I wouldn't mind writing out the aftermath of Dean's transformation. But I have so many stories on my plate as is and my head is buzzing with BuckyxSteve. But I had to write something after that finale. And it was supposed to be humorous, but I can already tell it's going to be schmoopish. Meh. Enjoy!~

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Nearly a month had passed since Metatron had been defeated and Dean had awoken as a demon. Crowley had taken him for a spell, but Dean soon went off on his own and Crowley allowed it. Dean had woken up shocked, in as much as a demon could be, and Crowley found that Dean made as interesting a demon as he had a man. His soul hadn't been burned out of him, it had been twisted into a demon in an instant, a Knight of Hell. So for all that he was a demon, the man he had been still burned within him.

He still loved his little brother and pet angel, blast all, but Crowley supposed he ought to have expected that by now. The Winchesters were...unique. All part of the fun though.

Sam and Castiel had gotten a taste of the demonized Dean; Sam had tried to exorcise him, Castiel had explained that he could still see Dean beneath the demon. And Dean, disgusted at himself and hurt in a way that only a Winchester demon could be, had taken off and flown off the radar.

He'd managed to hide himself from Castiel, and attempts to summon him were fruitless. Even Crowley couldn't hunt him down. If Dean Winchester didn't want to be found, then he wasn't going to be, he was a crafty little fellow when he put his mind to it.

...

"Are you sure this will work, Cas?"

"...It is the only option we have at this point." Castiel finally answered, and Sam translated that into a resounding no. But it was their only chance.

Dean had become a demon, a freaking Knight of Hell. At first, he had tried to exorcise Dean because it hadn't even occurred to him that he could just up and become a demon. But the Mark of Cain had pulled that off, and according to Castiel, despite how twisted it had become...the 'demon soul' was still Dean's soul. And Sam had seen it. Dean's black eyes had transformed back into his green ones, and despite how coldly Dean had spoken, Sam knew his brother too well. He recognized the self-anger and disgust, and he saw the hurt he'd caused Dean. Demon or not, his brother was still in there, and as Sam had said, he'd lied.

He was not, by any stretch of the imagination, okay with losing Dean.

Sam cut his finger with a knife and let his blood dripped into their spell bowl. Dean was still in his body and still connected by blood, it had taken some research, but Castiel believed they could forcibly summon Dean through their blood connection. Sam chanted in Latin as he lit a match and tossed it in, and a little flurry of sparks erupted. A huge devil's trap was laid out on the floor, and Sam and Castiel watched anxiously.

For his part, Castiel didn't seem to think any less of Dean for being a demon. He'd blamed himself, and felt he'd failed Dean. Sam had felt the same. And apparently it was easier for Cas to take the demonized Dean by virtue of the fact that he could see 'Dean's soul' and he was still 'the brightest he had ever seen'. And to some degree, their 'profound bond' was still written into Dean's soul, the soul Castiel had 'gripped tight and raised from perdition'.

But after a long moment, nothing happened, Dean didn't appear, and a disappointed Sam threw down the knife with a sigh. "Guess we're out of options..."

There was a sudden clatter, and Sam looked up just in time to see Dean land on his rear end as though dropped from the sky. He was dressed much the same, except that he had a long, black half-trench on, and his hair was a little longer. And he was sporting...a light beard? Dean had never liked facial hair, had never liked long hair, and Sam wondered if that had changed or Dean was simply not taking care of himself. He didn't know which would bother him more.

Dean cursed as he landed, and he quickly rose on the defensive. He drew up short as he took in Sam and Castiel, and then glanced down at the devil's trap with a grimace. There was a long silence before Dean looked back up, eyes black, and said coldly. "Figures it'd be you two."

Sam and Castiel exchanged a glance, and it made Dean want to punch something. That look...the one they'd given him when they tried to lock him up, the one they'd given him years ago in the panic room, the one Sam had given him when he'd drank himself into a stupor...the one that said they didn't trust him with himself, and they were going to try to pull some touchy-feely crap and take care of him.

He was a damned demon now, he didn't need to be taken care of. Not then, or now, or ever.

"Yeah...we're the only family you've got, so who else would it be? And it was a blood spell, so..." Sam's implication was obvious, and Dean had the answer to his unspoken question of how he'd wound up there despite his best attempts to lay low.

