A/N:
We had this idea floating around since the finale of season 9. Took a while for all of us to get together to write it but finally we finished the first chapter. It will be slow with posting at first while we sort out more chapters but it should be more frequent later on. Feedback is much appreciated.
Story will be Destiel but it will not be the main focus but it will still play a large part in the storyline
"Where the hell are you Crowley?!" Sam yelled in frustration as he paced the dungeon. The incense burned on the ground; mixing with the stench of alcohol throughout the room. "Fine, if you're not going to help me I will find my own way". Sam leaves, leaving a trail of broken glass and alcohol in his wake. He heads towards the library with the intention of scouring it's collection in the hopes of helping his brother. He grabs the first book he sees and starting flipping through the pages. Sam tries his best to make sense of what is on the page but finds he is too drunk to concentrate on the words. He runs his hands through his hair as he lets out an exasperated sigh. "Cas… Are you there? I really need your help here man. It's Dean."
"Hey Sammy" comes Dean's voice from the doorway. Sam jumps at the sound and turns around slowly, cautious but hopeful.
"Dean, is that really you?" Sam asked as he staggered towards Dean. He approaches his brother and grabs his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug although Dean does not reciprocate.
"Dude, you smell like a drunken homeless man." He mocked as he pushed his younger brother away. "Yeah, yeah Sammy, it's really me."
"But how?"
Dean smirked, glancing up as his eyes change to black. Sam stumbled backwards, reaching for Ruby's knife on the table; instead, he grabs the arm of a chair and promptly falls over.
"Wow," Dean scoffs "Crowley's right; you are a moose." Sam sits silently, staring up at his brother. "Look Sammy, I don't really know what's going on so for right we're gonna have to go our separate ways. I need you to be safe and safe ain't with me."
"But wait! Don't you wanna see if Cas can fix this?"
"No." Dean turns away from Sam, heading towards the stairs. He looks back over his shoulder solemnly "tell Cas I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what Dean?!" Sam yells as the door slams.
Sam is jolted awake by the sound of a vigorous knock on the door. Gripping his head and groaning he shouts "just gimme a minute."
"SAM?!" comes a gravelly voice through the door. He hurries to the door upon recognizing the voice.
Sam swings the door open "dude what the hell? I prayed to you yesterday!"
Castiel looks up at Sam sadly and asks "Is it true Sam? Did Metatron really kill Dean? Tell me he lied."
"Well Cas, he wasn't lying but it's complicated."
"What do you mean, 'complicated'?"
"When I saw him last night, I think something possessed him but he was still him. I'm not really sure what's going on."
"Did he say anything?"
"Not much, just that he couldn't stay and to tell you he's sorry."
"Sorry for what?"
"Not a clue man. Hey are you gonna stick around? I could really use your help."
"Of course, anything for family." Castiel forces a small smile. He follows Sam into the library; hoping that the Men of Letters have something to help Dean. After hours of research, Castiel gets frustrated with the lack of answers. He glances at Sam and notices him nodding off. "Perhaps you should go and rest Sam, you look horrible and you're no help exhausted." Sam attempts to argue with him but the worried look on Castiel's face suggests maybe he shouldn't.
"Yeah you're right Cas." Sam agrees as he runs his hand through his hair. He gets up from his seat and heads to his room for some much needed rest.
Once the Angel was sure Sam was asleep, He proceeded to the basement to assemble the necessary ingredients to summon Crowley. He was hesitant to work with the demon again but Crowley was with Dean when he received the mark. He hoped that Crowley can provide the whereabouts of Cain. With the flick of a match, the King of Hell arrives.
"Well, well, well Castiel. This wouldn't have anything to do with a one Dean Winchester would it?" Crowley says with a smug smirk.
"What do you know?"
"That depends on what you know" Crowley countered.
"I don't have time for your games Crowley; just answer my question."
"Now, now Castiel, don't get your knickers in a twist. I did you the courtesy of coming when you called."
Castiel rolls his eyes and sighs. "Crowley…." he begins.
Crowley cuts him off "let me guess, you're looking for Cain and you want me to provide his location. Hate to burst your bubble, angel but I see no benefit for me in relinquishing that information to you." Crowley vanishes before Castiel can respond; leaving him with more questions than answers. The Angel heads back to the library slightly defeated. He continued his fruitless effort of searching through the contents.
Sam enters the library, appearing fully rested. "Have you found anything?"
Castiel responds, without even sparing a glance "hello Sam, well rested I presume?"
"Uhhh… yeah Cas I am, so, have you found anything? He asks again.
Castiel sighs "nothing in the Men of Letters files and Crowley was no help either…"
"Woah wait, Crowley was here?"
"Yes Sam, I summoned him. I was hoping he had some answers as to the whereabouts of Cain."
"And?" he looks at Castiel hopefully.
"It seems it was not beneficial for him to give me that information."
Sam sighs "well I guess we're just gonna have to keep looking through the library."
"So who summoned you?"
"Dean, Dean, Dean, who do you think summoned me?"
Dean rolls his eyes "of course Sam would try and summon you."
