Chapter Text
Sam was still sitting on a chair with his hand wrapped around a glass, a bottle nearly empty beside him, when he heard a voice,
“Sam? Sammy. You here?”
Sam’s heart shook. He jumped up from his chair, dropping his glass. It shattered on the floor.
“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Dean said.
Dean. It was Dean. No longer bloody from last night, in a change of clothes. Seemingly healed. Alive.
“You’re, you’re not dead.”
“Disappointed?”
“No.” Sam crushed Dean in a hug. “No, Dean.”
Dean patted him lightly on the back. “That’s, uh, good then.” Dean backed away and then twitched a little, squeezing his eyes shut and looking down. “Whoa.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just dizzy.” Dean let out a breath. “Wait-I was dead.”
Sam nodded.
“Now, I’m not.”
“I know.”
“What did you do?” Dean snapped.
“Nothing. I tried to but Crowley wouldn’t deal.”
“Don’t,” Dean said sharply. “You do not sell your soul for me, Sam. Ever. Is that clear?”
“You said.”
“You look for a way to get me back. You don’t sell your soul. No more demon deals.” Dean hopped up on the edge of the table. He had a half smile on his face and then it fell. “ Cas .”
“Dean.”
“Have you heard from him?”
Sam shook his head. “I’m sure he’s fine.” Sam wasn’t so sure, but he also had no idea what he could do about it.
“I didn’t kill Metatron. He could have killed Cas by now.” Dean put his hands on his head. “I took a damn shower. Why didn’t I think? I wasn’t thinking. What’s wrong-” He jumped up from the table and started to pace. “We have to go.”
“Go where?”
“Heaven. Find Cas, and then Metatron and kill the giant bag of dicks.”
“You tried to kill Metatron once already. He killed you. It was like ten hours ago in case you forgot.”
Dean was breathing heavily now. His sharp, erratic movements unsettled Sam as he paced the floor. Must be more effects of the Mark. “If he so much as laid a finger on Cas, I will tear him apart piece by piece, and I will slaughter the rest of the angels along with him.”
“Dean!” Sam barked.
Dean stopped, tilted his head toward Sam. “We’re leaving.”
“To do what? Seriously, do you have a plan?”
“Metatron said Cas is in heaven’s prison. I am going to go break him out. You can come with me or you can stay here and drink. Up to you.”
The bunker door opened. Only one other person could do that. Sam and Dean stopped arguing and turned to face the door.
“Sam! I came as soon as I could. I’m sorry.”
Cas made his way down the steps, keeping his head tilted down toward his feet.
“Cas,” Dean breathed.
Cas looked over, stopped dead in his tracks. “Dean?” his voice broke.
Sam saw Dean’s body shudder as Cas looked at him. Cas’s face grew stern. Dean looked over at Sam. His eyes. No. No. No. His eyes were black. Of course Dean being alive was too good to be true.
“Get out of my brother!”
Sam pulled out his demon knife. Dean’s eyes widened, returning to their normal appearance. The knife flew out of Sam’s hands and clattered on the ground.
“What’s wrong with you?” Dean shouted. “What’s going on?”
Sam started reciting the exorcism.
“Have you lost your mind? Ow. What is that?”
But as Sam kept talking, nothing seemed to be happening. Black smoke wasn’t coming out of his brother’s mouth. The demon wasn’t leaving, wasn’t letting Dean rest in peace.
“Stop!” Cas shouted. “Stop, Sam. It’s him. It’s him.”
Sam gasped, but kept the words in. He turned toward Cas. “What do you mean?”
“Dean’s soul. I recognize it.”
“No because then you’re saying…”
Cas shut his eyes. “I wish I weren’t.”
“Would you guys like to let me in on what’s going on?”
Cas turned toward Dean. “You’re a demon, Dean.”
Dean shook his head. “No, no. Of course I’m not.”
“The Mark,” Cas said. “It makes sense that he’d be. Cain was.”
“I’m fine,” Dean replied, his voice shaky. “I’m not. I just feel a little off is all, but I’m good. I’m not. I can’t be. I’m not!”
Sam grabbed the salt shaker off the table and tossed some toward Dean. The grains hit him in the face. It sizzled, he growled and black eyes flickered where Dean’s green ones should be.
Dean looked toward Sam and then at Cas. “Holy - you have to lock me up. Now. Like we did Crowley.”
“No, Dean,” Cas replied.
“Sam, you know we have to.”
Sam nodded then looked toward Cas. “Just until we figure out what’s going on and how to fix it. How to make him human again.”
. . .
