"Before we begin, I want to set some ground rules," said Dean.
"You never follow rules," Dante replied dully. "Stop stalling."
"True," said Dean with a small shrug. He twirled his sword in his hand.
"Dean, don't do this," Castiel implored. He dropped his voice down to a whisper as he pulled himself to his feet. "You know him. He won't fight fair. He'll destroy you. Don't you understand? This is all just another game to him."
"Good thing I love games," Dean answered with a devious smile.
"Dean," Castiel said reproachfully.
"Don't worry, angel. I was just looking for more ways to impress you," said Dean with a sly smile. "Find your friend. I'll hold him off."
He stepped forward, and Castiel caught his elbow so that he was forced to look at him. "Dean. Be careful."
"Hah," was all Dean said.
"Are you two having your final look at each other before he dies?" Dante asked, watching the two of them. "That's sweet. Some people never get an opportunity like that."
Dean grimaced at him, and yet his eyes went from left to right in quick succession. He knew he had to bring Dante out of this circle of shadowcrawler. Shadowcrawler. Damn them.
"Call them off," Dean ordered.
"Are you frightened, Dean?" Dante sneered.
" This is between you and me. Not you, me and your pets," Dean replied.
Dante snorted and mocked him. "As you command, your Majesty."
His head whipped around, addressing the shadowcrawler. "Disperse."
And so they did, the black mass around them thinning as the shadowcrawler either disappeared altogether or went into the ground. Who knew? They were at Dante's heel.
"Now, are you going to put a bite behind your words or are you going to stand there and look pretty all da-"
Dean cut him off with a lunge. Faster than Dante could catch, just like before. He managed to just barely raise his sword in defense before Dean caught him in a clench and they locked, inches apart from eachother, Dean applying force against Dante's blade until the Fallen's knees buckled.
"Move, Cas!" Dean called. He saw the angel hesitate in the corner of his eye. "Go! I'll be fine, just find the celestial!"
"Dean, I can't leave you here!"
Dante batted Dean's blade away, his face contorted with rage.
Dean staggered back, glancing at Castiel. "Just go!"
Castiel stayed still for just a moment, debating taking out his sword and aiding him. Dante would have a harder time fighting both of them than he would just Dean, but an image of a bruised, bloodied and broken Balthazar floated to the center of his mind. And though he could not sense this was true, he knew Dante well enough that Balthazar wasn't in a quiet place sipping tea. He kept going, following the direction Dean and him had originally been going before they were taken off.
Dante grinned at him. "You honestly think you can save him? You're feeding right into my hand, Dean."
"Oh, now I know what to aim for," Dean countered.
Advancing. Advancing. Dean charged at him with the black hilted blade upheld, going to his foreswing and following it with a backswing. Dante dodged the first and met the second with his longsword. Good thing Dean was all for cheap shots. He elbowed Dante in the face, snapping his face to one side with his free arm and received great satisfaction in watching him falter, rubbing a shattered jaw. The Fallen rubbed the place where he had been hit then reset his chin so the bone became firm again. He glared at Dean, growled under his breath and charged him.
Striking. This arcing shot sliced the fabric of Dean's shirt at the midsection. It missed the flesh behind it by perhaps a centimeter. He could have made a comment then on how that was his favorite shirt, but Dante was already charging him again, swinging wildly. His sword was heavy, not light and weightless as Dean's sword was to him. That didn't suggest of course that he was untrained with it. Just that his movements were a bit slower. And each strike was an aim to kill that Dean dodged by an inch every time.
Dante had him on the ropes. That much was clear. He couldn't lay a defense forever. He had him backing up, zipping right and left when he saw a flash of silver descending on his head or his heart. He was holding Dante at bay, but that was it. He jumped, parried and slid away, laughing each time Dante tried to do a power attack to finish him off.
