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

I don't halt, I don't hesitate, I don't even look back towards Nate as I turn that doorknob, listening to the soft creak for a moment too long before stepping inside the dimmed room.

Dark hadn't sat back down, hadn't calmed in the slightest it seems. He paced as I entered, each step graceful despite how much fury they contained, I look down at the floor beneath him almost expecting it to be burned by his rage. He only stops as the door closes behind me. It takes a minute or two for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but I could feel his eyes on me without being able to actually see him. Only when I can see the silhouette of his form do I step in further.

Did he get taller?

I notice how he towers above me, chest puffed out in a clear show of dominance. Mark is taller than me by maybe an inch, so why does Dark seem much bigger. It takes me a minute to realize I'm slouching down, curling into myself instinctually. I silently cuss at my body, but my muscles don't seem to listen as I try to straighten up.

"Back so soon..."

His words are a statement rather than a question, but I nod anyway, ignoring the way his eyes trail over me. My eyes adjust a bit more, until I can make out the details of his torn suit and tousled hair. One thing is different, I can see his hands now cuffed in front of his torso, make out the unreadable symbols carved into the steel.

I narrow my eyes at this. He must have looped his arms around after we left, somehow that's worse.

"I'm sorry about what happened... But we really need to talk..."

He almost looks surprised at the apology; his eyes scan my face as if looking for indication of a lie. Finding none he gives a curt nod. He walks forward a bit, I feel my feet carry me backwards.

A small smile plays on the demons' pink lips, but he walks past me and around the twin sized bed that sits to the side of the spare bedroom he'd been forced to occupy. A shabby thing with a simple cream-colored comforter and a couple white pillows piled at the headboard. He sits on the edge and stares at me expectantly. Noticing my hesitance, he gestures to the space beside him on the mattress. I remain standing, feeling a bit better now that he doesn't glower over me. He looks almost amused at this.

"No Mark? I didn't think he'd allow you up here alone, Sean."

I try to ignore the way his words melt into a purr, the fact that his rage still bubbles just below the surface makes that all the more awful.

"I don't need a babysitter..."

I match his volume with an attempted snarl, that comes out pathetically feeble. Again, he grins.

"Maybe not..."

He murmurs the words, eyes never leaving my face.

"Regardless, I'm surprised you'd come alone..."

"Why's that...?"

I can't help the question from passing through my lips and bite my tongue as that gets me another amused gaze from the demon, he wants me to keep talking, and that makes me all the more unwilling.

"You're afraid of me, are you not?"

I feel my face drain at the tone in his voice. A certain sense of danger tingling the back of my neck. I quickly shake my head, feeling the denial run deep. Looking pleased the demon stands once again, and again I feel my stance waver. I cuss under my breath.

I'm not afraid of him... I'm not! It's just... He has a certain vigor about him, a manipulative kind of energy that dares anyone to challenge him. It doesn't help that those blood-colored eyes bring up all kinds of memories. Not my own necessarily, but it makes it clear what he's capable of, how far he's gone and how much farther he's willing to go.

The demon that looked so small not twenty minutes ago, now appears as the confident, cocky thing that steps towards me. I'm not sure what that anger Mark had tapped into did to him. All I know is my instincts screaming at me to run out the door. I push these aside. We need him, I just need to talk, put this plan back on track... easy... right?

"D-Dark, we need- "

"There's no need to act brave, Sean... You can't fool me."

Another step.

"Fear is a glorious thing is it not?"

Another step. I hardly notice myself backing up until my body hits the wall behind me, and the demon invades my personal space. His crimson eyes twinkle with a dangerous amusement, fueled by the anger sitting just below his skin.

He corners me against that wall with his frame alone, cuffed hands remain lax in front of him.

He doesn't emit the warmth a human would in this position, in fact he seems to almost drop the temperature around me by his presence alone. He offers a kind smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"The way your heart-rate picks up..."

His hands move up, the cuffs jangling almost musically with the movement, his knuckles of one hand reach up to drag over my chest as though feeling the rapid beating below the skin.

"Your skin pales, eyes widen, pupils shrink..."

His bound hands move further up as he speaks, trailing until his fingers meet the bottom of my chin, dragging it up to bring my eyes back to his face. I hadn't noticed they'd wandered away. I hardly listen to his words anymore, using every bit of my mind to remember how to properly breathe.

"I can see it, you want to run... Yet you can't move, can you? That's true terror... when your own body betrays you, terrible isn't it?"

I try to swallow past the lump slowly increasing in my throat. His one hand doesn't leave my chin, and the other one, cuffed not far behind, sits dangerously close to the soft flesh of my throat. I can feel the burn of a memory at the back of my eyes, headache pounding slowly behind.

"Still want to tell me you're not afraid?"

These words make it past the pounding of my heart, and the ringing in my ears. They come out a challenge. I feel the small need to speak up, to tell him I'm not afraid, to say something.

"I-I'm... I-"

The pathetic attempt at words elicits a low chuckle from the demon. He stands still for a moment longer, seeming to almost relish in the shallow breaths I take, and the shiver of my body. I tell myself it's because of the cold.

"So, what did say you wanted to talk about?"

A sudden change in demeanor causes me to outwardly flinch. His soft purr of a voice shifts without any warning to a warm, almost conversational tone, volume increasing noticeably as well. With these words he pulls away with an unnecessary strut to the bed again, plopping onto the mattress as if nothing had happened.

He grins as I don't move for a minute, however soon the feeling comes back to my muscles and my breaths come in easier. I still shake however, I again feel the need to turn and run right out of the room. However, knowing that's what Dark wants, I force myself to stay.

Calming the racing of my heart to a normal number of beats per minute I force myself to stand without help from the wall, taking note of the laughter dancing in those red orbs.

