He was briefly obscured until he emerged from it, the deathly pale that he had before vanished...and Balthazar could sense Will igniting every inch of him. Balthazar could smell the blood of old on him. To his horror, Balthazar saw the wing that Dean had torn off completely restored, extended fully. The Scripture, whatever residual power was inside of it had responded to him.

Dante sighed a deep breath, flexing his fingers and looking at them. "Ah...so good to have the power back."

"It's...not possible," Balthazar murmured.

"I told you I wanted to give you insight," Dante told him, acknowledging him with dark eyes shining as the words of the Scripture began to dissolve into nothingness. "And now you know. Speak my name. My true name. The name the King forced upon my head when he shattered the Scripture and fragmented the pieces into all of us."

"All of you...," said Balthazar softly.

"ANKHHHH! Wrong answer, " Dante jeered gleefully. "Yes, there is more than just me. All these attributes, these pieces that the Scripture once embodied have fragmented into us. It's just unfortunate that they have housed themselves in such unworthy folk...save for...me, of course."

"Havoc," Balthazar finally said, recognizing the symbol...It was the same one Dante had placed over the portal into the ninth circle. It was the same one that shone before the Scripture words disappeared. "You're Havoc."

"Soon enough, you'll be calling me Dominion," said Dante with a smile. "All it takes is the reunion of my brethren...and those last pieces happen to be inside that fucking Fallen and his demon lover."

"Castiel...and Dean? Dean broke it...He broke the pieces into everyone who was around him," Balthazar realized. It was the combined voices of all three of them that spoke the words on the Scripture. Dante. Castiel. Dean. "Law...Compassion...Memory..."

"Memory. Dean. Yes...It was a simple stroke of luck that I managed to get my hands on Memory ten years ago. Only a strong emotion such as grief could ground Memory from staying with it's true soul. It was Gabriel's guilt that kept Memory on the surface...But that fool..he managed to free it and let it return here to it's source," Dante growled angrily. He ran a hand through his short hair. His voice turned mocking in an instant. "But he was never just Memory. A born leader in its own right. A king. Law attributed itself to him as well."

Balthazar glowered at him while his mind reeled, but he fought to keep his train of thought level. The stigma had finally taken root inside of him, but he had to keep consciousness. He had to. "And Compassion? I wager that didn't go into you...all things considered."

Dante smirked. "Compassion is a useless attribute to have. I could have taken Compassion from Castiel quite easily in our time together. But perhaps it's best to save retrieving that one for last. I managed to suppress it inside of him...but by my senses, Dean's impeccable ability with Memory restored it by now. Suppressing it should have killed him if not for the fact that he is Retribution as well. The right hand of Law. Castiel was able to use Will when the anti-magic field was up. He was an exception, like myself. Like Dean could have been at full power as well had Lucifer not bound him down with the field. It's a shame really...but killing Lucifer was quite a satisfying victory I robbed from my dear Dean."

"You call him Law...But Dean is...a..," Balthazar couldn't finish. It didn't make sense.

"A demon," Dante finished, striding around his altar to stand before the pond. "Yes...It does put a damper on things to know my nemesis is a bratty child having a consistent temper tantrum...But alas, I should not hold it against him. He wears a crown. Words pour out of his mouth that people have trouble resisting. He is Law. It's as simple as that."

"And you mean to destroy them both to retrieve them and become...what? King of the world?" Balthazar mocked him. "All this time I thought you were here for vengeance...for him banishing you here in the first place."

Dante's eyes narrowed. "Vengeance has no part in this...Well, some part. I came to Dean after he had broken the Scripture. He managed to remove our memory of what happened at Rose Manor and keep it to himself but let's just say...mine recovered. Perhaps he did it because he, like Castiel and I, had received a glimpse into our future. Perhaps the King has and always will be a coward. I came to him, begging him for aid. He scorned me. He ignored my pleas and banished me...here."

"I will become Dominion...Rest assured. But not before I watch him break. I am Havoc after all. And as an agent of destruction, I simply cannot abide by menial sufferings in this realm. It hasn't been enough. It hasn't nearly been enough. He must feel what I felt when he put me here. I will take from him everything...and then I will destroy him. Until he is nothing but what the Scripture ordained him to be. A memory."

Balthazar struggled to take all of it in. He swayed a little and the entire cave swirled around him. He was going to pass out soon due to the effect of the Stigma. He clawed at the wall to stay on his feet. "It's not going to work...You're not going...to win."

"We all have our special abilities, Balthazar...Shall I tell you of mine? I can absolve the knowledge of Will from any being I desire. And once I do, I'm able to absorb the knowledge into myself." Dante told him. "As if it was my spell to begin with."

"Isn't that something," Balthazar feigned enthusiasm. He didn't know what he looked like to Dante and frankly, he didn't care. It felt like he had lost a lot of blood and was down to a pint. He was pretty surprised his voice wasn't coming out slurred. But he had to concentrate, the back voice in his mind was predominantly telling him to stay awake. Dante's revelation shook him as did the knowledge of his power. And he needed to be conscious while Dante took...whatever it was he was looking for from him.