The word 'family' caught his attention, and his supposedly non-existent heart clenched at that. How could Sammy-Samuel Winchester-call him that? He was a demon. He was one of the things they hunted. Something like what had killed their mother, and cost their father his soul, and a whole crap load of other evils to them and to the world. Dean hated himself, how could Sam do any less?

"Family?" Dean snorted and said the word with as much distaste as he could inject into it. He told himself it was because he was a demon and didn't give a damn, didn't feel the same. But that was a lie. He did feel, and it would almost be easier if he didn't. Because the truth was, it killed him to feel like he couldn't be around Sam, like he might hurt the other or taint him. He was something dirty now, and he couldn't drag Sam into this mess, couldn't give him false hope that he could 'save' Dean. There was no coming back from this. Dean wanted Sam to hate him, to stay away, so that he wouldn't be hurt by him. "Maybe you noticed, a**hat, but I'm a demon. I don't have family."

"You may attempt to lie if you wish, Dean. But neither Sam nor I will believe it. I can see your soul, Dean, I can see that you are still in there...much as you would have us believe you are not."

Dean blinked, and his jaw clenched as he was called out on the facade. He forced his lips into a sneer. "You might wanna get your eyes checked, angel, 'cuz the only thing in here ain't Dean Winchester."

"Then who are you?" Sam asked calmly, like it wasn't killing him to see Dean like this, like Dean couldn't look at Sam's too-calm face and know he was aching. He could see it in the kid's eyes.

"I'm a demon. I'm nobody." Dean replied grimly, against the rock that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

"That's not how a demon would answer." Castiel pointed out. "They are unfailingly arrogant."

Well if that's what he wanted... "Okay, I'm the one and only Knight of Hell. I'm the baddest demon on the block, and you're going to let me out of this trap and never summon me again, or I will make the two of you wish I really was dead."

"So you admit you're not dead?" Sam countered, and Dean wanted to slam his head against a wall. Was that all Sam had gotten out of that?

Dean took a few experimental steps forward, but sure enough, he was locked in tight. In the meanwhile, Sam had risen and he and Castiel stepped just out of reach of the devil's trap.

"Look," he snapped, "I'm not...I'm not Dean! Whatever you think this is, whatever you think is in here," he clapped a hand on his chest, "It's not. I'm a demon. There's nothing left to save."

Castiel's expression softened, and Dean couldn't call it pity, but it was close enough and it made him want to throttle the angel. "You always felt that way. You never believed you were worth saving, even when nothing could be further from the truth."

"I'm not Dean!" he protested, and he slammed a palm against the barrier of the devil's trap.

Sam moved then, and covered the few inches of space that remained between him and the very edge of the trap. He stared at Dean openly, no hint of disgust or mistrust, just sadness and a sort of...longing. Dean understood it, Sam wanted Dean back. But Dean was gone. Maybe not entirely but...it wasn't worth Sam wasting his time on. He wanted Sam to move on and have a life, not cling to some hope that Dean was 'fixable'.

"I don't believe that...I can't believe that. I know what I said, but I lied. Dean, we've...we've come too far. You told me once there was nothing you would put in front of me...I've been stupid but, Dean...it's the same for me. There is nothing more important to me than you...you're my big brother...and...I need you, Dean. I just do. I'm sorry I made you think otherwise. I wish I never said. I wish I didn't do a lot of things. I can't change the past, but I can work on it for the future. If you'll come back. Please, Dean."

Sam laid all his cards on the table. Because he was desperate, and he'd been dying to clarify and apologize to Dean, and because Dean regarded their brotherhood like nothing else...Sam had treated it as an annoyance at times, but now it was a lifeline. With that, perhaps he could tether Dean back to his humanity, and back home.

And sure enough, the impassive, mocking expression of the 'Knight of Hell', became Dean. Wide, surprised eyes laced with confusion. That little pained twist to his lips, a slightly scrunched, aching expression. Why had Sam ever hurt him? Why had he ever thought Dean wasn't enough? Why did it take losing Dean for him to remember that Dean meant everything to him? He had taken it for granted, and he was determined not to make the same mistake twice.