Cas was still in shock. Last night had been the worst of his life. Worse than when he lost his grace, when he couldn’t hear Dean anymore, because he knew Dean was out there living and breathing. That made whatever pain he had to go through worth it, but when Metatron said he killed Dean, Cas had never felt pain like that. Pain that seemed to go on a million years in both directions like an endless loop that had always existed.
He hadn’t even thought about this. He should’ve thought about it. About what the Mark would do to Dean. It was okay now. He told himself. They knew how to cure a demon. Everything was going to be fine.
When they arrived in the room where they’d kept Crowley chained, Dean sat down in the chair and put his hands out to be cuffed. Shaking, Cas picked up the cuffs and locked them around Dean’s wrists as Sam chained Dean to the chair.
Cas’s fingers brushed across Dean’s wrists, making Cas’s heart leap in his chest. He turned and tried to shake the feeling away.
“There is one problem,” Dean said.
“What?” Cas asked.
“The curing thing.”
Sam stood up from where he’d been kneeling beside Dean. “What do you mean?”
“After Gadreel, when you guys locked me up. I started puking up blood.”
Cas tensed. “What?”
“I summoned Crowley. He said it was an effect of the Mark. That I had to kill or the Mark would kill me. A human body isn’t strong enough to endure it. A demon body on the other hand.”
Sam sighed. “You’re saying if we cure you then you die.
“And then I’m guessing I’ll become a demon again unless we know how to get rid of the Mark.”
“So we get rid of the Mark,” Sam said.
Cas shook his head. “The only way I know of to do that is to give the Mark to someone else.”
“Which if I do that, I doom someone else’s soul to hell,” Dean finished Cas’s thought.
“There has to be another way,” Sam said.
“Maybe, but for now we don’t know what it is and until we do, we can’t risk it.”
“So I just stay here indefinitely? Someone better bring me a TV or some pornos.” Dean looks down at his cuffed hands. “Forget the pornos.”
“ Dean ,” Cas snapped.
“Sorry.”
Sam furrowed his brow, but shrugged and moved on like he always seemed to. “Do you feel any urges?”
Dean’s eyes briefly flickered to Cas. “What? No. What kind of...urges?”
“Not those kind of-killing urges, Dean. Murderous rampage urges.”
Dean’s eyes shifted back and forth. “Not especially.”
“And he probably won’t. I mean, he probably won’t be out of control. Most of the torturing instincts of a demon come from the years and years of torment in hell. But he will be going through some changes, though I’m not entirely sure-”
“Changes? I’m a demon. I’m not getting my period. Wait,” Dean’s voice cracked. “I’m not gonna get my demon period am I?”
“No, Dean.”
“This is a terrible idea, but maybe he needs someone to help him, like, transition.”
Dean groaned and leaned his head back. “How is this happening to me?”
“What are you suggesting?” Cas asked.
“I’m not a big fan of his, but he seems to have taken a weird liking to Dean and I don’t know. He could help.”
“We’re not calling Crowley.”
“Ooo, Crowley.” Dean sat up straighter, looking surprised. He moved his tongue in his mouth like he’d tasted something bitter.
“That might happen sometimes. Technically, Crowley is Dean’s king now.”
Dean’s mouth went slack. “Gross.”
“It will be harder for him to dislike Crowley.”
“Crowley,” Dean said happily then his voice changed and he growled, “Dammit.”
“This is gonna be delightful.” Sam rubbed his hands over his face. “I gotta go summon him. He’s the only one who might be able to help.”
Cas hated the idea, but he nodded in agreement. “Okay. I’ll stay with Dean.”
A few moments after Sam left the room, Dean looked at Cas. “Your grace.”
“What about it?”
“It’s weak. I can feel it.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“What happened?”
Cas let out a breath and then told Dean everything that had happened in heaven about Gadreel, Hannah, the radio, Metatron being in heaven’s jail. The broken tablet.
“You broke the tablet? Cas, that could replenished your grace, maybe reopened heaven.”
“I had to save you.”
“That turned out well.”
Cas gritted his teeth and glared at Dean. He couldn’t stand there and bear disappointment from Dean, even though he was right. Maybe because he was right. Cas didn’t save Dean.
“I’ll fix this, Dean. I will figure it out. The Mark reversing it, making you human again. All of it.”
“Cas.”
“I will. I swear it.” He’d never meant anything as much as he meant those words.
“My my how the tables have turned,” Crowley said behind him. Cas turned and glared at him. “Dean Winchester, a demon. I’m going to need a moment to bask in this.”
“Crowley,” Sam growled.
“Fine, fine. What do you want?”
“Hi, Crowley,” said Dean eagerly. He shut his mouth and his jaw stiffened.