Dirty tactics were Dean's best friend. Another punch to the face broke Dante's nose and had blood pouring down his mouth and chin. His opponent was getting frustrated. That much was clear. Dante couldn't keep this up for long either. The terrain changed underneath him and soon they were back where they started. The forest. Tall trees covered the sky, and it felt like night all over again.
Tire him out. Tire him out. Use your surroundings if you're cornered. That's what Lucifer used to teach when he threw a fifteen year old Dean into the arena, pit him against his own demons of all size and shape. He had fought much worse than Dante. The crudest method of teaching someone to fight ever...while a crowd jeered and laughed at your pain each time you were struck down. Cheat if you have to, he had yelled during instruction. You're a demon. No one else follows rules here, why should you? Your power is your true weapon.
Dante staggered in frustration when Dean parried him with a hard clash of swords, nearly knocking the sword out of Dante's hand. The Fallen growled, furious. Dean locked with Dante one last time, barely missing a deadly strike to Dante's forehead, but making a small cut bead across his temple. Dante pulled away, grunting as he raised his hand to the gash, feeling warm blood spread across his fingers. His eyes shot to Dean with venom who looked at him with a taunting smile, twirling his blade idly. Dante rushed at him. His longsword missed, though not close enough to eat fabric. Dante managed another smirk, this time at the spryness of Dean's dodge. Dean had to admit to himself the attempt was impressive, but this time, the sight only made him angrier.
Dante took the momentary distraction to use the elements. He called the nearest tree to Dean's right and tore it off from the roots, forcing it to keel over on Dean's side. Dean barely managed to backflip away before it came down, a heavy branch grazing his already scarred cheek with four long red gashes. Looks like he wasn't the only one using dirty tactics. He took another leap onto a high branch that sheltered his weight nicely. Dante got a three second scowl at him before Dean slashed the air, the wind picking up with his attack. Dante squinted at him, raised his hand to cover himself and felt a sharp, painful sting on his wrist. He winced in pain, looking down a bloody lash mark cutting from his wrist down to his elbow.
A swordless cut.
Dean's famous little move.
"Look at that aim," said Dean smugly, kneeling down so that he got a better look. That arrogant look on his face was too much for Dante. Dean jumped down from the tree. "Call it quits, Shadowalker. You're not the first guy who's gone down on me."
Dante stepped over the fallen tree. They clashed in a vicious flurry. Dean's speed was almost completely unmatched but Dante kept up with him well. The first two strikes missed badly, but the third, a backswing off the one before it, ate through flesh. The heavy longword sliced through Dean's upper back just as he was moving under for an upward slash to Dante's chest.
Dean cried out this time, as blood poured through his back to the front of his right shoulder where the tip of Dante's sword pierced straight through. He reached up to touch it, finding only red fluid fill his hand. Dean felt his legs wobble, unsteady, before he fell to his knees.
And Dante was smiling down at him. Through the darkness, he could see the scarlet in his eyes. Dante raised his boot and placed it light over Dean's chest before pushing him to flatten on the ground, eagle spread, his legs still curled under him.
"Stay alive for me just a little longer, Dean," Dante's voice came from far away, strangely gentle. "I have one more surprise. I want you at least a little conscious for it."
Castiel followed the rest of the path in flight. The splattered blood trail ended west within a large cover of trees where a cave was barely visible midst thick branches. Brandishing his sword, Castiel cut through most of them. What did Balthazar find here? Did he lose consciousness and get dragged?
He made his way inside the cave, the light from behind him fading very quickly. But still, he couldn't help but think there was no doubt Balthazar had come here. Or...rather, he was dragged here. He could sense him, faintly, but it was there. The angel was probably bleeding life's blood as he walked. The thought quickened Castiel's pace. He expected shadowcrawler on every corner, breathing down his neck, but they weren't here.
The darkness was getting overwhelming and though Castiel was following his sense of Balthazar, it was just silly to keep going without any form of light. He raised his hand and red lightning curled around his fingertips. In his hand, it was simply a revolving orb of energy, but it provided enough light to see where he was going.