"I..." Dean's voice wasn't cold any more, it was Dean, uncertain and longing. "Sammy, I-" he cut off and bit down on his tongue. What was he doing? He couldn't screw this up, he couldn't give in...by Sam's words were a siren's song to the part of Dean that was still alive and kicking beneath the muck of demonhood and the call of the Mark of Cain. The urge to reach out and comfort Sam, to respond to the vocalization of brotherly love he'd been given, was too much. "You don't know what you're asking." he finally whispered. "I can't...I can't be with you. I'm a demon, Sam...I don't want to hurt you."

And Sam's lips curved into a small smile, and Dean realized his words had actually comforted the other. Like validation that he was still Dean, because he was aware that he was a demon and didn't want to hurt Sam because of it. "I don't care what you are...I mean, I care...I want you to be human again, but...can or can't...you're still my big brother no matter what...and I love you, Dean. So much."

And that broke him. Dean didn't even realize he was crying until he felt the wetness of a tear drop down his face and saw Castiel's eyes widen slightly. Sam seemed to expect it though, and he just smiled that Sammy smile at Dean.

"I love you too, Sammy." Dean found himself replying, words drawn from the innermost depths of his soul. The truest he was capable of. Demonization, the Mark of Cain, Heaven, Hell, life, death...nothing could change that fundamental fact. He was Sam's big brother, and he loved him more than anything. They were, as had been described, 'soul mates'. They just couldn't exist without the other.

Sam reached down and picked up the knife he'd discarded, and Dean watched him a little confused until Sam nicked the devil's trap and released him. He rose slowly and watched Dean carefully.

Dean thought at first that maybe Sam didn't trust him after all, that maybe thought Dean had faked it and the thought cut him, but then he realized...no, Sam thought he might run. He wanted to see if Dean was stay.

The temptation to disappear was there, to end this influx of feelings and honesty, the dangerous lure of staying by his brother's side. And Hell, even Castiel made him want to stay.

But instead, he crossed the distance between them and pulled his little brother into a tight hug as he remembered to make the effort and turn his eyes green.

"Dean."

And Dean's 'big brother sense' got tingly and he knew Sam had a little waterworks going on himself. Those big, warm arms wrapped around him tightly and clutched him like a lifeline, and he felt Sam bury his face in Dean's shoulder in much the same way he'd dig into Dean's chest when he was younger. Like it was him and Sammy against the world, and Dean was all he had to hold onto. The familiar, warming feelings were just too much. Dean could feel his resolve to leave and to stay away weakening. His brother needed him, and loved him, and he was what mattered to Dean despite what he said.

"I don't want to hurt you." Dean whispered again, because it needed to be said and he needed Sam to understand that...things were different. He needed him to know what he was getting into.

"You won't." said Sam with a certainty that made Dean believe him even against himself. "As long as you stay. I can't lose you again, Dean."

It was a little sad and ironic that it had taken turning into a demon for Sam to remember what being brothers meant. But Dean couldn't be bitter. He was too grateful that Sam was willing to accept him, too relieved, too...happy to be home. Dean wasn't sure how this would all work out but...he didn't have it in him now to leave, whatever he might think.

Dean pulled away reluctantly to look up at Sam [which was, as always, a bit of a fond annoyance], and he kept his arms on Sam's shoulders while he kept his on Dean's waist. "Are you sure it's what you want, Sammy? 'Cause I...I just..."

Sam smiled and it stole any shred of resistance that Dean had left. "I want my brother. However I can have him."

Dean swore and brought Sam in for another, quick hug before he pulled away and coughed gruffly. "You're such a b****, Sammy. I was stayed away to protect you. And you went and friggin' ruined it."

"Better get used to it, jerk. Now I know how to drag your butt back here any time I want to." Sam teased lightly.

Dean grimaced at the reminder, and frowned at the devil's trap behind him. "If you pull that on me again...nair in your shampoo will be the least of your worries." As he turned his gaze back, he found Castiel staring awkwardly at him [and wasn't that just damned familiar and nostalgic], and he realized he'd been a little neglectful of the angel. He'd come this far, may as well go for the gold.

Dean sighed dramatically, and was surprised at how easily his...[feelings? mannerisms? non-demon self] were coming back to him now. Was it because he'd decided to accept that he was still Dean? Or was it really Sam? 'All you need is love', or some crap like that?

