Someone was tapping at his forehead. Dean swiped a hand in front of his face, 'leave m' 'lone,' he mumbled, opening his eyes blearily. No one was touching him, at least not any more.

Sitting up it was clear that things were...different. The ground underneath him was marble and the grand house itself unfamiliar. Dean pulled his arms in front of him; they were bare, but covered in a layer of dirt and dried blood. There were strange symbols carved into his arms, old-looking wounds that had scarred.

He stood and paid attention to his surroundings; a huge marbled room with a chandelier that was pulling away from the ceiling, sparkling crystal brushing the filthy ground. At the far end of the room there was a scaffold. He made towards it, brushing a hand over his hair as he walked and finding it a little longer than usual.

On top of the scaffolding there was a metal box, far taller than he was, symbols carved into it that were similar to the ones on his arms. Dean climbed up onto the scaffolding and leaned close to it, peering in through one of the gaps in the metal that the symbols made.

There was a man on the floor inside the box, naked and kneeling. Dean was about to move away again when the man turned his head, bright blue eyes seeking him out and fixing his gaze.

'It's you, but not NOW you,' Castiel's voice had been rough before, now it sounded torn. The hallmark of damaged vocal chords from screaming too long, Dean mused, watching the angel stand and move towards him. He wasn't covered in the symbols that marked his own skin, but there was a pattern of scars and new wounds that covered most of his body.

'Who did that?' Dean asked, no shred of concern in his voice. Something that could harm an angel could definitely harm him too.

Castiel had drawn closer until he was almost pressed against the inside of the box, 'you did. Or, you will,' he said, trying to get a better look outside of his cage. 'This is what happens if he wins.' Just as there had been no concern in Dean's voice, there was no entreaty in Castiel's.

'So, Lucifer is letting me keep you, like a pet?' he asked, noting with vague curiosity that Castiel's face was unmarked.

Castiel shook his head a little, 'no, he told you to destroy me, but you didn't.'

'Why not?' Dean asked, scratching at his dirt encrusted arm.

'You said something about destroying a piece of heaven. I don't think it's important,' The angel had turned away from the gap, staring at the inside of a cage he couldn't possibly find anything new in.

'You don't, huh?' Dean gave a huff of amusement. After that comment Dean thought he knew why he'd kept Castiel around. He hadn't managed to break him.

'Mr Winchester.' A voice at the other end of the room. Weird accent, British maybe? Dean turned around and just looked. He still had no idea what he was doing here. Castiel had said that this was what happened if Lucifer won. Dean supposed it was something to do with him.

'Mr Winchester, Mr Crowley wishes to speak with you, now if you-' the guy hadn't even finished when Dean's view of him was blocked by someone else. A shorter someone else, dressed neatly with shining shoes.

'How many bloody times, Archie? Not Dean. You don't announce me to Dean,' the new man snapped at the guy behind him. He started walking across the room, his hands pressed together in front of him. 'Sorry Dean, he hasn't got the hang of this announcing thing yet. I know you don't like the habit.'

Dean shrugged. Apparently he didn't like people announcing their arrival? So what. The man who had been introduced as Mr Crowley was still walking towards him. The other guy had vanished out of sight.

Crowley slid his gaze between Dean and the metal cage, 'not interrupting I hope,' he said with a smirk. Dean noticed that his eyes were bright red.

'He was giving his ideas on why I'm keeping him here,' Dean supplied. Crowley raised his dark eyebrows in mild surprise.

'You know me, nothing to say on that front.' Crowley held up his hands in a gesture of innocence.

Dean was getting impatient. 'What do you want, Crowley?' he snapped. This whole thing was putting him in a bad mood. He didn't know how he was here or why he was here.

'I hear you destroyed another group yesterday,' the shorter man said, without a trace of his former humor. Dean just watched, not understanding or sure he wanted to. 'There's only one group left now, rumor has it,' Crowley seemed to be expecting an answer.

'Sure,' Dean said, stepping off the scaffolding. He rubbed at his arm, wanting to ask the other demon what the marks cut into his arms were for. He couldn't see if it was just him – Crowley was wearing a dark suit that covered all but his hands and face.

'Dean, the others are getting antsy. You're taking away their wardrobe, and their clothes are getting tatty if you know what I mean.' Dean didn't. He shrugged again.

'They're killing all of the humans. Soon there'll be no one left to possess,' Castiel's voice provided from inside the cage.

Crowley looked towards the box then slowly back at Dean, 'feeling brave today is he?'

'So what do you want me to do?' Dean asked gruffly. If Lucifer was around then he must be calling the shots. If Crowley wanted something, why didn't he just go to him?