Crowley winked. “Hey, Dean.”
“So, what’s gonna happen to him?”
“He’ll be fine.”
“Your fine or my fine?” Sam asked.
Crowley narrowed his eyes. “Somewhere in between.”
“Is there a way to keep him from murdering people?” Cas asked.
“He’s still got the Mark so he’s still going to want to kill things.”
“Things?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, things. They don’t have to be human.” Crowley smirked.
“What are you talking about?” Dean asked, leaning as forward in his chair as his restraints would allow.
Cas put a hand on his head, starting to feel dizzy and tired from the extra grace he’d used today.
“Have you three geniuses stopped consider how this could be a good thing?” Crowley folded his arms.
“How can my brother being a demon be a good thing?”
“Because Dean is no ordinary demon. He’s a Knight of Hell and more than that he possesses the mark of Cain. He can use telekenesis.”
“That must be how the knife came out of your hand,” Dean said to Sam who nodded.
“He’s impervious to that knife.”
“He can’t possess anyone. The mark keeps him locked in his body, but you three probably see that as good thing. And it also means he can’t be exorcised, but best of all…” Crowley grinned.
“Best of all, what?” Cas stepped closer to Crowley, wanting to feel intimidating, but knowing Crowley could tell he was weak.
“He can smite demons.”
“Smite them?” Sam blinked. “Like the way Cas does?”
Crowley nodded. “Silver lining. But it will take work learning to control all his new powers and you know not accidentally blow up everything.”
“That’s kind of why we asked you here,” Sam said.
“Really now?”
“But if you act like a smarmy dick about it.”
Crowley put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. Sam shrugged it off. “I’d love nothing more than to help one of my newest members learn to use his demon mojo, but my time is very valuable, Moose.”
“What do you want?” Cas snapped with enough energy he had to lean back and catch himself on the table. This stupid stolen grace.
“Nothing from you, Angel Boy. From him.” He nodded toward Sam.
“You want my blood.”
“I think it’s a fair trade.”
Sam grimaced. “Fine.”
“And I’ll need to be nearby much of the time.”
“You’re not staying here,” Dean chimed in.
“You need me here, Dean. Trust me.”
Dean glowered but didn’t refute him.
Cas wanted to say something, but the room had started to spin. He pressed the insides of his wrists to his temple.
“Your grace, man. It’s really not in good shape,” Dean said. “You gotta get back to heaven. Fix yourself.”
Cas’s muscles tightened. He couldn’t stomach the sound of Dean trying to send him away again. Even this demon-version of Dean.
“I’m not leaving you here with him.” Cas glanced toward Crowley. “I’m not leaving you at all.”
Sam laid a hand on Cas’s back. “We all want you here.”
“I don’t,” Crowley interrupted.
“Shut up,” Dean said, but when Crowley looked at him he flinched. Dean’s attention returned to Cas. “Go sort this grace thing out and then come home.”
Home. This was home, wasn’t it? Something about that sound, that word, coming from Dean to Cas, settled him.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He held his gaze with Dean’s for a moment. He could see the swirling blackness of his soul, but at the same time, he could still feel the shiny, beautiful part that was Dean.
Everything would be fine. He would make it fine.
With that, he turned and left the bunker.
. . .
That night, Dean laid on the left side of his bed. He wasn’t sleeping because he didn’t have to sleep anymore, but he wanted the familiarity of the bed, so he didn’t have to think about what he was, how different he was.
He was doing his best to hide it from Sam and Cas, but there was an energy pulsing through him he’d never felt before, and a desire for the blade, a desire for a lot of things he’d pushed as far into the recesses of his mind as he could. More and more he was questioning why he did that, why would he ever deny himself a pleasure?
Dean shook his head. That was the demon in him talking, the selfish, twisted thing he was becoming, and he couldn’t let it win.
Then, like a knocking in his brain, he heard a voice. For a moment, Dean wondered if this was what it was like when Cas heard prayers, but he quickly realized this wasn’t a prayer.
Come here.
Dean knew the voice immediately. It was Crowley. It was his king. He rose from the bed.
Now, Dean.
Crowley had walked into his room and shut the door behind him.
A part of Dean wanted to say ‘no’, but most of him was just screaming to do as he was told, to obey. Dean listened to the second part. It pulled on him from his veins.
That’s it.
Dean stopped right in front of Crowley.
Crowley smirked, looking up at Dean. “Show me your eyes,” he said aloud.
Dean did as he was told and let the demon blackness in his eyes how. He didn’t even know he could control it.
Crowley’s hand went to Dean’s head, right above his ear. “Good boy,” he whispered. “Good boy.”