Dante grinned down at him, he saw his teeth gleam in the darkness. "Every Archangel is granted the power of Divine Light. It's like a package you get when you receive the upgrade, if you know what I mean. The Divine Light allows you to create all sorts of things. But more specifically, I want you to do me a favor. And I hope, I still have some clout with you that'll do."

"Are you seriously asking me to give you one of my powers," Balthazar snarled coldly. "There's nothing I have that you are not capable of doing yourself."

"Not asking. Just telling you what I take. The process might be a little jarring," And without further prompting, Dante leaned down and thrust his hand through Balthazar's chest. Black veins traveled from Dante's eyes down to his very fingertips. Balthazar grit his teeth together and felt his bloodshot eyes widen. Brave. Any other person might have been screaming their lungs out.

"This might be easier if you don't struggle. That's it," said Balthazar approvingly, closing his eyes and seeming to focus on something. His eyebrows furrowed after a moment and Balthazar felt like he was going to die. Surely pain of this level couldn't exist in any realm? His chest felt like it was on fire, but the agony washed over every direction: To his arms, to his throat and burning like acid in the pit of his stomach.

Dante pulled his hand out and Balthazar took a deep breath. He expected to find Dante's fingertips dripping his blood but they were quite clean. Still, he looked disappointed.

"You're not an Archangel," said Dante, slowly looking back at Balthazar. "You're still a Commander."

Balthazar couldn't help but give him a gloating smile. He looked so upset. "Still wishing you brought Gabriel instead?"

Balthazar glimpsed a furious expression before Dante punched him. Balthazar was almost out before he hit the ground. He keeled over on his side just as Dante rose to his feet, hovering over him with pure rage.

"Commander Balthazar...I thought you would have received a promotion for your efforts in the war," said Dante, lightly kicking the angel's kneecap. "Looks like Heaven isn't being as appreciative as they used to be. It's no concern...I have a backup plan but it requires one last thing...one last ingredient. In that camp."

"You... won't get there," Balthazar was slurring now. His eyes were half open and all he could really see was Dante's shoes midst a faint light coming from the little pond behind him where the words of the Scripture had been read. "There's...a barrier."

"That's not a problem," said Dante. And Balthazar heard, even though he could not see. Something that sounded like a snake slithering it's way inside of the cave, hissing along the way. A second too late, Balthazar realized that Dante was speaking to something or something was speaking to him. Probably the latter because Dante answered in plain English a moment later.

"On the white plains...Hm...I'm surprised they even uncovered a trail. Very well. You know what to do."

The hissing sound answered him. It was a shadowcrawler talking. First time Balthazar had heard one talk since he had gotten here. They sounded like snakes. Which shouldn't have surprised Balthazar considering how slippery Dante was by himself.

And it slunk away. That was the last sound Balthazar heard before he passed out.

Dean stopped Castiel short, grabbed a handful of his jacket. "Wait. You hear that?"

Castiel looked around too, then back at Dean. "Hear what?"

"Fucking Hell," Dean growled and he took a hold of Castiel's wrist to stop his advance. Castiel didn't have to demand an explanation. A sound like hissing snakes reached his ears. But it wasn't just one...What felt like hundreds of snakes rustling through the plains towards them. And then they formed, faceless shadowcrawler. Hundreds of them. They formed a circle around the two of them. Back to back with Dean, Castiel could see no way out.

"Can we fight them?"

"You can't fight what you can't touch," Dean's fist curled and a blaze of fire lit around his knuckles. "Shadowcrawler attack the mind, not the body. But they scatter at the sight of any light. "

"So much for only coming down every five nights," Castiel answered. "It's-"

"It's my realm," Dante materialized right in front of them in a swirl of black smoke. His eyes shifted over the shadowcrawler, to Castiel and then to Dean and a smile curled on his face. Castiel was appalled to see him in perfect state.. There was no way he could have healed himself that quickly. There was no way he could have reattached his wing, but it was there, plain as day, extended from his back. And there was something more to Dante than he had ever sensed before. The Shadowalker was always powerful...but it seemed that power had increased by a thousand.

"This is a nice and happy reunion, isn't it?" said Dante pleasantly. "We didn't quite get to catch up before, did we?"

"No one likes you, Dante," said Dean in a bored voice. "You're like the kid on the playground that has the flu on a summer afternoon."

"I would speak only for yourself when addressing others, Dean. You and I both know that Castiel hardly shares those sentiments," Dante drawled, locking eyes with Castiel who glared back.

"I should have killed you the moment I saw you," said Castiel venomously.

"Killed me? Killed me?" Dante opened his mouth in shock and placed his hand over his heart. "Why would you say such a thing? You should be thanking me. Worshiping the ground I walk on. I brought you here, didn't I?

"Dante hides the truth behind noble words. What a surprise," Dean remarked sarcastically. "You manipulated him. You got Sam killed...You got Carmen dragged into all this. Don't piss on my foot and tell me it's raining, cockbite."

