Sam sat on the chair outside of the cabin and carved.

Lucifer stood next to him, watching him work. "That's actually quite beautiful. Exquisite craftsmanship. You should quit your day-job. Oh. Wait..."

Sam chuckled, turning the horn slightly to continue his carving "It's not half bad." He worked for a few more minutes, intensely focused, and finished the lettering.

"The Lightbringer's fire burns cold." Lucifer read and brought a hand to his heart. "Sam, I'm touched, really. You actually remembered all my little nursery rhymes."

"You spoke to me in Enochian for eighty years. I guessed I picked some up."

"Eighty-three, actually." Lucifer said. "So, what are you planning on doing with this little trinket?"

Sam stared up at him, "I hadn't really thought about it. It just...it felt like the right thing to do." He stood up and started walking towards the trees surrounding his cabin. His feet carried him forward, and he stopped by a large, old tree. He dropped the bone dagger into the leaves by his feet, pulled out his pocket knife, and started to carve into the bark.

"Because that ain't how it works!" Bobby yelled, exasperated.

"Well then what good is it?" Dean yelled back.

"It'll tell you where he is within a few miles. That's the best we can do, but I'm tellin' you- this might not work at all. These kinda spells...they're risky." Bobby eyed the page again and studied the ingredients on the table. They had everything. Well, almost everything. "He might know you're coming."

Dean pulled out his pocket-knife and sliced a shallow cut across his thumb. He squeezed a few drops of his blood into the bowl of herbs and looked over to Bobby. "How - because of his powers?"

Bobby swallowed, "That too, but - he might feel the spell. You're using your blood to find him. It doesn't get much more direct then that, metaphysically speaking."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "Metaphysically, huh?"

Bobby glared at him and handed him the page describing the spell. "Quit gabbin' and get to chantin'."

Sam started carving again and frowned at the weak sunlight. He looked up at the cloudy sky and wondered how much time he had before the rain started.

"Guess you'll have to move your art-therapy session indoors for tonight, champ."Lucifer said, standing up.

Sam folded his pocket-knife back up and was about head indoors when he saw two figures walking towards him.

Dean drove as quickly as he could without attracting attention.

Idaho. Sam was in Idaho. He could be there with him in eight hours. Less, if he pushed.

Sam woke up with a scream in his throat. He stared up at the ceiling of the cabin and tried to slow his heart down. His gut was churning, his mind was racing, trying to remind him of something, but he couldn't think of what. Someone had found him, and he'd been so angry, and then -

The ceiling above him caught fire and lit up the cabin with its bright glow.

"Sam." Jess said from above him. She looked down at him with sorrow. "Sam, what are you doing?"

Sam's voice wavered as he said, desperately, "Lucifer. Don't - please, don't be her."

Lucifer's voice came from Sam's right. He was sitting on the floor playing with the box of matches. "There you go again - always blaming me for everything." he sighed, "After everything I've done for you."

Jess smiled at Sam, "It's okay baby. You can't help it. You were just defending yourself."

Sam's head throbbed and he could feel memories trying to push forward but they didn't make any sense - he just saw flashes, of Lilith, Alistair - there was screaming and -

"It's not your fault." Jess said. Her hair was made of fire, as was her nightgown. The rest of her remained untouched, and she smiled down at Sam, serenely.

"Jess. I - I don't remember. What did I do?"

The fire covered what was left of Jess and went out, but the ceiling wasn't empty. Someone was still there.

Sam stared up into the dark, but couldn't see who it was. It was a woman, he thought - smaller than Jess. He startled as something dripped on his forehead. He reached up with his thumb, swiped at the wet spot and brought it down to his lips. He shuddered at the taste and whispered, "Ruby."

"Sam." Ruby said, from above him. "I'm so proud of you."

More drops fell from above, landing on Sam's cheek, his nose, his mouth...he kept thinking he should move, but he couldn't - or he didn't want to. He stared up into the dark, trying to make out Ruby's face.

"Go back to sleep Sam. It's all gonna be okay." she said, and her voice was close, so much closer.

Sam reached up and felt her. She was hovering above him, a foot away at most. He ran his fingers through her hair, and tried to wrap his arms around her, tried to pull her down towards him. He felt something, he felt flesh and then it came apart. It all came apart and blood poured over him. It ran over his legs, his chest, his face and he screamed, and he didn't understand, he just...didn't.

Dean ran through the forest as quickly as he could. He had to find Sam, quick. The spell had shown him where to go - he'd have to do a real thorough search when he got there, he had a lot of ground to cover, but at least he had a goal.

He ran for hours as the dawn turned into bright daylight. He didn't stop running until he smelled smoke.

Sam felt like he'd been arguing with the Devil, with himself, since he'd woken up. He was still sitting on the bed, picking at the deerskin cover he'd made for the mattress, and he was getting more aggravated by the minute.

"You really don't remember?" Lucifer asked as he shifted out of Nick's form. He looked like Sam again, but he was covered in blood - the stains were so dark they were black.

Sam stood up, walked over to Lucifer, and glared at him. "At least clean up."

Lucifer raised his hands, his bloody hands, up in a defensive gesture. "Hey - don't get mad at me. I'm just a mirror. This is all you, kiddo."

