S10e14 The Executioner's Song
A tattooed man lies on his back in a jail cell, bored and listless.
A heavy-set guard walks down the lines of cells. He looks inside the window of each cell, then taps the door with his stick before moving on. "Lights out in 5," he says in a gruff voice.
"Hey, any mail?" The tattooed man sits up in his cell, calling outside to the guard.
"Ohhhh, the usual. Postcards from the death penalty folk. Proposals from your lady admirer. You said you were done with those?"
The prisoner in the cell window nods his head.
The guard turns and walks on.
"Hey, how's your wife by the way," the prisoner calls out to the back of the guard.
The guard stops, a sense of restraint in his movement. He knows what's coming from the tattooed man.
"Amanda. That's her name isn't it? You know I killed an Amanda once. Like fourth." The prisoner stuffs a piece of paper napkin inside his nose.
The guard slowly turns back to the prisoner's cell.
"I'd do your wife the same buddy," the prisoner taunts. "Only slower."
The guard shakes his head calmly. "Two weeks from Tuesday, Tommy." The guard draws a line across his neck.
"Hehah. Let's do it," Tommy snivels. "Let's do it now!"
The guard reaches a locked prison door. He nods up at a security camera and leaves.
Lights flicker. The shadow of a man appears threateningly in front of the prison door. With another flicker of light, the shape of a man reappears on the other side of the prison door.
In the security room, the man pours himself coffee, his back to the security monitors. The heavy-set guard walks into the room.
The supernatural creatures walks forward into the corridor of prison cells.
In the security room, the man asks, "Tolliver giving you the usual grief?"
"Nothing new," the heavy set guard says, placing his weapons into a locker.
Back in the prison corridor, the creature walks down the doors as the heavy-set guard had just done. Each time he touches the chains on the walls, the lights dim and go out.
Tolliver peers out his cell window.
Back in the security room, the heavy set guard complains to his coworker. "I can't wait until he's gone." The guard glances into the screen. He sees the shadow of the man-shaped figure striding down the corridor. The cameras go dark as all of the lights in the cells turn off.
Suddenly, the lights flick back on. Empty corridors are all that show up in the security monitors. The heavy set guard looks over at his buddy. The man shakes his head. The heavy-set guard shrugs a little.
Inside Tolliver's cell, the man appears.
"Who the hell are you?" Tolliver demands. "How'd you get in here?"
"I've gone by many names in this life," he replies in a calm, pleasant voice. "The father of murder is one of them."
Tolliver backs away, circling Cain.
"By the state's account, you've taken six lives yourself Tommy. Although by my count, it's nine."
Tolliver's shaky hands push a book off a battered metal fold-down desktop. "Aw, come on. You're not one of those it's not me fellows," Cain says in a falsely sympathetic voice. "Because I know you're a killer. Just like me."
Tolliver grins, showing his teeth. "Yeah," he says proudly, "I did it."
"Honesty, that's good." Cain praises him. "That's the spirit," he growls as Tolliver swings a fist at Cain. Cain catches the fist easily in one hand, twisting Tolliver's hand down with a crunching twist of torn tendons.
"Ohh," Tolliver gasps.
Cain raises his right hand, two fingers outstretched. Inexorably, Tolliver's other arm presses down. "Now I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here. Did I come to punish you? Or save you?" Cain draws a silver blade. "Well the truth is, Tommy," Cain whispers into Tommy Tolliver's ear, "I'm here to do both."
Tolliver whimpers.
Cain slips the blade through Tommy's body in an easy motion. The bloody point of the knife protrudes out from the back of Tolliver's prison shirt. A drip of blood falls down from the point of the knife. Both men disappear.
Polunksy Unit. West Livingstone, Texas
A suited man crouches in front of the drip of blood on the cell floor.
"Warden Ski?" Dean asks from behind the man.
"Inspectors Moore and Alder," Sam points subtly at Dean. "We spoke on the phone."
"Yeah," the warden says, "Welcome to death row. Have a look," he says, gesturing with his hand. "I think you'll be finding we're OTIG compliant." The warden walks out of the cell.
Dean gestures at Sam, in the direction of the warden, and slips the EMF reader of his coat pocket. Sam follows the warden outside. "So, why don't you tell me what happened?"
"The night Tolliver disappeared, our little ship was as tight as ever. And I got documentation to prove it." The warden speaks curtly.
Dean crouches down over the blood spot, EMF meter in hand.
"You stand by what the press is saying?" Sam asks, his body blocked the door and the warden's view into the room. "Locked cell, no security breach, no guard misconduct?" The heavy-set guard glares silently at Sam from across the hallway.