Dante was still focused on Castiel. "If not for me, you'd never have seen him again. That's the truth. But Dean was okay with that, whereas you were not, isn't that right, Dean? I'm all for zen and accepting your fate, but even for me, that's cold."

"Fuck you, Dante," Dean snarled. There was a loud shiik sound as Dean drew out his sword. "All you've ever proven to be in your time here is a massive pain in the ass."

"The feeling is mutual," Dante replied scathingly. "Arrogant child wearing a crown. You deserve more than any other to be condemned to this realm. You deserve to be destroyed...despite what your friends may believe about you."

"Ah, there it is," Dean smiled without humor. "You've created quite a mess just to come here and kill me, haven't you, Havoc?"

Distracted, Castiel glanced at Dean. The word was simply a word that did not fit, but it seemed to hold some power in it. Like the Lord's name brought the shelter of his light and love, this name seemed to bring upon an eerie, dark and foreboding feeling in Castiel. It was familiar in only that he had felt it when he was not of sound mind. "Havoc?"

"Don't get presumptuous, Dean," Dante snapped. " Not everything in the world revolves around you. Though I am curious if Lucifer was right."

"Right about what?" Dean asked impatiently. But he didn't spot how Castiel's eyes widened. How he glanced at Dean like it was the last look between them. It was like a repeat. Everything going back in a circle, which shouldn't have surprised him, considering that seemed to be the pattern of his life since meeting Dean. It was death or nothing at all.

Dante locked eyes with him...and those eyes invoked something in Castiel. It was all over again. Back in Envy when he was weakened and broken, ready to die rather than live with such pain. He felt the walls of his mind press in on him. Felt his heart burn, tighten in his chest and hammer against his ribs. Castiel summoned the Will he could to resist, but it didn't work to stave off the effect. He may have been back in his right mind, but that didn't mean he had full control of his power.

Castiel collapsed to the ground, clutching the front of his shirt. His eyes bulged, his mind strained, veins popping out around his temples. He could have screamed, but no sound came out.

"That has a very nice effect," said Dante approvingly. "I like that. I might do this again later. Remind me."

Castiel managed to peer up at Dean through the black haze that was beginning to reform in his mind. The last time this happened, he didn't even get to see Dean...but at least he got to speak his name.

"Dean...Run," Castiel managed to say before his head was forced down again and he felt blood bubble inside of his mouth, tasting like pure acid as it dripped from his mouth.

Dean's expression remained unchanged, even as he watched Castiel struggle against Dante's hold below. The slightest twitch of his jaw, but he kept his face reasonably smooth as he looked up at Dante.

"You know what your Father said to me? Not...Not John. Other one. Fake one," Dante waved a dismissive hand. "He had a nice choice of words regarding you. He said you would burn the entire realm to save Castiel. Isn't that curious, Dean? Of course I knew you two had a strong attachment. It took nearly killing Castiel here." He tightened whatever hold he had on Castiel because Castiel cried out that time, unable to help himself. Dean's entire body twitched this time, his face reddening. But Dante ignored it, rambled on . "To convince him to come with me without having his attachment to you. I wonder if we can see this theory come to life. I'm all for people proving me wrong though, Dean. So don't hesitate, Dean. If my actions are pissing you off, by all means..."

"This is really not worth you losing both wings," Dean replied softly. "Is it?

"Oooh, I like that confidence," Dante approved, but in an instant, his expression changed to sour. Moody bastard. "Coward, wasn't it? To attack me without preamble. In a real fight, you'd be on the floor in a mess of demon-y goodness."

"Dean...It's...taking over...I can't hold it off," But it was in that moment that Castiel looked up at him. Really looked at him. And Dean met his gaze for a fraction of a second. He knew what he was going to do. Just like he knew what Dean was going to do when he jumped into the ninth circle, when he condemned him to it.

They had barely spent a few minutes in each other's presence. Too short for Castiel, a being for eternity, just like Dean. Looking into those sharp green eyes in that split second, he knew that Dean had made up his mind and that nothing was going to change it. It was the same exact look he got when Lucifer had a blade to his throat ten years ago.

"Dean,"

"Here's how it works, Dean. I release that pitiful excuse for a Fallen and you take down the barrier over John's little camp. How's that sound? I think that's fair," Dante took a step closer, pulling out his own sword from it's sheath on his back. "The way I see it, you have a fateful choice to make. Kill them...or...Kill him. Your choice."

The faintest smile spread across Dean's face when Dean looked Castiel's way, but it was Dante whom he was focusing on. Insolence entered his tone. "You know what pisses me off about you? You always hide behind a body shield. You want to fight, let's fight. I'm here. You're there. Let's do this. That is, if you got the fucking balls to stand toe to toe with the King. You want the barrier down, you know how to take it down. Kill me. It's what you're here for, right?"

Dante smiled. And for once, it actually looked genuine. Dean didn't want him too happy though. Dante snapped his fingers and the spell that he was using on Castiel faltered a second later, leaving the Fallen gasping for breath. The haze around his mind cleared and he could see past it at last.

"I'd love a dance," said Dante.