The cave stretched on. And then the faint sense he got from Balthazar grew stronger. He turned a corner and found a small source of light touching the walls. His spell was no longer necessary. Castiel curled his fingers and the lightning spell disappeared before he made a run down the cave. He heard a distinct groan when he was close enough.
Turning the last corner, Castiel found Balthazar sprawled against the cave wall, looking like he had taken more than a few punches, but otherwise all right. It was a large room with black water in the middle, a steady glowing piece of light in the center of the "pond" and a protruding, flat piece of rock with several items on top of it. A paper, a black bottle and a bloody dagger. Castiel could only guess what Dante had been doing down here. And maybe he really didn't want to know. He made for Balthazar, kneeling down, grasping his shoulders. Castiel immediately attempted to transfer a healing spell into him, but of course that had little effect.
"Castiel?" Balthazar's head swiveled around to look at him. He squinted at him as though Castiel was out of focus for him. "Oh. This must be a hallucination. You still feel like Castiel though."
"Balthazar," Castiel shook him. "I'm not a hallucination. I'm here to get you out of here."
"Definitely a hallucination," Balthazar murmured. "Castiel wouldn't say that, you see? Castiel doesn't like me. " Balthazar's eyebrows furrowed in a frown. "Come to think. He doesn't seem to like anyone these days."
"Dante's influence has left my mind. It's me again," Castiel told him. "I promise you, I am not a hallucination."
Balthazar stated at him, his eyebrows raised. Much to Castiel's surprise, the angel pulled himself to his feet and Castiel had to restrain himself from grabbing his shoulder and forcing him back down. He did not look well. Certainly not well enough to stand.
Without much preamble, Balthazar took a hold of Castiel's shoulders and peered very closely at him. Castiel knew what he was looking for, but that didn't stop him from frowning while he did it.
"Are you...all right?" Castiel asked.
"It really is you," Balthazar breathed. He wrapped his arms around Castiel and hugged him tight. His weight leaned on Castiel more than it should have. There were no physical injuries but his body felt weak and broken.
Castiel patted his back. "Of course it's me. I'm sorry, Balthazar...I can't really explain what happened there."
Balthazar didn't say anything, but his face turned grim on Castiel's shoulder. He knew what happened, but after hearing what Dante had to say about Dean, Castiel and himself, he found he didn't have the stomach to repeat it. Not now anyway.
"Let's get out of here," said Castiel, pulling away. "Come on. We don't have a lot of time. Dean's...distracting Dante. I don't know how long he can keep up that for."
"Distracting?" Balthazar repeated after him. "Define...distracting?"
"He's buying me time," said Castiel. "Come on. Let's go."
Castiel turned around, made for the exit, but Balthazar caught his arm. "Wait just a second, Castiel."
"What's wrong?"
"There's something I need to tell you. Something Dante told me while I was captured, "Balthazar's grip on Castiel's elbow was hard. Perhaps harder than necessary. But what could he say? He was just poisoned. He was pretty sure he looked like a mess on the outside, but in that moment, he didn't care. Stigma was still something he felt swirling around inside him. He had Dante to thank for that. Perhaps that was why his tone was so bitter. "You have to listen to me very closely. "
"Can it wait until later?" Castiel asked urgently.
"No, it can't," said Balthazar, shaking his head. "It's imperative that you understand something. Eleven years ago...Raphael gave you a mission, do you remember that?"
"Eleven years ago, Raphael gave me many missions," said Castiel impatiently. "Is this really so important right now, Balthazar? I feel like this can wait until later. Much later. "
"It can't wait," Balthazar nearly growled. "He gave you a mission to go down to the mortal realm and retrieve a Scripture. Does that sound familiar to you? It was probably the most important mission you've ever been given...I was even reluctant to hand it off to you because it was clear that General Raphael might have been sending you on a suicide mission. Do you recall this at all?"