"Which press? Mainstream media is calling for my head. Said I was grossly incompetent. But the tabloids, they're saying,"
"They're saying it's supernatural." Sam interrupts, talking over the warden. "Do you believe that?" Sam asks calmly.
The warden replies evenly. "I'm saying there was some kind of magician on the block last night ... that it wasn't Tommy."
The Security Room
"That's right before Tolliver vanishes," the warden explains, as they watch the security videos.
"Is that a brownout?" Sam asks as he sees the lights dim.
"That was my thought," the warden nods his head at the screen, "But then …"
They watch as the figure of a man appears in the security video, lights dimming as the man passes through the corridor.
"Is that one of the guards?" Sam asks.
"Nope," replies the warden. "I don't know who he is, how he got in, or how he and Tolliver got out."
Dean's face creases in recognition. "Can you zoom in on that?"
"Why? Too dark to make out much of anything," the warden says.
"Do it," Dean says. They watch the outline of the man walk towards the cell. "Freeze it. Blow it up." Dean stares closely at the profile on the monitor. His left hand grips his right forearm where the Mark of Cain lies.
A Room
Castiel faces a man tied to a chair in the middle of a room. A cell phone rings. "You gonna answer that?" the man says in an annoyed voice.
"Not at this moment." Castiel says calmly.
The man's demonic black eyes look especially dark framed by his pale face and red hair. "You're wasting your time. Told you, I don't know where he is."
Castiel paces around the demon.
"The demon Cain has friends. He kills demons. Low level ones like me, we keep our distance."
"You sure about that," Castiel asks, looming over the demon. Casually, he slices the demon's arm. The knife burns a fiery trail down the demon's arm.
"Alright, alright," the demon gasps, sweating. "He's been seen the past few months, making passes through Bogsmarsh, one county over. No one knows why, what for. Like I said, we keep our distance."
Castiel lifts his angelblade to the demon's right eye. "And that's all you know?" he asks in a flat voice.
"Yes. Yes, I swear."
Castiel lowers the blade.
The demon drops his head down in relief.
With a sad look of concern, Castiel drives the angelwing into the demon's chest. Light bursts from the demon's eyes.
Crowley's Throne Room
"86 last quarter," a man says excitedly. "I'll only get credit for 48. And I was working with Alban on almost all those soul jobs."
In a bored voice, Crowley says, "If you don't arrive at a point within the next 10 seconds, so help me," he says while looking at his iphone.
"As a crossroads demon, I have received less credit than I am due for soul collections." The red-haired demon complains to Crowley. "My King."
"So you're looking for a promotion." Crowley says.
"No! I'm just asking …" the demon continues forcefully.
Crowley gives the demon a look.
In a meeker voice, the demon continues, "I'm merely suggesting that I get credit for the work that I did beside Alban. Equal credit for equal work."
"Fine, you can have your credit." Crowley replies.
"Thank you," the demon says.
"Oh the wee man," Rowena says, as she sits on a chair near Crowley, sewing.
"Mother, you have .. uh .. an opinion that you would like to share with the world?"
"Oh no, private thought. Nothing to do with you, or the affairs of the court." Rowena sits back. She leans forward and interjects, "It's just not what I would do."
"Oh enlighten a soul. What would you do?" Crowley smiles charmingly.
Rowena drops her eyes from the demon, working on her sewing. "This demon, he asked you to equalize credit for his and another demon's work. Split the baby if you will. Well, then I would well and truly split the baby, " she says, looking up nastily at the red-haired demon. "I'd cut the puling grub in half, literally."
Crowley looks thoughtful.
"Then I'd nail his bloody heart to the door to the court, a reminder to all not to waste the King's time." Rowena continues in a commanding voice. "Whiner's beget whiners. You can't reward behavior like that. It's why I never gave you sweeties when you asked as a child. No matter how much you cried."
Crowley's expression changes. "That's enough." Crowley says in a quiet voice.
Crowley looks over at the demon standing to his left, beside his throne.
"What will it be sir?"
Crowley leans forward, looking at the cringing red-haired demon. "Let's do … what she said."
"Wha? Nnnnnnnn," the red-haired demon stammers as two guard demons grab him. "No, no no no!" he screams.
Crowley looks over at his mother and gives a half-smile.
"That's my boy," Rowena smiles at him.
The Impala
Light flicker by the darkness as the Impala speeds down a highway.
Sam says,"I've been looking into Tommy Tolliver's history to figure out why Cain would go to the trouble of springing him."
"And?" Dean prompts.
"Still pretty unclear," Sam responds, looking at his ipad. "I found this blotter out of Orlando about his dad, Leon Tolliver. Uh, like father like son. Convicted felon, fresh warrant for assault charge. But he's gone missing." Sam turns to look at Dean. "Hasn't been seen in a week."
"You think the two are connected?" Dean asks.