He doesn't look angry anymore, I almost want to count that as a win, apparently scaring the shit out of people is a great way to release that pent-up rage... Great...

"A-Anti... we need to talk about Anti..."

I speak up as soon as I feel I can trust my voice, it wavers slightly, but I thank the gods it doesn't fully shake.

Dark's eyebrows furrow, lips puckering to insinuate thought.

"Hm... Can I suggest a different topic?"

I force a glare to my eyes, only getting a small chortle in return.

"Weaknesses... I... We need to know his weaknesses."

The waver continues, my words seem to jumble together in nonsense, but regardless he responds oddly politely.

"He doesn't have any. He's basically a god."

Evident lie. I suck in a breath, pushing a few strands of brown from my eyes.

"Dark... Please..."

Maybe it's the exhaustion, maybe it's the remaining pounding in my head, or maybe I'm just desperate. Regardless of what the cause my voice comes out soft, pleading.

He raises an eyebrow, giving a look of something almost akin to sympathy, if it weren't for the pride beneath I'd have believed it.

"He's too emotional, talk about his past, that'll get him off guard..."

He begins in a simple tone, hands tugging at the loose fabric of his trousers habitually.

"Bring up the real painful memories, that'll bring him to his knees."

It's almost disheartening listening to his tone, it's blank, and almost uncaring as he spoke of the other demon.

"Anything else?"

I ignore these thoughts and keep focused on the matter at hand, ignoring the crack of light peeking through the bottom of the door appealingly. My body screams at me to move towards it.

Dark thinks for a moment, though I feel that's just a way to stretch this talk out. He doesn't need to spend the time thinking that he does.

"Well..."

He speaks up again, tone thoughtful, quiet.

"There is one thing he could never ignore..."

I raise an eyebrow in silent question as he pauses, taking a second to relish in the silence that grows between us. His eyes turn to meet mine, the red sparkling with hints of playfulness that almost make me want to slap the growing smile off his face.

"Me."

**

I rush out of that room as soon as I'm sure he has nothing more to say. I can see that smile still resting on his pale lips, and almost swear I can hear his deep chuckle as soon as the door clicks shut. The light of the hall brings almost a kind of warmth back to my trembling muscles. I feel my breathing even out, though it remains obnoxiously shallow, a tightness constricting my windpipe so much, so I can hardly catch my breath.

I walk, almost stumbling more like, down the stairs, clutching the wooden handrail with white knuckles. The house is silent except for the quiet television in the other room playing again. I follow that noise to the living room from before. Instead of seeing the entire group as I expected however it's only one form.

The man with tinted purple hair from before looks up, offering his trademark sympathetic smile, I attempt to return it though I'm sure it comes off as more of a grimace. He sits up on the sofa again making room for me to sit.

I lower onto the soft cushions with a murmured 'thanks', hardly noticing I'd sat on the cushion right beside him. A calming sort of aura comes off the man, and I feel my tense muscles relax a bit more as soon as I come closer.

"Where's Mark?"

The words come out a soft almost whimper, I internally slap myself for sounding like such a child. The man I now remember as Thomas responds kindly despite the tone, eyes moving to me again from the TV, which now played another cartoon I don't recognize.

"Blowing off some steam, he should be back soon."

I don't ask what that means, I saw how angry Mark had gotten and don't' want to know how he's dealing with that honestly.

"Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I give a curt nod.

"I suppose I kind of have..."

My pathetic attempt at a joke falls flat, Thomas however just turns to me, the television shutting off without him having touched the remote on the armrest. His eyes bore into me, seeming to carefully observe each crease in my face, I'm sure I look about as bad as I feel.

"What happened?"

I don't want to talk about it, a part of me at least really doesn't. However, I find myself turning to look at him, the tightness in my chest slowly receding and leaving just a hollow ache.

"I-It's nothing... Just Dark's stupid mind games..."

His eyes narrow with a quiet anger, though it's not directed at me I feel myself involuntarily flinch. He calms once again, as if it hadn't happened.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Again, I feel a part of myself answer no, but that's overpowered by another small nod of my head.

"I don't know, he just... he's just got an energy about him, y'know?"

Thomas nods, and I continue once he says nothing.

"I shouldn't be afraid of him, I know he can't do anything, but- "

The tightness returns to my chest and I feel the words catch just over my tongue, cutting off the sentence with a soft choke. Thomas offers a sympathetic smile, bordering on pity, his hand reaches out to fall on my knee and again I feel that as that tautness recedes from my windpipe.

He gives a little sigh before speaking.

"Sean, that's normal... Fear is an emotion none of us can control, what we can control is how we decide to use it."

I feel my head tilt in quiet contemplation.

"We can either take that fear and run... or we can use it to push forward, we can let it keep us grounded and move onward to do what we need to do... Ultimately you're in control Sean, don't let anyone take that away from you."

I feel a small smile tug at the corners of my lips. A certain kind of softness replacing the ache of my chest. That all is quickly pulled away from me as another figure enters the room. Nate.

He looks to me for only a second, his posture tense, and steps unsure. The movements don't unease me as much as the coldness in his eyes covering something much darker. He moves on quick feet to the angel sitting beside me, leaning down to his ear and murmuring a few quiet words. I can only make out one of them.

"Antisepticeye"

Once Nate had finished speaking I feel Thomas's hand tense on my knee, and a look at his face only grows my restlessness. His warm skin pales, eyes widen with something akin to fear, but he quickly covers that with a cold expression similar to that of his fellow angel. He stands, on stiff legs, and I feel myself tremble slightly again at the loss of closeness, at the loss of his calm.

He ignores me for the moment, addressing the other angel who stands at attention, the most serious about all this I've seen Nate all this time.

"Get Emma and Mark... We need to talk..."