'Dean we've talked about this before. If the humans go, we will too. He'll start once the humans are gone – are you going to lead the hunt for us too?'

'What's it got to do with you anyway?' Dean asked, turning away from Crowley as though he knew anywhere he could go in this place. He didn't even know where this place was.

'Do you think he'll leave you alone, is that it? Maybe Sam will beg in there for you, and he'll grant a pardon?' Crowley was laughing at him, that annoying smirk always on his mouth.

'I think you better get out,' Dean said coldly, turning to stare at the other demon. In the time it took to blink Crowley was gone.

Dean turned back and looked up at the box. 'Dean.' Castiel seemed to know he was looking his way. 'Before you go, please...' He stared up at the box; Castiel's shape shifted inside. Dean didn't know what he wanted. There was silence for a moment, then that voice again 'I know you have the right weapon. Somewhere in the house, a sword that can kill an angel. Please. If you give me the sword I'll even do it myself.' Dean stared at the box a moment longer then walked away.

He walked out of the door, out to a city he didn't recognize.

The air was thick with the smell of sulfur and fire. In most directions he looked smoke was rising to the sky in the distance. in the distance smoke was rising to the sky.

Dean didn't walk far before he came across others. It was two demons, shoving at each other until they noticed him close by. They immediately stopped and turned to face him, lifting their chins but dropping their gaze. Awaiting orders, Dean thought.

'You,' Dean called, moving towards them 'what year is it?'

'2014, General,' answered one of them.

So this really was the future, and the demon had called him 'General'. Dean puffed up his chest and tried to look as important as he thought a general probably would.

'Do you need an escort, General?' asked the other demon 'it would be our honor to escort you to the palace.'

Dean's mouth drew into a considering frown; he didn't know if he could die here, but it seemed unlikely he was going to be doubted that far now. He just needed to make sure he didn't ask any stupid questions.

They walked about three miles, on pavements that were covered in scorch marks and gouges. A battle had been fought here. There were houses that looked as though they had been smashed from the top down, stores that looked as though something had been driven through the middle. As they walked there were a few others about, but they were all demons. Dean hadn't seen a single human since he'd woken up.

Eventually the demons came to a stop outside a building lined with columns.

'Would you like us to escort you inside, General?' the demon sounded excited about going inside, almost awed. Either they weren't allowed inside here, or it was a rare treat. If that was the case Dean wasn't about to draw attention to himself by dragging them in there.

'No, just wait outside,' he instructed, and headed inside.

The demons had called it a palace, but it had not been used that way by humans. It had been some sort of government building, Dean guessed. Inside it was colder, colder than the walk there had been. The same pillars that stood outside were inside as well, each one slick with a layer of frost.

There was no one in the lobby, but Dean could hear voices beyond the room. He moved through to what seemed to be a hall, leading to further rooms and a staircase. There were a few demons here; they looked like they were supposed to be guarding the area, but they weren't very attentive. It took them far too long to realize Dean's presence.

'General,' one of them exclaimed, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. 'I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you...' The guard demons stood looking uncomfortable, as though they were awaiting his instruction. Dean supposed he didn't usually stop to speak with guards.

'Up the stairs, I'm guessing?' Dean asked, eying the one who hadn't spoken. He was almost squirming. Dean smirked a little.

'As always, General,' the demon confirmed.

'I want you to come with me,' Dean told the squirming one, the one who couldn't quite meet his eye. He watched the meat suit swallow hard. He made a noise in his throat as the other demon glared at him.

'But, He...He doesn't like...' It was almost certainly Lucifer upstairs then.

Dean smiled, the sort of smile he used to offer people who didn't need much persuasion. Receptionists, assistants, note takers, people who were a barrier but didn't care so much about their boss that they wouldn't let a cute, harmless looking guy take a look.

'I know, but I'd really appreciate it.' That seemed to alarm both of the demons. Maybe his future self was bored of the charm game. As for his current self, well, he felt like a spider inviting in a fly for coffee.

The demon stepped forward, nodding his head slightly. He knew he didn't have much choice. No one would probably care if Dean killed him on the spot.

'Lead the way,' Dean said, swinging an arm forward towards the staircase.

The steps were made of solid marble, though someone had laid carpet across them. In the gaps Dean could see that the marble steps were slippery with ice. Seemed the demons were keen to keep their meat suits in good order if they were taking this much care.

There was just a single door at the top. The demon stopped, allowing Dean to enter first.

Dean pushed the door open; every surface was covered with white. The demon he'd brought with him did not follow him in. He had edged back from the door frame, pressing himself to the railing of the stairs.