"Vaguely," said Castiel. "But I don't remember it. I remember not remembering what you were talking about, both of you, in the debriefing. You said I was walking around in a daze out in the street when you found me...but I don't remember that either."
"You were," Balthazar confirmed. " Walking around in a daze. We tried to figure out what happened. The Scripture we sent you to retrieve went missing and there was a lot of bodies. You were the only one who emerged from the wreckage alive. But you had no answers for us. So we left the matter unattended, uninvestigated...I just didn't think the repercussions would be so severe."
"What in the world are you talking about? Severe repercussions?"
"You can't remember, Castiel. Doesn't that bother you? Doesn't it bother you that someone's tampered with your mind?" Balthazar stared at him incredulously. "Of course back then I had my theories that someone had created a complex memory spell. Archangels might have that ability surely. But I never wondered into it...I was so concerned with your safety after I found out you survived, that I ignored all the details. I was just pleased you were still alive and well."
"No, it doesn't bother me," Castiel clenched his teeth together. Anger coiled in him. And almost without thinking, Castiel slammed Balthazar against the cave wall by the throat, careful, at least at the last minute to not let a jagged piece cut him. "Listen, I'd love to reminisce with you. I'd love nothing more. But time is short. Dean could be dying out there. The more time I spend here talking about the past with you, the less time I have to get out there and save him. I came here. I went through eight circles of fire and ice just to get to him. Do you understand?"
He expected to see fear in Balthazar's eyes. He knew his touch was ice cold. He knew his eyes were probably blazing with something that had never been there before. Perhaps he was free of Dante's spell or curse or influence or whatever the hell had been over him before. But like he told Dean. He was a Fallen. There were impulses he could no longer control. Anger was one of these impulses. A part of him was telling him to put Balthazar down. A part of him was telling him to calm himself. But the dominant part yielded easy to his rage.
Balthazar looked over his shoulder at something in the pond. But he still addressed Castiel when he spoke next. "Do you?"
Castiel followed his gaze and his eyes widened. The little piece of paper that he initially spotted on the flat rock was glowing. Several red letters were floating a few centimeters above it. Instinctively, he released Balthazar who slid down the wall, coughing just a little.
"What is that?" His voice was so entranced. Balthazar watched as Castiel began to approach the Scripture as though in a daze. He was eerily reminded of how Castiel had looked when he had found him all those years ago after the mission to retrieve it.
"Castiel, don't get near that thing!" Balthazar shouted.
"Why not?" Castiel ghosted a glance in his direction, without really looking at him. "It's just a piece of paper...It's...harmless."
"It's not harmless. That's what I believed too...but then Dante told me...It's the Scripture, Castiel. It's what's left of it. Why do you think it looks that way? It was everything to us not too long ago. Now, look at it," said Balthazar. "It embodied the power of Heaven, Hell and Earth at some point...that's what they used to tell us. That's why it was so important. But now it's...been torn to pieces. Figuratively speaking."
He was close now, and Balthazar was reminded of Dante just moments ago. It was like Castiel was in a trance, he wasn't listening to him. He probably barely heard him.
Castiel's hand hovered over the Scripture, and the red lettering seemed to glow brighter. He was close enough to simply set his hand down and touch it now. As his palm slowly lowered, he heard something. Words on a repeat in a language he could not understand...and yet there was something familiar about the way the being spoke. Something that touched Castiel on the inside.
He felt something wrap around his wrist as Balthazar grabbed him and pulled him back. "What are you, a child? I said don't get near it. And there you go, touching everything like a kid on Christmas morning. You want to leave, right? Come on, we have to get out of here."
"Wait," said Castiel.
"Oh, so now you want to linger," said Balthazar exasperatedly, releasing Castiel and throwing up his hands. "Go ahead, Cas. Play with fire. It's actually what I wanted to talk to you about...That thing...is responding to you. It wasn't responding to me. And I've been here, bitter and angry for a while now."
