Mary didn’t back away when he moved closer. She’d stood toe to toe with powerful, frightening creatures, and she wasn’t going to be intimidated by his posturing. She’d come prepared and done of course done research on Kylar. “Well, they call you a prince of hell.” A pause, she raised her brows, watching before divulging further. “I’m guessing it would have started slow, like it did with my son. He was a knight o hell.” Her voice was cool and even despite the sting the thought of Dean’s pain brought. “Probably had some anger issues, got in a lot fights. Killed someone. Maybe had a couple times where you slaughtered a lot of people that you didn’t really mean to.” Was she getting warm? Hell, she hoped so. “By then it was something you couldn’t even control. It took over you…like a disease. But you didn’t care. You liked it.” 

_{She was far more than simply warm about what had happened, but it wasn’t entirely the same. The anger, the hate – it was always there. Had been for as long as he remembered. He fought against it, even made sure to run from it, but be it as it may… destiny came either way. That was something no one could deny.  Not even him. “You’re on the like warm side of things,” he said, “You think of it in a way that’s black and white, don’t you? Anytime in that… slow progression, I could have changed my ways, or maybe someone could have helped – life isn’t that simple. It’s not black and white… and not a disease.”}