Letting out a huff of annoyance Dean took a few steps back and shoved the demon over the railing. He hadn't been any fun at all.

'Dean,' a voice called him from inside the room. He knew it of course – it was Sam's voice, though a little different. It was softer, calm.

The room had probably once been quite ornate, but now it simply shone with thin layers of ice laid on top of each other. Apparently Lucifer's fire burned cold. Dean moved towards the voice, drawing towards the only figure in the freezing room.

Sam. Dean's gaze moved over his brother's face. Not Sam. His expression was wrong, Sam never wore that look.

'You aren't kneeling,' Lucifer said gently.

The idea of kneeling made something crawl in Dean's stomach, but he found himself lowering until his knees were pressed to the floor and his head was bowed in deference. After a moment he felt fingertips brush at the side of his head and tilted his head up to see Lucifer leaned forwards towards him.

'You've been playing with the angel.' Dean looked up at Lucifer, who was still bent forward, brushing his fingers through the hair at his temple. It seemed horribly affectionate. They were familiar enough for this, and yet Dean was still on his knees.

Dean didn't know how to answer – Castiel had said that Dean had been told to get rid of him, but he hadn't. Was he now in trouble with Lucifer? He set his jaw and decided to say nothing.

'Don't you think you've tortured him long enough?' Lucifer asked. Dean noted that there was a smile twitching at his lips. Perhaps he was being teased. 'Don't you think you should show mercy, Dean? My Father abandoned him down here, left him to your hands. If I release him, this lowly angel of yours, am I not becoming closer to the perfection my Father once held?'

Dean was certain a theological debate with Lucifer himself was one he wasn't going to win. He himself didn't care what Lucifer did to the angel – maybe the future Dean had – but this Dean could see that his loyalty should lay firmly here.

'Take him,' Dean said quietly, 'he should have been destroyed at your first instruction.'

Lucifer gave a lopsided smile, as though forgiving, pitying, handing out lessons to be learned. 'Stand, I wanted to speak with you.'

Dean shifted carefully to his feet.

'There are now only a small number of humans remaining,' Lucifer confirmed, moving away from Dean to the edge of the room. He lifted a hand and chipped at the ice on the wall, revealing daylight beneath, a window. 'We must begin now with the lower demons – they burn through their human hosts far too quickly, we cannot sustain them. I have instructed the Generals to begin at once.'

The demon Crowley who had visited earlier had been right – Lucifer was now destroying the demons.

Dean watched Lucifer chipping at the ice on the window, letting real light into the room. 'If you pressed your eye to the window, you could see them now,' he offered, without turning to look at Dean.

'I know what a dead demon looks like,' Dean said off-handedly. He'd killed enough of them. Mostly before becoming one himself.

'I suppose you do,' Lucifer said thoughtfully, turning now to look at Dean. 'Dean, I want you to understand that this is the last time this offer will be made. I want you to know that, truly, if I could have kept you by my side...' he trailed off, then seemed to gather together determination. 'Regardless. The offer is this – to speak with your brother one last time.'

Dean narrowed his eyes a little. Maybe this would have been something to future Dean, but he had seen his brother a short while ago, and he'd been nothing but annoying. Lucifer had put this to him as though it was a big deal though, so he decided that he ought to accept. He nodded.

Lucifer's brow creased with a frown. Dean watched as his expression changed from mild concentration to abject horror. It was Sam's mouth that fell open to a silent scream, Sam's hands that clenched as the cold bit at them.

Dean stepped forward, 'Sam? You okay?' Stupid question. His brother had been locked inside Lucifer for years. Sam stared at him, the same horrified expression twisted on his face. 'Say something, dammit.'

'Y-You!' was what Sam bit out, 'you should have stopped this!' Sam reached behind him then brought a knife from behind his back.

It was too late when Dean realized that it was Ruby's knife – it was buried to the hilt in his chest.

Dean woke up with a jolt. He was blocked by a body as he tried to sit, and made a fist ready to swing at the person above him.

The angel.

The church.

Dean gave a shout of anger and frustration, but the angel was still above him, and he was doing something. He was trying to wedge his hand against Dean's shoulder, right where the hand imprint was. He struggled and tried to kick out, but the angel was strong and pressed his hand over the mark.

Dean's resolve went weak; his muscles would no longer tighten into fists or kicks, and his mind felt quieter than it ever had.

'What have you done?' he asked the angel slowly, forcing out each word on a breath.

'What I'm offering you is peace,' Castiel said 'at the end of it all, you'll be peaceful and at rest. I can make that happen, if you help me.'

It was hard to form thoughts, let alone words. Dean simply looked up at the angel.