"Bitter and angry?" Castiel repeated, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"You had an outburst, the Scripture starts glowing. What does that tell you?" Balthazar sighed. "Don't get me wrong...I really wish it wasn't this way."
Castiel didn't know what he meant by that, but as Balthazar backed away from him as though braced for an explosion, Castiel lowered his hand fully, could feel more of the rock underneath the Scripture, but something transferred into him in that moment. He heard Balthazar cry out his name behind him as his body jerked, yet he couldn't break the connection. A surge of crimson power entered him, tendrils of red lightning steady running up and down his body in fast currents.
And then it stopped, whatever was holding Castiel dropped him and he was left panting on the ground with his hands sprawled in front of him. He felt out of breath, with no air in his lungs. Pretty soon he might have hacked up a lung. Sure felt like it. But nothing came out. His entire body felt like it had been through meat grinder and then reformed.
"Hello Castiel," The voice did not come from within the room, it spoke in his head. Castiel looked up, swiveled to look at Balthazar if he had spoken but Balthazar was frozen in place, unmoving. His mouth still shaped Castiel's name and he was half extended towards him. Time had...stopped?
The voice itself rung inside Castiel's mind. Like what he felt when he held a hand over the Scripture, it was familiar, yet he was also quite certain he had never heard it before either...a paradox.
"What is this?" Castiel asked, struggling to his feet. Time had definitely stopped. But how? That was impossible magic. Even Raphael, a decorated Archangel and general of heaven's army could only slow time to execute an attack, he never had full control of time.
Just like Castiel, who had the ability to make someone forget an incident, did not have Dean's power to infiltrate other memories, take them away...
That should have registered to him in that moment, but all he could think of was that he was talking to a glowing piece of paper with red letters on the surface. It spoke again, and the words grew brighter, again in that unfamiliar script.
"A time spell. Quite temporary. Temporary enough for me to speak to you," said the voice in his head. It sounded strangely childish. Everyone always said that the inside voice always sounded different from the outside one...but this one sounded like a boy of about eleven or twelve, but there was subtle tenors to it, like a few others were speaking with him.
"What are you?" Castiel asked. "Why am I able to hear you...inside my head? Did you Link to me?"
"I suppose you could say that. I am connected to you, if that is what you're asking," said the boy. "But time is short, and there are things you must understand if you are to continue on your path any further."
"What are you?" Castiel asked again, this time with more bite in his tone.
" I have many names, most of which you could not properly say...but I suppose by your definitions, my name is Dominion," said the boy. "Or I suppose...I am the memory of Dominion. I am what is left."
"Left of what?" Castiel lost patience quickly. "I don't have time for this. Dean is fighting Dante on the white plains and if I don't get to him in time..."
"Yes," The boy agreed. "But the battle you speak of has already concluded. The demon has fallen."
"What?! I have to get there. Now," said Castiel, and he actually turned around, catching sight of the unmoving Balthazar. "If you would, please."
"Do not worry," said the boy. "It is the first of many battles between Law and Havoc. Such is the way of this world. As it has always been."
"Law and Havoc?" Castiel echoed him. "You mean Dean and Dante."
"Those are titles you call them...but their true designations are quite different," The boy replied. "Like you."
"Like me?" Castiel glowered. "What? I'm a word too? That's nice."
"You are more than that...In time, you will come to understand what you are and what you are a part of...But that is something you are not ready to hear. You seek a way out of Treachery."
"Of course. I've been seeking that since I entered this realm. Don't tell me, you know a way out," said Castiel.
"Yes, there is a way out of Treachery, but there is a cost to utilizing this way," said the boy. "Do you wish to know it?"
"There's always a cost," Castiel muttered under his breath, but he cleared his throat and spoke normally. "Yes, I do. What is the cost?"
"The walls surrounding this circle of Hell have been breached before. Entry is easier than escape... but there is a way," said the boy.
