Sam knocked on the door of the cabin buried deep in the wilderness. He had spent weeks researching Cain. It wasn't easy to find his location, but he eventually did. He drove back roads no one had traveled on in years. He eventually had to park the impala and walk through the wooded area. He knew when he left the bunker that morning he would be embarking on some kind of crazy journey, but he also knew this was only just the beginning.

The door opened.

"You were not who I expected to see."

Sam turned and looked around the vast emptiness that surrounded them. "Do you ever expect to see anyone?"

"No." He held on to the door handle. "That's how I like it."

Sam said nothing, just stared at him with tired eyes.

"I suppose you want me to ask you in."

"I'm not going anywhere." Sam shrugged.

"You're much like your brother." Cain didn't miss flinch on Sam's face as he made the statement. He stepped back and walked inside. Sam followed, shutting the door behind him.

"…and I assume this is about him."

Sam cleared his throat. "Yeah, it is."

They walked into the living room and Cain gestured toward the couch. Sam took a seat as Cain sat across from him.

"I need," Sam started, clearing his throat. "I need some answers. I need to know some things about the mark and..." Sam looked him in the eye, "you."

"I'm not so sure I can give you the information you're seeking."

"Please, I just…I don't know what else to do."

"Did he find the blade?"

Sam squinted his eyes. "You really are out of the loop out here, aren't you?"

"I do not seek out information. I live my life as normally as possible without worrying about the outside world and all its devastation. I stay blissfully ignorant."

"Even after giving Dean the mark?"

"Especially after giving Dean the mark."

Sam shook his head and looked down at his hands. He swallowed looked back at Cain.

"Yes, we found the blade."

"Really."

Sam could tell his was faking disinterest.

"I'm going to make a long story short here."

"Please do."

"Dean…he…he was stabbed by an angel. He died in my arms."

Cain took a deep breath in and let it out. "Only he didn't really die, did he? Not really."

Surprised, Sam looked at him. "No, he didn't. Did you know this would happen?"

"Of course I did. It happened to me, as you know."

"But you didn't tell him?"

"I did not share that bit of information, no. And neither did your friend, Crowley obviously."

"Crowley is not my friend."

"Let's get back to making a long story short here, Sam."

"So you know what he is now?"

"A demon."

"Yes. But not just any demon, right? I mean, his situation is unique. He is a man who became a demon as opposed to a person possessed by a demon. Like you."

"Correct."

"So," Sam struggled to find the right words. "Are you still…still you? Do still have the same thoughts and feelings you had as a human?"

"I am very old, Sam. My situation is not and was not the same as Dean's."

"But there's more to it, right? You remember your humanity."

"I'm sure you've done your research. You know what I was before I became this," Cain gestured with his hands.

"I have to believe he's still in there somewhere."

"I'm sure you do."

"Last year I completed a series of trials to try to close the gates of Hell. The last one was curing a demon. I almost did it…it would have worked."

"But?"

"But I didn't finish it. It would have killed me. Dean made me stop. That's actually the very beginning of what lead to all of this. Do you know anything about that ritual?"

"Curing a demon? I've heard of it."

"Do you think it would work with Dean?"

"I can't say for sure. It might. Or it might kill one or both of you."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

"I'm not surprised to hear you say that." Cain sighed. "You would likely need to do it with only your blood and it would take a lot. More than what it would take for a normal demon."

"Because we're blood." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes. As his brother you're the only one who could do this ritual. If it were to work, which I'm not saying it will."

Cain stood up, as if to indicate this was the end of the conversation. Sam stood as well.

"Thank you." Sam held out his hand. Cain hesitated for a few seconds, but then grasped it. Sam nodded and moved toward the door.

"You should be prepared, however, for this to not work. I did not intend for this to happen to your brother when I passed on the mark. This may be something he may never come back from."

Sam swallowed, looking straight ahead.

"I know."

He walked out the door.


Sam pulled the impala up to the bunker. He walked inside and made his way down the stairs. All he wanted to do was fall down in his bed and get some sleep, but he had work to do.

Switching on the lights, he walked into the main room, leaning down on the table to boot up his lap top.

"Hiya, Sammy. What have you been up to?"

Sam stood completely still and closed his eyes.

"What? Not happy to hear my voice? See your big brother?" Dean smiled.

Sam turned and looked at him.

"Ah, there he is." Dean strode over, closer to Sam. All very casual.

"So, you've been out. What have you been doing?"

"Nothing."

Dean barked out a laugh. "You've always been a terrible liar." He placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, enjoying the the shiver he felt. "It's okay. I get it." Dean moved back a couple steps and walked over to pour himself a drink. "But you should know, Sammy. I know what you're doing." He turned and held up his glass. "I know you had a conversation with Cain today. I mean, it's smart. Going straight to the source for answers. Good job with that. I'm sure it wasn't easy to find him. Good on you, little brother. Did he give you any answers? Did you walk out of that house with a new sense of hope? Did you guys sit and drink tea and braid each other's hair?"

Sam said nothing.

"It doesn't matter. Nothing will work. And that's fine with me. This new life? It's awesome and it's even better without you dragging me down every. single. day."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "My god. You really are a demon. You inherited the monologuing."

