It hurt him to breathe, hell it even hurt to think. He had no idea what sort of poison was rushing through his veins, and to be honest he didn't really care. The only thing that mattered was that it was poison and it was doing what he had been too weak to do himself, it was killing him. Setting aside the agony that radiated throughout his entire body, and the fact that he would never know whether his bullet had hit its intended target before he died, this was what he wanted. For it all to be over, for the pain to finally stop. He could be at peace now, no more fighting, no more hurting. He wouldn't be alone anymore, he hoped. He'd see his mother again, and, he prayed his brother.

His mind reluctantly flashed back to the memory of earlier that same day. He and Sam had been somewhere in southern New York, though he could not for the life of him remember exactly where. Bobby had told them of multiple omens that had been popping up over the past few days. Along with a pretty lengthy list of missing persons and murders, Sam and Dean were on their way in a heartbeat.

They spent a good chunk of their first day trying to follow the blood trail with little luck. Although there was more than enough carnage and evidence in their path, they could not for the life of them trace it to the perpetrator nor could they find any pattern or reason behind the deaths. After searching and hunting since dawn, they finally decided to call it a day and return to the motel around 5 or 6.

"This doesn't make a lick of sense." Dean grumbled, throwing his duffle violently onto the bed as he entered the room.

Sam let the door slam behind him and plopped down into the nearest seat, letting his head rest in his arms not saying a word.

Dean didn't know what to do with himself. He was tired, hungry and frustrated which was a pretty lethal combination for him. He needed to kill something, but there was nothing to kill and he was pissed. He took to pacing around the room, not knowing what else to do.

After about 5 minutes of this he looked to his little brother who still had his head resting on the table, he hadn't said a word since they got back.

"You good, Sammy?" He asked.

Sam lifted his head and looked at his brother. His face looked worn and tired but he nodded. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"You sure? You don't look so hot." Dean said growing more concerned. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that Sam looked slightly ill. There was no color in his face and his expression seemed unnatural. Almost pained? Dean thought to himself, whatever it was, he didn't like it.

Noticing the way Dean was looking at him he tried a little harder to compose himself. Sitting up a little straighter and making more of an effort to have a normal expression on his face his, he replied, "I'm fine Dean. Are you alright?"

Dean was taken aback by his question. "I'm fine."

Sam looked at him disbelievingly. "You've been itching around like a crazy person, eying your gun."

"So?" Dean answered defensively. "Maybe I'm just a little frustrated is all. We've been dragging around all day trying to sort through the mountains of clues and bodies and we still don't have a freaking clue what we're looking for."

"Just be patient. You'll figure it out sooner than you think." Sam said, a little too passively for Dean's liking.

"Oh will I now? Because we've been so progressive all day." He snapped.

Sam gave his brother a small smile that made Dean's stomach turn uncomfortably. "Just relax. You never know, this thing may even end up coming to you."

They stared at each other for a long time, Sam still smiling eerily and looking slightly amused with Dean's frustration and Dean staring with a mix of confusion and alarm at his increasingly creepy brother. But before he could ask any of the many questions piling up in his mind, there was a small whooshing sound from behind him that caught his attention.

"Cas? What are you doing here?" Dean asked, extremely confused by his presence. Sam had risen slowly from the table as Castiel spoke quickly.

"Something wrong." He sputtered out, he was breathing quickly and Dean noticed that his face looked mildly beaten and scared.

"Are you alright? What the hell happened to you?" Dean asked approaching Castiel with concern.

"Things aren't as they seem." He said. Dean stared at him. What did that mean? Then there was a slight flicker, almost as though Cas had gone out of focus for a spit second, and before he even knew what happened, Sam had rushed forward and attacked Castiel. Dean caught a glimpse of silver as Sam smashed Castiel into the opposite wall. Before he could react, Sam took the archangel blade and stabbed it directly into Castiel's heart. There was a blast of white light as Castiel fell to the floor. Dean stared in horror at the crumpled and bloody body on the floor, his blue eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. His eyes followed the black ashes of wings across the floor and up the wall until his eyes met his brother who stood with his back to him, the blade dripping blood onto the floor.

Words failed him for what seemed to be hours.

"Sam," he said once he regained his speech, though he could not stop his voice from shaking slightly. "Sammy, what did you do?"