Either way, he opened an arm and crooked his head at Castiel, who seemed to understand and immediately took him up on the offer.

Castiel snaked his arms around Dean and gripped the hunter tightly, and Dean hugged him back in return. "Thanks for not giving up on me, Cas. And not trying to smite me."

Castiel actually chuckled a little, past a sort of choked noise that he supposed was the angelic equivalent of a sniffle. The sap. But then he pulled back slightly to regard Dean with those serious baby blues of his. "I would never give up on you, Dean...or attempt to smite you. Then who would I go to for dating advice?"

Dean stared. And blinked. And stared some more in surprise. And then he snorted and clapped Castiel on the back. "You sure picked a Helluva time to develop a sense of humor, pal. Okay. The demon love guru. I can work with that. Sam sure as Hell couldn't give you any pointers." he shot a smirk at Sam, who rolled his eyes but seemed entirely too happy about the whole thing and wouldn't stop smiling. It made Dean's heart do a funny flip-flop that made him feel like a sap himself.

Castiel pulled him in again suddenly, and he was squashed against the angel who brought their heads together. He thought Castiel was just being the awkward-angel he was, but then he heard him whisper. "I could never hurt you, Dean. Even if a time came when I should. I wouldn't be able to do it." he admitted, and he pulled away to regard a stunned Dean. "Past mistakes aside." he added almost sheepishly, probably in reference to his time as crazy-God-Castiel.

These guys were just too damned much.

Dean pulled away with a sigh and gave Castiel's shoulder a squeeze. "I know, Cas. Thanks. For everything."

Castiel smiled and seemed content to keep up his usual pasttime of staring, but Dean pulled away as he moved back a few paces. "...Look, I got a few things I need to get settled...and then-"

"You're leaving?" Sam's voice was tense, and Dean wondered if he was making the right choice by planning to stay. Sam was willing to bet on a lame horse, and that was a bet that was sure to fail. But he couldn't stop himself now.

"I'll be back." Dean promised, and Sam's expression made it clear he didn't believe that. "I mean it. I still don't really think I should...but...if you, uh...really want me here then...I'll be back. I really do just have some stuff to take care."

"Stuff?" Sam echoed, but he seemed relieved and in the end, added. "Like getting rid of that dorky mustache and hair style...and coat? You like a ripoff Neo." he teased, a reference to the Matrix.

Dean surprised even himself when he huffed indignantly in reply, just as he would have done before. "Okay, first of all, no I don't...and second...I rock this coat."

Sam laughed, and the sound lightened Dean's heart, even Castiel smiled. "You can keep the coat if you really believe that...but trust me. Haircut and shave. Your new best friends."

Dean could tell that Sam was forcing it a little. He probably didn't fully believe Dean would be back [although he would be]. And Sam would probably yank him back before long if he didn't return. And despite his acceptance of Dean, he knew Sam was still probably getting used to things. "Haircut maybe...but really? The beard?"

"The peach fuzz? Don't do it." Sam advised, and he looked to Castiel. "Right, Cas?"

Castiel's brow was furrowed slightly. "What do peaches have to do with Dean's beard?"

And Dean surprised himself again with a short bark of laughter. "Nothing. Sam's just jealous..." Sam snorted, and the mood was light a moment.

But then Sam looked at Dean seriously. "You'll really be back?"

Dean hesitated, but after a moment, he inclined his head and met Sam's gaze with his still-green eyes. "At the risk of you shoving my a** in another trap, yeah, I guess I could come back." Sam smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes and he set a hand on Sam's shoulder and ignored the little part of himself that said he shouldn't dirty Sam. And the part that said he should squeeze the life out of the Winchester hunter. "I'll be back, Sammy." he promised.

Sam pulled him into another hug then, and Dean allowed it and gave him a slight hug back before he pulled away quickly. "Seriously, dude. I'll be back. Enough with the touching."

Castiel, who looked tempted, drew up short and Dean eyed him a moment. "By the way, how are you holding up?"

Castiel seemed surprised by the question, and he shook his head. "I...have the matter in hand."

"What's that mean?"

"I found a way to delay my...burning out. Don't worry."