Sam looked down at himself. His shirt was as soaked as Lucifer's. So were his hands. His legs gave out and he fell on the floor. He clutched at his hair and said, "I don't remember, why don't I remember?"

"Because you don't want to. Except then again, maybe you do. Part of you does, or..." he gestured at himself, "I wouldn't look like Carrie."

A piercing headache flared through Sam, and he rubbed at his temple. "There were two people. A couple." Sam could see their faces - two hikers, in their twenties. The girl had her hair in braids and the guy had been wearing glasses. "They - they wanted to stay here because of the rain." Sam put his hand on the floor and pushed himself back into a crouch, then stood up and started pacing. "Then I..."

Lucifer walked past Sam and out of the cabin. Sam followed him, with a sinking feeling. Lucifer walked to the side of the cabin and stopped, standing next to a pile of dirt.

"I invited them in, but then-" Sam doubled over in pain and hissed, "It was Lilith...and Alistair!" Sam remembered. He remembered their eyes changing. White, empty, wicked eyes and he'd been so angry.

"You killed both of them. Do you remember when you killed them? Back in that meat packing plant, back at the chapel?"

Sam shook his head, "Yes, I - but they said - they said, if I could keep coming back from the dead, why couldn't they? They said they were back and they were going to kill me and then Dean, and then I..." Sam felt his hands clench into fists, "I killed them. I lit them up from the inside, but they didn't die..."

"That's right, they didn't. What did you do then, Sam?" Lucifer started nudging the pile of dirt with his foot.

The soil shifted every time Lucifer kicked the pile. Sam walked closer to it and crouched down. He started pushing the dirt aside with his hands - his bloody hands. "I ripped their heads off, I tore them apart, but they kept talking, they kept laughing, even after I burned them," Sam dug through the soil, flinging handfuls of it to the side until he felt something solid, "...so I buried them back here."

Dean followed the smell of smoke for what felt like an hour, but he never found the source. He tried to call Bobby but couldn't get a signal. Of course he couldn't get a signal - not out here.

He felt like he was going crazy. He wasn't imagining the smell, but he couldn't find it. He slumped against a tree, exhausted and closed his eyes - just for a second. When he opened his eyes again, he saw something in the bark, right below his arm. He took a step back and stared. His name had been carved into the tree, along with an arrow pointing straight down. He crouched down and moved his fingers through the pile of leaves at the bottom of the tree until his fingers touched bone.

When Dean stood up again, moments later, he was somewhere else entirely.

Sam pulled at the rounded, large lump he found buried in the soil. He pulled it free and turned away from the smell. It was overwhelmingly rancid. He turned back and tilted his head, looking at the black ooze crusted around the neck. "This - this isn't human."

Lucifer laughed, "No. They're not human. Then again, neither are you."

Dean blinked in confusion and took a few steps back. He was standing next to a trailer. After a few steps he saw that it wasn't just a trailer, it was "Doug's Fish & Chips & Pop."

"Dean." said a familiar voice.

Dean turned and sat down across from Death. "You brought me here?"

Death took a sip of his drink and looked up at Dean, "Yes."

Dean fought back the urge to yell at the Horsemen. "Why?"

"I am neither a messenger boy nor a livery service, but I feel inclined to play both roles at this moment."

Glaring angrily at the table so he wouldn't say something stupid, Dean instead said, calmly, "I was trying to find Sam."

"Yes, but your brother doesn't want to be found. You would have spent days - weeks - running around in circles and you would have neverfound him. I have more important work for you to do than that."

Restraint forgotten, Dean snapped, "You have work for me? Like you had work for me when you told me to figure out the deal with Purgatory? That turned out great."

Death took a bite of his breaded fish and chewed it thoughtfully, before answering, "Despite your dismal failure, I'm willing to give you another task. Be grateful."

Dean was too stunned to answer.

After another long sip of soda, Death continued, "Your brother is much better off than I expected, in many ways."

"Well, he's not exactly a drooling mess, but he's -" Dean laughed bitterly, "he's not good.

Death nodded, "He's dangerous, and only occasionally aware of his surroundings, but he's also a very valuable asset."

"Asset?"

"For the last twelve hours, give or take, Sam has been beating himself up because he's convinced he killed two innocent hikers that found his hiding spot." Death folded his hands together.

"So...he didn't kill two innocent hikers?" Dean asked.

"No. He killed two Leviathans." Death said. Raising a long, bony finger, he pointed at Dean and added, "He also gave you a weapon. It won't kill them, but it will paralyze them. Long enough for you to chop off their heads, should you have an axe handy."

Dean reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out the little bone dagger he'd found by the tree. "What do you want me to do?"

Death smiled, "I want you to be bait."

"Come again?"

"I know you. You won't stay away from your brother." Death nodded at him, "So, don't."

"I don't - "

"The Leviathans are going to come after you both, especially when they catch the scent of their siblings' burnt flesh. Some of them are in town right now. Stay nearby, wait for them to find you, head back into the forest - as close as Sam will let you get to him, and..." Death gestured with a french fry, "the issue will resolve itself."

Dean stared at Death for a few seconds, nodded and said, "Okay."