He was making small sounds that Dean had attributed to panting, but he soon realized that he was laughing.

"Sammy's not home right now, can I take a message?" His brothers' voice said as he slowly turned around. Dean's heart sank when he locked eyes with him and saw that Sam's hazel eyes were black.

"No. No, that's not possible." Dean muttered, his entire body had gone cold. He didn't understand. That was why they had gotten the tattoos, so that this couldn't happen.

"Why?" Demon Sam asked. "Because of this?" Almost as though he had read his mind, he pulled down the color of Sam's shirt and revealed a burnt bloody piece of flesh where Sam's tattoo should have been. "I tell ya, it's amazing what a little fire and a switchblade can do."

"You son of a bitch." Dean muttered as he threw himself at "Sam". But with one flick of the wrist Dean instead found himself pinned to the opposite wall, his head started to bleed from the impact. He tried to keep his composure as the demon approached him, but inside his head he was beyond panicking. His one hope was to keep it talking long enough for him to think of some sort of plan.

"Let him go." Dean commanded.

"No." It said simply.

He hadn't expected such a quick answer, demons were usually much more cocky…this didn't make any sense. But he had to keep talking; he would have no chance of saving Sam if he was dead.

"I was with him all day, how long have you been in him?"

"It doesn't take long." It said, not moving a muscle. "You separate for maybe 5 minutes, we ambush Sam, carve out the tattoo and Bam, next thing you know we're right under your nose and you have no idea."

Then it did something that Dean had not expected. It shut his eyes for a long time and stood very still. When it finally lifted its head, Dean was looking into the face of his brother.

"Sammy? Sammy is that you?"

Sam's face was full of terror. "Dean, Dean I can't move." He said quickly. Dean tried to move away from the wall but was still stuck.

"The hell?" he muttered, struggling to get to his brother.

"Dean!" Sam's shout made Dean stop moving. He watched his brother in fear as his arms slowly lifted the blade to his chest. Sam gave Dean a pleading look.

"Dean I can't stop it!" Sam cried.

"No, no, no." Dean repeated over and over as he fought furiously against the invisible force holding him there.

Sam's arms were not completely extended, the tip of the blade aimed at his heart. He looked at his brother in fear and said, "Help me." just before he plunged the blade into his chest.

Sam's expression of agony and shock slowly slipped into a wide smile as the demon re took control over the rest of his body.

"NO!" Dean screamed in anguish. The demon gave him a small wink and then burst from Sam in a mass of black smoke, leaving Sam's body on the floor.

Once the mass had cleared the room, Dean was able to pull away from the wall and instantly fell to his knees beside his brother. Pulling him into his arms, he placed one hand on the gushing wound.

"No, no, Sammy. Come on Sammy open your eyes!" He begged, shaking him brother. But Sam's head just lolled limply from side to side.

"Sammy, come on Sammy…" Dean choked out. He felt like every part of his insides were screaming. He cradled Sam to his chest and looked helplessly at Castiel.

"Cas, Cas. Help me. Please. Help me."

In an instant he was alone.

He had lost his brother before, a few times actually, but this was the first time he had realized just how helpless he was in the situation. Not only had he lost his brother, but he lost Castiel too, who maybe the only person he had truly trusted. He was also who Dean would have turned to help him, but no help was coming now. Almost within an instant of this thought, his overwhelming hopelessness and grief was washed away and replaced by pure and undiluted rage.

He placed his brothers' body back onto the floor and rose to his feet. Wiping the few tears that had leaked from his eyes from his face, he peered out the window to see if anyone had heard the commotion. But there was not a soul in site. He shut the curtains and made sure the door was bolted shut.

His mind had drifted towards the thought of killing himself while he rummaged through his bag for supplies he would need for a summoning ritual.

"Not until it's over." A voice in his head told him. He agreed with it and wiped the thought from his mind. He began moving all of the supplies over to the table when he glanced at Castiel out of the corner of his eye, still blankly gazing, mouth agape into nothingness. Once he had dropped what was in his arms on the table, he made his way over to him. Looking him directly in the eyes, he placed two fingers on his lids and gently closed them.

Without a word he returned to his ritual.

Within ten minutes, Dean had successfully trapped a demon inside the motel room. Using any form of torture he could think of he forced as much information out of him about the demon that had killed Sam and Cas as he could.