Dean eyed him a moment before he inclined his head, he'd let the matter lie for now. He took a few steps back and then smirked. "Don't miss me too bad, dorks." And then he flashed out.

...

Sam and Castiel watched after the space he'd occupied a moment, before Sam let his worry bleed into his expression as he addressed Castiel. "You think he'll be back?"

Castiel considered it and then smiled slightly as he inclined his head. "You said that you needed him. I don't think we could keep him away if we tried."

Sam inhaled a little sharply at the implication. But he couldn't deny it, he held sway over Dean's heart and it had taken this whole experience to remind him of the gravity of that. He wouldn't take Dean's feelings lightly, their brotherhood, lightly again. "It wasn't just me."

Castiel seemed grateful for the note. "He did accept my hug." he said, almost thoughtfully.

That brought Sam to another point. "He was...Dean again...but there's still..."

"He is a demon." Castiel said lightly. "He has changed." and he didn't miss the flicker of sadness on Sam's face. "But he is still Dean. And that's what matters."

"Yeah." Sam agreed. "You're right, Cas." he clapped a hand on the angel's shoulder. "Thank you."

Castiel smiled. He'd been doing that more lately [especially in Dean's presence] and it was both odd and comforting. "Any time."

...

Dean flashed into existence somewhere on the outskirts of a town he had been scoping out. He had some actual matters to attend to, but there was a hunt he wanted to finish first. It was ironic, a monster out hunting monsters, but he was a hunter through and through and what else had he been supposed to do? Crowley had tried to rope him into joining him, Dean had given that all the consideration it was due [which was none], and surprisingly Crowley hadn't bugged him about it. He said he was off demon blood, but he still seemed way too sentimental to Dean. Not that he could talk, especially after the big, bleeding heart-to-heart and hug-fest he had just had.

Dean entered the nest of vampires. It was nearly sundown, they were awake now, but it wasn't a problem. The Mark of Cain thrummed it's approval and anticipation of what he was about to do, and Dean let a now-familiar, intoxicating numbness wash over him. He was Dean, and he was a demon, and moreover he was a Knight of Hell. The one who bore the Mark of Cain.

Sam had proven that Dean was still in there, that he still had a working heart that loved Sam and Castiel, and still held some morals and ethics. But at the end of the day, a monster with a heart was still a monster. A killer with morals was still a killer.

And Dean Winchester was still a demon.

His eyes were already black as he smiled, and it was every bit as genuine as the one he'd given Sam and Castiel in a completely different way. This held no warmth or love, or amusement. This was ice and rage and death. He was death.

Dean let the blade fall from his sleeve as the vampires rushed him, and he gave in to the thrill of the kill.

When all was said and done, the vampires were a mass of bodies on the floor and he was splattered in their blood. The First Blade hummed it's own approval, made him itch for more, and he moved across the room only to draw up short as he saw himself in a mirror. Slightly disheveled, covered in blood, and black-eyed. Move over, Freddy Krueger.

Some part of Dean was disgusted and despaired. The part that had stayed away from Sam to protect him, that feared his brother seeing him for what he was and giving up on him. The part that worried about hurting Sam or Cas, or having them think he was the monster he felt that he'd become.

But that human Dean wasn't the dominant one right then. It was the Knight of Hell. He barely noticed the blood, if anything, he was a little disappointed that there wasn't more to shed. And as he examined himself in the mirror and casually wiped a little smeared blood from his face, he reached a decision.

The coat and hair had to go, but he was keeping the beard.

Behind him, the door to the basement opened to reveal a few straggler vampires, and a human chew toy. He'd have to kill the vampires, of course, but the human was half-dead anyway and witnesses weren't really allowable. Guess he'd have to kill her too.

Dean smiled that cruel smile, and went to work.

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Mmmkay. Yeah, humorous went out the window. Schmoop was present but in the end...well, Dean's a demon now. Had to end on a dark note. And it's kind of cool to think about. Dean all dark and evil, but still loving to Sam and Cas. Possessive and protective and yay. XD Here there be fangirl fears. Well, it was a one-shot, but I might start up a story set in the same verse and continue from there because I like this setup. Thoughts? Any one want to see more? By the by, reviews are like verbal hugs for me. Thanks for stopping by! Enjoy! Witchy~