~~~~~~~~Sean's POV~~~~~~~~~

The next few days passed about as slowly as we'd all expected. That didn't make it any easier, on any of us. I kept close to Mark, who grew more anxious by the hour, his temper always seeming to bubble just below overflowing. The angels came and went, the constant sound of doors slamming became white noise in the background.

Thomas was the only one who checked up on any of us, he'd walk in with a smile making simple small talk, offering us food, stuff like that. However, as time went on his smile faded, and he'd resorted to one- or two-word responses, before not even sparing a glance. I could feel the stress grow throughout the house, feel it coming off everyone in waves, well... all except one...

Dark seemed to be calmer than I'd ever seen him. It's not the noble stillness he had at the very beginning, always daring to be pushed over the edge, no he seems truly calm. He hardly moves from the chair in the living room, not that I think the angels would let him anyhow, but he doesn't seem to mind.

He sits, legs crossed underneath him for almost three straight days, occasionally offering a small amount of input if directly questioned, helpful in nature. He either stares off at nothing, a quiet expression of thoughtfulness over his features, or closes his eyes to lean back in the cushioned, leather chair. I know for a fact demons don't need to sleep, but he almost looked like he was.

I'd find myself staring when he got like this, not for any particular reason other than the fact he looked virtually human in these moments. But just as quickly his eyes would open, and those unnaturally colored irises would meet my wandering gaze. I instinctually look away, each time without fail, however when I do manage hold his eyes for more than a couple seconds he gives me this smile that forces me to look away. He doesn't speak to Mark or me for these few days, he just kind of stares. Mark occasionally lashes out, but still the demon doesn't speak, it's creepy in all honesty, but I'm almost thankful for the lack of mockery.

Once it hit day four I felt almost ready to back out of this entire plan, but any thoughts of that instantly go out the window as the angel's flood into the room. It's the first time they've been grouped together for these passing days.

I assume Angels don't require sleep, just like demons, but one look and they all seem to desperately need it. They look exhausted beyond relief, I'd feel bad if the situation were different, but I find myself unable to give a damn.

"Alright,"

Emma speaks up first, hoarse voice only adding to her overworked state.

"We leave tonight, Thomas has arranged our transportation and a few secure checkpoints once we pass through. We'll stay for no longer than a week, and within that time Sean will make contact with Antisepticeye, and we'll do what we can to capture him."

She addresses no one in particular as she moves through the vague plan, after a moment her eyes land on me, a hardened expression glassing over any blatant fatigue.

"I trust you'll be able to distract him?"

I swallow back a lump in my throat. That's the one part of the plan I'm so unsure about. I trust the angels can do their part, but can I do mine? Will Anti really give a damn about me, and better yet will he let his guard down enough to allow the others to get in close? Thinking back to what Dark had said, memories are a great way to go, lord knows I have plenty of his memories. I try to think back to when he still resided in my head, to all the times he seemed almost human, recalling those I almost believe I can reach whatever humanity the creature may still contain, if there's any. But will that be enough.

I feel my gaze wander over to the chair across the room, red eyes meet mine, staring with not the mockery I'd expect but quiet contemplation. Before I can even think through the words, my mouth begins moving.

"I don't think he'll listen to me alone..."

I think back again to my conversation with Dark, shoving back a shiver as I do. The one other weakness he'd mentioned, one I myself should have known from the start.

"I need Dark with me..."

A smile plasters over the demon's gray-scale face, eyes dancing with a mix of amusement, and victory. He knew from the beginning we'd need him, yet hearing it aloud almost seemed to confirm something for him, I force my gaze away, looking again to the female standing in front of me.

I can feel Mark's incredulous gaze, but choose to ignore it, almost sighing in relief when Emma speaks up before he can argue.

"Alright, he is to remain cuffed however."

I nod in quick agreement, hearing a small scoff from the demon we speak of though he keeps any opinions quiet.

"Nate. Did you get the chains from our weaponry?"

Her eyes dart to the named male in the room. He stands off to the side out of view seemingly on purpose. Any bitterness he had didn't seem to leave, rather it appeared to have festered just below the skin, though he stays silent except for a curt nod. Eyes shining with something else I don't have time to place before he looks away.

"Nate, Thomas, and I won't be far when Dark and Sean speak to Antisepticeye, us and a few of our brethren will be ready to strike as soon as we can."

"What about me, what can I do?"

Mark speaks up for the first time in hours, arms crossed over his puffed-out chest, and words containing a soft annoyance. Emma looks to him with a bit of sympathy.

"We'll have you wait at the final checkpoint with others, I assume Sean may need some emotional support after this, that's where you'll come in."

Clearly, it's a stretch, they don't think Mark is really needed in this scenario, but It's almost a comfort to know he'll be there. I reach over to rest my hand on his thigh before he can argue with this, shooting him a warning look, he stays silent.

"We leave at a quarter to two, I suggest you two get some rest, it's going to be a long week..."

She addresses Mark and me. I give a slight nod, giving a small squeeze to Mark's thigh as I stand, he follows suit. I shoot a look at the clock hanging above the television as we depart. 3pm... less than thirteen hours... I feel any previous tension come back full force.