Finally he got a name, although he could not recall what it was, not that it really mattered anymore.

He killed the demon and used the name it had given him to perform a more specific ritual to call it to him, and it worked.

The demon smiled at him from inside the devils trap. "Miss me already?"

Dean didn't answer, he couldn't help but think that he had seen this demon before, or its vessel rather. He couldn't pin point who it was and he forced himself not to care. He pulled the cult from his jacket, cocked it and aimed it at his head.

"Why?" was all he said. That's all he really wanted to know before he killed him. He needed that much from him.

The demon shrugged, and even though his mouth did not move Dean could still hear his voice.

"You could be the greatest."

"What?" Dean asked. There was another flicker like he had seen when Castiel had arrived.

The demon looked confused. "What?"

Dean stared at him for a long time. "Who are you?" He could feel the familiarity creeping in the back of his mind, but he could not zone in on a name or where he had seen him.

"This is quite some ritual you pulled together here sonny." The demon said, looking around at the marking and whatnot with a sincere look of impression on his face. "I can see that for you to reach your highest potential, all one has to do is make you helpless and then make you angry."

Dean didn't understand, why was it saying all of this? This was not the MO of a demon. They didn't sit there and admire your handy work, not seriously anyway. He could not shake the feeling that the demon was trying to keep them on the subject of the ritual. He felt like it was almost trying to keep him distracted from the fact that he had recognized him. The feeling was strong, and it felt very personal.

Almost like family… Dean thought and like he was hit by a car the realization hit him.

"It's you?" He asked. The demon looked confused and shocked.

Once again there was a flicker. The demon turned his head to the side, as though he was looking at someone but once again his mouth did not move but his voice could be heard.

"You were right, there's no breaking him. Just end it."

In a flash, the demon pulled something from his pocket and Dean fired the colt. He didn't know if he had hit him for he had felt a stabbing pain in the back of his neck and collapsed to the ground, the poison started to act almost immediately.

As he was writhing on the floor in pain, he could hear footsteps approaching him and he looked up to see that Samuel was standing over him uninjured. He had missed.

"You could have been great, Dean. The best hunter out there. The lives you could have saved…but you wouldn't give in to the rage. You never fully give in."

Dean tried to choke out words but, stopped as he saw the other Campbells slowly appear from the walls of the motel room, as though they had vaporized from the other side. The room started to melt away. He tilted his head to where Sam's body should have been but saw nothing but empty space. He shifted his gaze to where Castiel was supposed to be. Instead of a corpse he saw Castiel strung from the ceiling by his arms, beaten and surrounded by a ring of holy fire. He was fighting wildly and Dean could see the chains beginning to bend.

When the room had completely disappeared he recognized it to be a room in the Campbells hideout. He watched them all circle him, but was confused to see that their eyes were still black.

"Samuel?" He heard his brother call from another room.

"Shit." Samuel said. He blinked and his eyes returned to their original color. "Keep an eye on them while I keep him busy."

Samuel left the room and met Sam when he was inches from the door.

"Sam." He said with almost a fatherly tone. "Any luck?"

Sam shook his head sadly. "None. I still think something is up. Dean and Cas wouldn't just take off like that. Are you sure that nothing could have taken them?" He asked.

Samuel looked at him as though he wished he could have helped more. "I'm sorry Sam, but maybe you should start thinking that maybe they left because they wanted to leave. You should just stay here with us. With family."

Sam took a deep breath and stopped, sniffing the air curiously. "Is something burning?"

"Vamp broke in. We're torching it in the back, just to be safe." He put his hand on Sam's shoulder in comfort. But before he could say anything there was a deafening crash from the back room and shouts ensued. Both Sam and Samuel turned to the door.

Behind it, Castiel had successfully broken from his chains and brought down a good portion of the ceiling with him. The debris took care of the holy fire, freeing him. One of the Campbells had lunged after him but Castiel caught her by the head and snapped her neck so forcefully that her head had turned 180 degrees on her shoulders. The other, being held down by the ceiling was simple enough to kill. He stole the demon knife from his belt and ran it through them, killing the demons inside them. He rushed over to Dean as Sam had fought his way through the door. As soon as he saw his brother lying motionless on the floor, he turned to Samuel.

"What the hell is going on?" He demanded.

As he searched for words, Castiel had knelt beside Dean and put his hand to his face.