"No, it was your angel boy-" Crowley scans the room and notices all of the unconscious bar patrons on the floor. "What the hell happened here?"
Dean shrugs "they didn't like my singing. So it was Cas?" He leans over the bar and grabs a bottle of their top shelf whiskey. "Wanna drink?" He pours two glasses and slides one over to Crowley.
"I think we need to go over the ground rules, such as keeping a low profile."
Dean scoffs "fuck your rules."
"Remember your place; I'm the King of Hell."
"Yeah, self-appointed King of Hell. I think it's time for a regime change." He smirks.
"Watch your mouth squirrel; remember how well that worked out for Abbadon."
"Yeah but the difference between me an' her, is that I have the only thing that can kill me." Dean finishes his drink and strolls out.
Crowley shouts as the door shuts "what makes you think you can threaten your king?"
As Dean proceeds outside, he approaches Crowley's lackeys. "Hey, men in black, is there a good party around here? Where one can, you know, let off some steam?" The unnamed lackeys give Dean a blank stare, not answering him in the slightest. "Well fine then, I'll just go find my own party." Dean jumps in the Impala and heads further into town; looking for a good time. After driving for a bit, he notices an attractive, brunette woman pacing back and forth on the sidewalk. He pulls up to her and she leans into the window.
"Hey sugar, you lookin' for a date?"
"Get in; we'll paint the town red."
"Sure honey, but cash up front." Dean holds up a number of folded bills. She smiles and gets in the Impala. "I never would have thought that the great Dean Winchester would have joined the ranks of us 'lowly' demons."
"Are we still doing this or do you need to tuck and roll?"
"Oh no, I'm definitely still up for this. How could I pass up such handsome devil?"
"Wrong meat suit honey." Dean mentions as they pull up to the motel. "Just so you know, I'm kind of into some kinky shit"
"No problem sugar, I've seen it all." She kicks off her shoes and takes off her jacket, throwing it on a chair as they enter the room. Dean approaches her, grabbing her by the back of the neck and kisses her roughly. He pushes her to the bed. Dean walks over to his duffel bag and rummages through it until he finds two silk ties. He ties her legs to the end of the bed, kissing his way up her legs towards her torso.
"Put your hands above your head." He says in a husky voice; his classic smirk spreading across his face. Dean takes off his shirt and crawls on top of her, straddling her hips. He leans in, bites her earlobe and pulls; distracting her from the cuffs cinching on her wrists. Slowly, he reaches down, pulling a knife hidden in his sock.
"Sugar, what's with the knife? I'm not that kinky"
"I thought you said you've 'seen it all'?" Dean chuckles as he makes a small nick on the seam of her skirt. Grabbing either side of the nick, he rips the skirt off in one quick motion; casting it aside.
She giggles "what am I supposed to walk home in?"
"Oh Sweetheart, you're not gonna be able to walk after I'm done."
"Ooooh I like the way you talk." He brusquely takes the front of her shirt in his free hand; using the knife to slice the shirt from her body and grazes her sternum in the process. "Careful sugar, you got me there."
He leans in, as if to kiss her "oops, did I?" He sneers; his eyes flashing to black. In a quick, deft motion, he slashes from her ear to her chin.
"What the fuck was that?" she screams in agony; struggling against her bonds. Panicked, she attempts to smoke out of her body, suddenly, she realizes she's stuck. She desperately scans the room for the Devil's trap.
"What? Can't smoke out? Wonder why that is?" he says while tapping on at the handcuffs.
"Fuck you!" she shrieks again and again.
"I think you need to shut up." Dean leans back and removes one of his socks; balling it up and shoving it in her mouth. She attempts to spit out the sock. Dean rolls his eyes as he climbs off of her; heading towards the table to retrieve his bag. He then throws his leg back over her, straddling her once again. Dean takes duct tape from his bag, rips off a piece and slaps it across her mouth. Picking up his knife, he says with a grin "and now for the fun part." He starts at the joint of the shoulder, creating a cut all the way down to her elbow and circling back up to meet the first cut, cutting a patch out of her skin. He revels in her muffled cries as he begins to peel off each section of her skin. He gets lost in the heat of the blood pooling around him, her screams and the helplessness of his victim. He gradually comes out of his haze as the body becomes limp under him. Pulling himself off of her, he heads towards the shower to clean himself up. Once he's out and dressed, he walks around the room, gathering his belongings. Seeing she's unconscious and realizing he needs his handcuffs back; Dean creates a small devil's trap above the bed in her blood. He then carefully removes the handcuffs, leaning towards her ear he whispers "I know you're still alive bitch; demons don't die that easily." Dean glances at the money on the table, shrugging, he stuffs it in his pocket and leaves.
A few hours later, Crowley appears in the motel room, looking around at the damage in disbelief. "Oh squirrel, that was my best informant…" He saunters over to the bed and makes a crack in the devil's trap. "Go clean yourself up; I have business to attend to." He turns his back to her as she smokes out. Crowley sighs, putting the phone to his ear.
"Moose, we have a bit of a dilemma."