"I mean, police just assumed he fled the warrant. "But if Cain took Tommy, it might not be a coincidence."
"So what, Cain's got a vendetta against the guy's family?"
Sam shrugs, making a face. "Maybe."
Dean's phone rings. "It's Cass," he says, looking at the phone. He turns on the speaker. "Hey, where you at?"
"Illinois," Cass says.
"Hey we got a lead, Cain abducted a Texas deathrow inmate named Tommy Tolliver."
In the clearing, Castiel handles a white shoe. "It's likely that he is dead."
"What?" Sam exclaims. "Why is that?"
"An educated guess. Cain has been very busy." Castiel stands up in a large clearing full of body-sized mounds.
"Okay, where are you? We're coming to you." Dean says.
Jimmy Novak's face twists into a concerned frown. "I'll call you back," Castiel says, hanging up without revealing his location. Castiel turns. Cain stands not more than 50 feet away.
"Hello, Castiel," Cain says coldly.
"What have you done?" Castiel asks quietly, his voice barely audible.
"The bodies?" Cain says evenly, glancing around the clearing. "Just cleaning up a mess I made a long time ago."
"Cain, I know what you were," Castiel's voice is tight with emotion. "But you've resisted for so long."
"What can I say. I got the taste back. With Abaddon's army gunning for me, I had to take up arms again. I like how it feels." Cain closes the distance towards Castiel.
"These are humans, Cain." The passion in Castiel's voice contrasts with the evenness in Cain.
"The Mark thirsts for all kinds," Cain intones calmly, crouching and picking up a dirty teddy bear from the ground.
"This is a massacre," Castiel accuses Cain.
"Yes, and soon it will be a genocide. My children, my whole poisoned issue. A lot of them out there now. Killers, fighters, thieves. Some more peaceful than others. They still carry it, a disease. If the Mark wants blood I will give it mine." Cain's deep voice rolls out the words with less venom than his words carry.
"You will kill them all? You are Adam and Eve's firstborn. Your descendants are legion." Castiel steps towards Cain.
"At most I'm culling, one in ten." Cain says.
"Of everyone?" Castiel asks.
"I've got time," Cain replies shortly. "How's Dean by the way I hear he did good. Took Abaddon down."
The look on Castiel's face tells Cain enough.
"He's not well," Cain says.
"Even with the First Blade hidden, Dean is losing his fight against the Mark. If we don't find a cure…"
"There is no cure," Cain cuts across Castiel's words. "I'm living proof of that. But don't worry about Dean. I'll get to him in due time."
The angelblade slips into Castiel's right hand.
"Sorry Castiel," Cain says, glancing at the blade. "You're not on my list." Cain disappears, leaving Castiel alone in the clearing.
The Demon King's Castle
Crowley and Rowena walk down a hallway. "Crowley," Rowena says. "I have wonderful little idea."
"Yes," Crowley says in a quiet voice.
"The name of it means little to you. A ranking member of the Grand Coven, the one who laid the charge against me. Really, it's a grudge, I won't deny it. She's just come to the states. And I thought if you and your Kingly beneficence would be so kind as to assist me, now would be an excellent time to strike."
Crowley looks levelly at Rowena, his expression unreadable. "Well done mother, next time you run a long con, let more than a few hours of suspicious uncharacteristic usefulness pass before making your ask."
"You think I had an ulterior motive?" Rowena asks sweetly. "That I've been manipulating you?"
"You couldn't be more transparent," Crowley says gently.
Rowena giggles, "Well, of course I was manipulating you. I am your mother after all," she says with a wide smile. "Manipulation's who we are. My wee sausage, what matters it I had a motive, we had fun today didn't we?"
"It was fine," Crowley replies levelly.
"We could have more," Rowena says coyly. "Flex our muscles in the upper world. And in the process, take out a miserable old witch who's been standing in my way for centuries. What do you say?"
Crowley turns. He walks down the hallway, away from Rowena.
The Bunker
Dean's cell phone rings. He checks the caller ID, then answers, "Hey Tina."
Tina breathes heavily on the other line, "Dean, I'm sorry to call you like this. You know how I said how I'm always okay? Well, I ran into some trouble," she takes a deep breath, "And I really need your help on this one buddy." Her adult words clash oddly with her light, childish voice.
"What's wrong?" Dean asks curtly.
"I was camping with a group of homeless kids in Kennewick. Couple nights ago, I find a body that looked partly eaten. I get out of town and convince the kids to come with me. Last night, we get into Spokane, check into a youth shelter." Tina's whispered voice rushes on, "This morning, one of the kids is gone and I catch a glimpse..." click.
"Tina?"
Castiel appears.
Spokane, WA
Tina whirls around, slipping her cell phone into a pocket.