"Sammy, you had to realize that something was off when we showed up. It wasn't us, not really anyway. We were dead, all of us. The only reason we started ticking again was because we had demons inside. But we learned how to fight them Sam, control them. The things we learned, how they use rage to empower themselves. And if we could master that and pass it along to full humans, to hunters, think of what we could do!"

"So you use Dean, your grandson, as a guinea pig?" Sam was growing furious.

"We had to." Samuel said simply. "You already had a little demon in you so you wouldn't have worked. It had to be done, for the greater good. Your brother could have been the greatest hunter there was, saved thousands of lives. But he fought it too much, and we couldn't just let him go. Can you understand that? The greater good?"

Sam was shaking with fury, "I'm going to tear your heart out." He spat.

Samuel gave him a sad smile as he inched his hand towards the dagger on his belt. "I was afraid it would come to this." He pulled it quickly, but had it knocked from his hands as Dean threw himself passed Sam and into Samuel, knocking both of them to the ground. Dean crushed his hands into his face as hard as he could until he was barely recognizable under the mass amounts of blood.

"You sick son of a bitch." He growled. "You're no better than the filthy things inside you." He pulled Samuel to his feet and threw the across the room.

"Dean, please." He pleaded. "You can't just kill your own family, it's inhuman."

Castiel approached Dean and handed him the demon knife. Dean took it and stabbing it into Samuel's gut. "No, you're the one that's inhuman." He twisted the knife and pulled it upward,

"And you're not my family."

Dean held his there until he stopped moving and then pulled the blood soaked knife from him, letting him crumple to the floor.

He turned to Castiel and Sam, who looked accomplished and shocked, respectively.

"Dean," Sam started to say. "Dean I had no idea, I'm so…" But Dean had embraced him before he finished. Castiel stood next to them, looking tired. Dean turned slightly and grabbed his by his collar pulling him into the hug as well. Sam hugged his brother back, but Castiel stood very still.

"I am very uncomfortable and in mass amounts of pain." Castiel stated. Dean released the two of them and looked at them for a while, until his light headedness started to sink in.

He swayed slightly on the spot. Castiel and Sam rushed forwards and supported each of his arms, leading him out of the wreck.

"Are you guys gonna be alright?" Sam asked them once they reached the car.

"I'll be fine." Castiel said as he helped Dean into the passenger seat. "Dean will probably be sore for a while; you were there for much longer than I was."

"How long?" Dean asked.

"You disappeared about 3 days ago. We were hunting a nest of vampires and you just "went missing." You don't remember?"

Dean shook his head. The nest of vampires sounded vaguely familiar but he was just shocked that he had been there for 3 days.

"His memory should return, the chemicals they used on him will affect his memory for a little while."

"How long were you there?" Dean asked Castiel.

"I went looking for you a day after you went missing. And I found you, but was less than successful in saving you."

Dean remembered the flicker just before Castiel was killed in his hallucination. That was the real Cas. "Don't beat yourself up too much Cas." Dean said. "You tried your best."

"I know that, and I'm not. I've been beat up enough for one day." Castiel answered bluntly. Dean raised his eyebrows and let his head rest against the back of the seat.

"So I was there for 3 days, drugged, beaten and poisoned? I think I win for suckiest luck in the universe." Dean said with a little smile.

"I was unaware that there was such a contest." Castiel said. Both Dean and Sam looked at him. Dean laughed. "Cas, you're great."

Castiel managed a small smile as he climbed into the back of the car. Sam suggested that they take Dean to a hospital, just to be safe but Dean refused and instead demanded that Sam take him to the nearest location that sold alcohol and or pie. Sam looked at Castiel for support, but he merely shrugged.

"Perhaps we should listen to him."

"Thank you!" Dean said, "Finally someone understands my pain."

"Don't encourage him." Sam said.

"Well actually," Castiel said, "I was thinking more along the lines of the fact that the only thing in his system for the past 3 days has been hallucinogens and poison, and that food may reduce your risk of dying from starvation."

Dean scoffed but smiled widely.

Sam and Castiel began discussing what they should do after Dean was fed and watered as Dean let his eyes close.

"Do you want us to shut up so you can sleep, you must be exhausted?" Sam asked.

"No, no, keep talking." Dean said without opening his eyes. He was just glad to hear their voices again.