A/N: Finally part three of my Fate series. I just hope that it is everything you all have been waiting for. I tied up a few lose ends (even one I had completely forgotten about, hehe) This story is full of Drama, Angst and mayhem. I hope the readers do not have pacemakers or weak hearts...for I can not be held responsible for any deaths after reading this.

In this conclusion...Sam has crossed over and it will take something even Dean can not imagine to bring him back. He will find out a secret about someone near to him that can save Sam and possibly end the hell that has been chasing him since birth. More secrets will be exposed and more people will die.

EDIT: Something just occurred to me...I just had an amazing idea, and had to change a little thing here...it adds a little mystery to the story, and helps with a prequel I am planning in the future, hehe...The line I am changing read: "As this man dropped his hood Sam's eyes widened as he saw Jacob Kline, Mary's biological brother." It will explain something in a later chapter, plus as I say add mystery and an eeriness to it...I hope you see that as well!

Disclaimer: Much thanx to Eric Kripke for his amazing series that gives us these wonderful plot bunnies to work with. We bow to you. And also thanx to the wonderful creators of SPN: Origins for the characters they added to the Winchester family. It helped tremendously in my connections.

"Let the devil grab but by a single hair, and you are his forever." - Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
"In at Genesis Semen Mortis Est." - Latin Phrase
"Sometimes we must feel pain in order to make room for salvation..."

XXXXX

"I need you to watch out for me." Sam heard the words resounding through his mind louder than ever before. The whole scene played back as it always did. He stared into the bathroom mirror, staring at his marred reflection, the marks of the previous fight fresh on his skin.

"I always do." Dean had lifted him off the chair, trying to convince his drunk ass that things were fine, that he was just overreacting. Sam knew then that things were going to hell in a handcart, but Dean just could not see it. Sam shook his head as the last eighteen months just proved his brother wrong.

" No, no, no, you have to watch...out...for me. Alright? And if I ever turn into something that I'm not, you have to kill me."

"Sam..."

"Dean, dad told you do it, you have to."

"Yeah well dad's an ass. He never should have said anything, I mean you don't, you don't lay that kinda crap on your kids.

"No, he was right to say it." That was what got Sam the most. His own father wanted his brother to kill him. Sam knew that it hurt Dean to do it, but his brother had no idea how much it killed him inside whenever he heard those words. Whenever he knew that he was closer to becoming a monster. And in the last month, he had stepped over that line, and was terrified he may never come back.

"Who knows what I might become? Even now everyone around me dies.

"Yeah well, I'm not dying, okay? And neither are you, come on sit down." Sam leaned on the bathroom sink. That was where Dean had been wrong, oh so wrong. Sam had died, and now that he had come back, he had brought hell back with him. Dean never should have done that, he should have left well enough alone. Sam loved his brother, would do anything for him, and knew that Dean would do the same for him, but he had gone too far this time.

"No please. Dean you're the only one that can do it. Promise!"

"Don't ask that of me..."

"Dean please you have to promise me!"

"I promise."

"Thanks. Thank you..."

As the vision blurred, slowly faded, another began. One Sam had never seen before. It was of his mother. She was much younger than himself, and was surrounded by men in black robes. As the vision became clearer, one of the men came into view. It was the original yellow eye. He lowered the hood on his robe, and stroked Mary's face, she smiled sweetly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Mary Kline, do you promise to give yourself to the council, forsaking all others?" His hand was now holding hers tightly. Mary stared deeply into his eyes, and she nodded. Sam felt sick to his stomach. Creigh had been telling the truth. As Mary stared at the daemon, he took a knife from inside his robes, and Sam almost convulsed. It was the same knife Layla had given him. Sam felt dizzy, not sure what the hell was going on.

The daemon cut into Mary's hand after his own, then placed their hands together, their blood mixing. Mary jerked a moment, then kissed him with a passion Sam had never seen. The other members began to chant loudly, moving about the room in a wild dance. In the corner of the room was a man drenched in shadows. He was dressed almost like a Tibetan Monk. The hood of the cloak was partially covering his face. He was dark and somehow sinister. The figure scared Sam. He seemed familiar yet at the same time a stranger. As this man dropped his hood Sam's eyes widened as he saw his very own father John Winchester!

The vision dissipated, and Sam fell to his knees, pain shooting throughout his body. Heat coursed from his head to his toes, making his stomach lurch. He slammed a hand against the sink cabinet, cracking it. A low growl emanated from his throat, and he doubled over.

Dean heard all the commotion and rushed in to find Sammy splayed out on the floor, unconscious. He scooped his brother up and carried him into the bedroom, laying him out on a too-small bed. Staring at his brother this way, drudged up too recent memories. Dean turned from him and ran smack into Bobby. The man who had arose from the grave like Christ himself, now stood in front of him like nothing had ever happened.

"Jesus Bobby," Dean gripped his chest, his heart beating faster than normal. Bobby stared at Sam, merely shaking his head. Something about the man was beginning to freak Dean out. It had been two weeks since Sam had fought Creigh, and in those fourteen days Bobby had been acting so different. Normally he would yell at the boys or want to bash their skulls together for being jackasses, but now he was so calm and serene, so much so it was making Dean sick. Now he was leaning against the door jamb looking at the sleeping boy not saying a word, just smiling. Dean was creeped out.

"Bobby, I wish you would stop that. People may begin to think your milk has expired." Dean half smiled. Bobby chuckled, then moved into the room. He sat next to Sam and looked down at him. Sam was motionless, save for his eyes. They jerked wildly, rapidly dancing under their closed lids. Bobby touched the boy lightly on the forehead and the movement ceased. Dean cocked an eyebrow, beginning to wonder what the hell had happened to Bobby in the time Sam had tossed him like a rag doll to when he came back like Sam had done. Yet this time there had been no deal with the devil, or had there?

"We have to let him rest." Bobby sighed, still touching Sam. His voice was softer, gentler. Dean did not know what to think anymore. Bobby stood then almost floated past the other man. There was a strange feeling as he did. A warmth that enveloped Dean, almost comforted him. The last time he had felt anything remotely like that was when his mother had been alive. Dean swallowed hard, gripping his face tightly. Something was extremely off kilter here.