"How?" Why did he beat around the bush? Get to the point. It came to his realization that if he came from the Scripture and if it was as old as Balthazar seemed to imply, then the "boy" talking this way was probably just because he was created in a different time.
"You must summon the Archangel. It is only through his power that you will be able to leave this realm," said the boy.
"The Archangel?" Castiel scratched his head in confusion. "There is no Archangel here. Balthazar is not an Archangel...I certainly am not and neither is Dante. We're the only...angels, if you have to be technical. Everyone else is either human or demon here.. This realm is closed off from the others...there's no way to summon an Archangel here."
"You are right...but also wrong," The boy said. God, it was frustrating to speak to him. Almost everything he said was a riddle or a code. "Dante is traveling as we speak to the location. He seeks what you seek, a way out of this realm, but his wish is tainted by the need for vengeance."
"Dante seeks a way out through summoning an Archangel? Why? He's left here before hasn't he...?"
"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 wanted into the camp. At first, it was a simple passing thought Castiel had that he wanted to kill all of Dean's loved ones. Merrick. Lilith. Carmen. Sam...John? But if that was the case, wouldn't he kill him right there when he had the chance before Dean spewed his challenge?
"He seeks the Archangel," said Castiel slowly. "You know, most of them are already dead. Raphael, Gabriel...They're all dead. As I've said, this realm is closed, even if there is one that has the title topside, they're not going to hear us from all the way down here. And even if they did, who would they possibly listen to? Every single one of us is a tainted being. We're the worst example of Fallen, Demon and treacherous human spirit here...No Archangel in their right mind would hear any of us out."
"Search the truth in your heart, Castiel and you will feel familiarity with the unknown," said the boy.
Godamnit. Fat lot of help this "Dominion" was being.
"What the hell does that even mean? Speak normally," Castiel snapped.
"The Archangel can only be summoned by a being of purity with a selfless heart. Only then, may a prayer be answered, even in a realm such as this," said the boy. "Havoc does not seek escape, he seeks vengeance. He will use the prayer of the pure heart soul to summon the Archangel and create the Divine Circle."
The Divine Circle. It was not something Castiel had heard of in a long time and it was not something that was ever in his normal day to day conversation even when he was considered a celestial being. It was a term used in study. A Divine Circle was similar to a Dimensional Door. It was a doorway that passed between realms. It was different in that it didn't require a payment to pass through it. It embodied the holy power of the Archangels.
"Why does he need the Divine Circle to enact vengeance? He's left here before," said Castiel. "Does he plan to take the fight to the mortal realm? Why not use his way and not the Archangel's?"
For the first time, Castiel could sense the "Dominion" child hesitate. He could not see him to confirm it, but he didn't need to. It took a long time to answer, almost as if it didn't want to.
At some point, even Lucifer was considered an Archangel. He wondered if Dante had already disposed of the person he needed, but he wasn't that stupid. In the short time of knowing him, he got a pretty good idea of how Dante worked. He had a plan, and usually he had a backup plan to fall back on too. He never took things at face value...
Even this whole ordeal, was something he planned. He planned on coming here. He planned on bringing Castiel. He probably didn't count on Castiel growing his conscious back and becoming aware fully of his actions...But if Balthazar being dragged here was not evidence of a backup plan, he didn't know what was.
He looked back at his frozen friend, who kind of shimmered from the light. He must have tried to use Balthazar...to create the Divine Circle. It must have failed because Balthazar was not an Archangel.
"He tried to use Balthazar for it...But it didn't work. Because he's not an Archangel...He's still just a Commander. A soldier," said Castiel, mostly speaking to himself, wording his thoughts out loud.
"There is much to this you do not yet understand...and much you cannot stop," said the boy softly. "Dante seeks not only the Archangel's power to create the Divine Circle. He seeks the power that cursed the Archangel to this realm."
"T-to this...," Castiel nearly stuttered. "To this realm? What are you saying? I thought you said it required summoning...You're saying that the Archangel is already here? Who?"