I'm not ready.

**

As soon as the door closes behind us, the darkened spare bedroom we'd called our own for these past few days slowly coming into focus as my eyes adjust, Mark speaks up.

"I don't like this, I should be with you when you speak to him...."

I sigh, turning to face the man with an almost apologetic look.

"I know... but we can't risk it... Trust me, it will be fine..."

"I trust you Sean, it's him I don't trust..."

I don't need to ask who he refers to; the vicious tone of his voice makes it clear. Dark. I nod my head in quick agreement, I don't like the idea of being alone with him for any period, but sacrifices must be made. If anyone can bring Anti off his power high, it's Dark.

"You think I do? You heard Emma... he'll be cuffed, there's nothing he can do to me."

A quaver in my voice gives it all away, and Mark with his psychiatric knowledge catches it quicker than I can myself.

"You don't even believe that... He's manipulative Sean, he'll try to get to you..."

I don't need him to tell me that, an involuntary wince is my only response.

"I just hate that I have to stand by while you do this... I wish I could help..."

"You are helping!"

I cry out the words in a soft tone, reaching out to grasp his warm hand, he instantly returns the grip.

"Just knowing you're there, knowing I'm not going into this alone... That makes all the difference Mark..."

I move closer to him until I can feel the warmth from his body, hear the pounding of his chest, and pick up the musky scent I've come to consider as home. I let my other hand fall on his shoulder, meeting his warm, chocolate eyes with a look I hope conveys nothing but truth.

"You give me strength, Mark... You give me something to live for, hell you're the reason I'm still alive today."

I feel a smile pull on my lips, and allow it to spread over my cheeks, happy when Mark returns it with a smaller one.

"I love you Mark, and no matter what happens, I promise after this we will have a normal life... We'll be happy..."

He offers a small chuckle in response, and I lean into the hand that moves to my cheek, cupping it softly.

"I'm already happy with you..."

I don't get a chance to respond to his gruff whisper as his lips cover my own. I relish in the sweetness I've become familiar with, and the gentle touch on my skin. It lasts only a second, but for that second everything almost seems okay. I feel myself lean towards that delicate warmth as he pulls away, instantly missing the intimacy.

Mark merely chuckles, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Get some sleep... "

I only nod.

**

My eyes open, it's dark but I can tell I'm no longer in the bedroom.

It's cold.

That's the first thing I notice. It's not a pleasant chill, one that signified the coming autumn or winter, instead it's a thick blanket of ice. It settles over the dark room like a fog, assaulting my senses, and slashing through any warmth my skin may contain. I feel shivers rack my body before it falls into a familiar numbness, the cold seeping through to my bones until I'm almost unsure it's there at all.

My eyes adjust slowly, and I almost wish they didn't. I've never been here before, but there's almost a familiarity about the air, the musty stench of decay with something darker buried just under the surface.

It takes a moment for me to realize it's not just the lack of light that makes it hard to see, rather the fact everything seemed to be coated in a thick black. Obsidian floors below my feet carved in intricate designs, quietly taunting my eyes with their twisting forms. Dark obsidian walls to match, small copper lights lay spread out, almost two feet apart along the walls, despite the darkness I can almost see the white wax of candles resting in each encasing.

A deep purple rug sits below my bare feet, large and centered adding just a bit of color, it almost attempts to make this cage-like room homely. My vision adjusts further to the new faded room, and just out in front of me I can make out a set of stairs, there must be at least twenty, leading up to a raised platform high above the floor, intimidating in a way. Atop that there is a collection of throne-like chairs, each a dark oak that almost matches the black around, with a colored sash draped across the back, blue, red, green, yellow, etc.

The council

My brain supplies the words helpfully recalling the talks I've had with either demon about the so called "council" that reigned over things down here. I suppose that would make this a type of throne room, and suddenly I know why this place feels so strangely familiar.

The bone-chilling air, the musty stench that I can't quite place, the lonely darkness... It brings up memories that aren't my own, memories I'm still trying to forget. Memories of blood, pain, tears, insanity.

"no no no no no..."

A quivering, soft chant of a single word, I almost don't notice it comes from my mouth.

Hell, I'm in Hell.

I feel my legs weaken beneath me, and it takes every bit of strength to take a few steps backward from the raised platform, that is until a voice stops me short.

"How did you get here...?"

A familiar voice drenched in foreignness, I turn on my heel to face it. I was ready to meet those eyes, that didn't make it any easier. Neon green irises among an inky blackness where the whites were supposed to be, a chilling amount of aggravation dancing through with specks of a darker color. I feel a lump form in my throat.

He still wears my face, not a surprise given the Dark situation, but that doesn't make me any less uneasy. He's paler than me, something I hadn't thought possible, his eyes are weighed down by dark bags beneath them, sunken cheeks and chapped lips curled into a confused frown.