Dean smiled and set his glass down. "That's funny, Sammy. It is. You could always be funny when you wanted to be. Too bad this time it's all a facade. You're completely broken right now which in itself is hilarious considering the speeches you gave me not too long ago."

"I told you I lied."

"Yeah and maybe the old Dean believed you. But that Dean is gone now, sorry."

"Yet here you are in the bunker talking to me."

"You think that means something?" Dean smirked.

"I think you could be anywhere, but you're still pulled toward me. If you're not concerned about me actually saving you then you have no reason to care."

"I'm evil now. I don't need a reason." Dean stepped up to Sam and started to circle him. "But you're right. I could be anywhere and I am choosing to stop in and see you because it is just the best feeling to watch you suffer. Watch you try to save me and fail."

"I'm going to fix you."

Dean appeared quickly in Sam's face, eyes black. "No, you're not. But you're going to try, I know you are. It will be a fun game. But there is no fixing me because I'm not broken. All that stuff I felt for you; love, loyalty, protectiveness - it's all gone, brother. And it feels so good to not feel, you have no idea." Sam stood his ground, looking into his eyes. Dean's voice got softer. "I'm going to wreak havoc on this earth. Death, destruction. I'm going to keep you alive long enough to see it. Then I'm going to quite literally rip your heart out." He smiled. "It will be poetic, don't you think?"

Sam looked at him and then rolled his eyes. "Seriously with this monologuing. Do demons have to take a beginners course in it or something?"

Dean laughed again. Sam was beginning to hate that laugh and his smile. "Nice brave act. I can almost believe you're not completely fucking losing it."

Sam felt himself thrown buy an invisible force until his back hit the wall where he remained pinned. He shut his eyes and grimaced as pain shot through his body on impact.

"I still know you better than anyone and that should scare you," Dean said as he walked over to Sam.

"Right back at you," Sam spit. "You're still Dean."

"I know you need to keep telling yourself that." Dean's eyes went back to his normal green. "But…" He reached down and started lifting Sam's shirts up, exposing his torso. Sam furrowed his brow.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you a present." Sam watched as Dean pulled out a knife, not the blade, but a regular kitchen knife. Sam started to struggle as best he could, but the force pinning him to the wall didn't allow for much movement.

"Dean, stop."

"Shhh, Sammy. It'll be okay." Sam heard those words out of Dean's mouth probably about a million times in his life. This was the first time it did not bring any comfort.

Sam cried out as the knife broke his flesh just below his rib cage.

"Dean! No."

"I said shut. up." Dean placed his other hand on Sam's throat, cutting off his air supply. Sam gasped and couldn't stop the tears as his brother continued to cut into him.

"That's better." Dean focused on his work and Sam wondered when it would end.

He finally felt the pressure in his throat release and Dean stepped back, bloody knife in hand as Sam gasped for air.

"That should leave a mark." Dean winked at him. "Something to remember me by, when you think there is still a shred of humanity left in here." He put the knife back in his jacket. "Well, this has been fun. Time to head out, things to do, you know." He leaned in close to Sam's ear, "I'll be seeing you, Sammy." He disappeared.

The hold lifted and Sam fell to the floor. His hand immediately going to his stomach where blood was now seeping through his shirt. The wound was deep, but he knew it wasn't life threatening.

He put his head down and sobbed.


"Sam."

Sam looked up a the angel in front of him with bloodshot eyes. Castiel's brow furrowed when he realized just what state Sam was in and rushed over to him, bending down.

"Sam, you're hurt."

"Thanks for the update, you really have great timing." Sam made a move to stand, Castiel grabbed ahold of his arm to help him to his feet.

"Is that sarcasm?"

Sam let out a small laugh, "yes, Cas."

Sam got to his feet and put his hand on his stomach, hissing as the skin pulled on it now that he was standing.

"What happened?"

"Dean happened."

Castiel's face got very serious, he put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Dean was here? He did this?"

"Yes and yes."

"I can't believe…"

Sam interrupted him, "you can't believe he would do this? Really?"

Castiel took a moment before answering. "I suppose I'm still getting used to this whole…thing."

"You and me both." Sam started to walk out of the room.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom, I need a mirror."

"I can assure you, Sam. You do not look good." Castiel followed behind him.

"Thanks for that." Sam flicked the light on as he walked into the bathroom. "I need to see what he did."

Both of them stood in front of the mirror next to the sink. Sam gingerly pulled his shirt away from the wound and lifted it. They both remained silent as they looked at the design now carved into his flesh, just under his rib cage.

"Is that…" Cas started.

"The mark of Cain."

"What did he use?"

"Kitchen knife."

Castiel shook his head. "Why would he do that?"

"A reminder."

Castiel reached down, ready to heal it. Sam pushed his hand away.

"No, Cas. Don't waste your juice on this."

"But…"

"No. Don't. It will heal."

"It will scar."

"Just like Dean wanted. He wants me to have it as a reminder of what he is now. I'll use it as motivation." Sam dropped his shirt.

"You spoke with Cain?"

"I did. He thinks the ritual might work."

"Might."

"That's all I needed to hear."

"This won't be easy. Just pinning him down will be a struggle."

"But we'll do it."

Sam turned and left the room, now more determined than ever.