He looks thinner, yet not any weaker, and instead of the black ripped jeans, and black t-shirt I'd almost come to expect from him, he wears something more regal. Black pants, made of a leather-like material, accents of a silvery color trim the waist and down the sides of his thighs. A tunic of the same color, made of a thicker leather to act as almost a suit of armor, long sleeves cover his pale arms, the sleeves decorated with intricate designs of silver and gold, moving up to meet in the center of his chest with a symbol, I don't recognize, decorated with splashes of forest green.

"How... Did you get here, Sean..."

He asks again, irritation growing each syllable. He paces forward as I try to find the words to speak, black combat-style boots making a soft thump against the stone floor, his eyes are half covered by an unkempt mane of hair atop his head, it's mostly brown, however tints of green decorate the ends, as if its in desperate need of a new dye-job.

"I-I... I don't know... I-I- "

A simple raise of his hand silences me, I feel his eyes roam over me. I'd almost feel self-conscious in my sweats and baggy t-shirt if I could get rid of the numbing chill that once again racked my body, this time I don't' think it's from the cold.

"You're dreaming..."

He mutters the words mostly to himself, regardless I feel a small bit of tension leave my muscles. I'm dreaming... but does that mean...

"A-Are you real?"

I finally manage a semi-coherent sentence, he looks to me again, scanning my face with his predatory eyes. He gives a curt nod, moving to pace around me, I resist the urge to follow him with my eyes, silently panicking every time he went out of my sight. I doubt he'll hurt me, honestly, I do, but something about the energy he gives off is so petrifying it aches.

"You're not really here... Still it's strange you're dream-scape led you here..."

He continues speaking, pacing around slowly. He almost looks like a super-villain, I'd laugh if the situation were different, or maybe I wouldn't...

"I suppose I never properly severed our connection... Never-mind... I'll wake you up, forget you ever saw me."

He raises his fingers in the position of a snap.

"Wait!"

The word leaves me before I can stop it, a mix of interest and exasperation enters his eyes, I feel my face flush.

"I heard what you did.... The council..."

He raises a bushy eyebrow, silently urging me to hurry along with whatever I had to say. I swallow the lump in my throat, for some reason I can't speak above a murmur.

"I know what they did to you but... I-It's time to stop all this... Y-You're hurting people, Anti..."

His eyes narrow, and a new rage overcomes his features. I hardly manage to stifle a yelp as he rushes forward, until we stand face to face and I can smell the decay on his icy breath.

"I'm only hurting those who deserve it, those who served those monsters. You of all people should understand this, understand what it's like to be locked up, hurt...!"

His eyes alight with a certain anguish that only seems to feed the fury of his words.

"I-I k-know but..."

"You..."

He cuts me off with a quiet whisper, I almost wish he'd go back to yelling, it's somehow less frightening.

"You reek of... them..."

His eyes are wide now, wildly moving over my features which I'm sure twist into fear. His voice grows harsh at the end, static lacing his words, for a second I almost doubt they came from a living creature. I can't stifle the cry this time as his hand reaches forward to tangle in the collar of my sleep-shirt. My feet just barely lift from the ground with his vice-like grip, making breathing difficult as it tightens the neckline of my shirt.

"Angels... They sent you..."

I feel myself struggle against his grip, but I don't feel in control of my actions. It's almost like watching someone else in this position if not for the fear pounding along to my pulse.

This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream.

The mantra plays through my mind, he can't hurt me in a dream right...?

Just as suddenly as he'd grabbed me, he lets go, my legs give out beneath me. The ground does nothing to soften the fall, and I feel something twist in my wrist, with a soft whimper I feel myself move away from the demon who watches me with a new interest. Wide eyes looking almost worried for a split second before that dissipates into realization.

"They're coming aren't they..."

I don't need to speak up, he has his answer. Turning his back to me I take notice of the shaking of his hands, whether it be rage or something else I can't tell.

"I suggest you don't' go with them..."

His voice grows human-like again, if not for the small glitchy tone it always had. He almost sounds sympathetic. I feel my gasping breaths slow.

"I don't' want to hurt you... but I'll do what I must..."

I don't' have a chance to answer, with a snap of his fingers, my vision goes black.

**

I dart up, hand instinctually moving to my throat. It must've closed, as breathing is almost impossible for the first few panicked seconds. Once I can get a gasp of a breath in, do I let my eyes take in the bedroom around me and the calmly sleeping form beside me. My hand moves from my throat to my chest, the sleep-shirt rumpled around the area, underneath my heart pounds loudly, I almost worry it'll wake Mark.

I let my hand move to push sweat-soaked strands of brown from my forehead, hardly noticing the shiver of my hand, and the darting of my gaze.

I force myself to lay down, silently listening to the even breaths of Mark beside me and forcing my own to match it. It takes only a few minutes before I find myself able to think clearly.

Anti... was he real? He seemed real, but how the hell...? If he was real, and I find myself believing he was, my imagination isn't that great, he knows about the plan. He knows about me, and he knows about the Angels... Which means there's only one thing he doesn't know about, one thing that we have over him.

Dark.