In sharp contrast to the dorm-like surroundings, a thin man in a suit looms over Tina. "Glimpse of what, my dear?" he smiles, reaching out for her arm.
The Bunker
Castiel says, "I'm sorry Dean."
"It's not your fault Cass," Dean says in a low voice.
"Thank you," Sam says to Cass. "It seems to fit. There's no way to tell the relation to Cain obviously, but he's wiping out entire families, one after the other."
"So who's next, is he done with the Tollivers?" Dean asks.
"Uh, I think so. I mean, Neil didn't have any siblings, children I can see, and Tommy was never married, so I." Sam looks at the reports scrolling by. "Oh come on, dammit."
Cass walks over to look at the laptop. "What?"
"Tommy did have a son. Estranged. He lives with his mother in Ohio." Sam pulls up the birth certificate. "Uh, Austin Reynolds, 12 years old."
"Is the kid still alive?" Dean asks urgently.
"As of an hour ago," Sam says, pulling up the kid's facebook page. "Yeah, he updated his status. It's a kid, you don't think Cain would…"
"Yes, he would," Castiel interrupts in a whisper.
"There weren't only men in those graves Sam, and you heard Cass. Everyones gotta go," Dean waves his arms, then walks off.
"Where you going?" Sam asks.
Dean waves his arm at the laptop. "We know where Cain's going to be. The kid's in danger."
Cass and Sam look at Dean.
Sam says, "So what, we track him down to Ohio, and then what."
"Then I'll do what I have to do," Dean says with his usual mixture of egotism and idiocy. "I'll kill Cain."
Dean's Room
Sam walks through the open door into Dean's room, a look of annoyed disbelief on his face. Dean continues prepping weapons.
"When he gave me the Mark, Cain said that this day would come. That after I killed Abaddon, I would come and put him down." Dean locks a shotgun, tossing it onto his bed.
"Great, so you're taking orders from a madman." Sam says sarcastically.
"Heh," Dean grunts, "He wasn't mad then. Cain resisted the Mark for a long time. Then I came along." Dean looks up at Sam, "I sent him down this path. This is on me."
"Doesn't mean you have to be the one to go after him," Sam says, his arms out, pleading gently with Dean, his body at odds with the harsh tone of his words.
"Yes, it does," Dean answers, loading a clip into his .45. "There's only one thing that can kill him."
"The Blade," Sam says, looking away from Dean.
Castiel walks forward, entering the conversation. "Dean is right. However, Cain seemed .. confident in his ability to defeat me."
"Dean think for a minute! Even if you win, and that's a big if, you may never come back from that fight the same."
Dean looks up to face Sam. "I know," he says quietly.
The King of Hell's Castle
"And a demon force to get us past her security." Rowena strokes a map laid out on a table, glancing triumphantly at Crowley. "Once we're inside, well we'll take her off guard. Just look at wha I got," Rowena holds up a large piece of amber.
"Illusion-work. Smart," Crowley says tolerantly. His cell phone rings. Not Moose shows up in the caller ID. "Excuse me, be right back," Crowley walks away for some privacy.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't…"
"Cain's back." Dean's voice cuts across Crowley's. "He's gone dark and I need the Blade."
"Why would I deal with you?"
"Because you have as much reason as anyone to want Cain off the board. Cain has a kill list. And you're on it." Dean pauses to let the information sink in. "What do you say Crowley, you in?"
With a start, Crowley answers, "Yes."
"Good, I'm texting you the location." Dean hangs up.
Rowena starts speaking as Crowley hangs up the phone and turns towards her. "Once she's well flustered I've got an especially nasty spell to finish her off with."
"Mother, it's not happening."
Rowena looks up at Crowley. "What?" she says in a small voice.
"Not today." Crowley says.
"Where are you going?" Rowena asks urgently.
"Something's come up." Crowley flips open a metal lid on a table. "All of it can wait." A drawer shoots out, a wrapped bundle the size of the First Blade lies in the drawer alone.
"Is that wha I think it is?" Rowena asks shrilly.
"Not that it's any of your business." Crowley says.
"Let me guess, bringing it to the Winchester boy. You'd give that to the one person who can harness its power against you."
"We've a common enemy. A bigger threat."
"Well, if he's not a threat to your life, he's certainly a threat to your credibility." Rowena lashes at Crowley verbally.
"We're not having this conversation," Crowley says, a twisted look passing over his face.
A gate slams behind Crowley with a clash as he leaves the room.
The Bunker
"Dean doesn't have a chance," Sam says, turning to Castiel.
Castiel pauses. "What do you propose that we do?"
Sam and Castiel end their conversation abruptly as Dean enters the room. Dean sets his bag down on the table. "I propose that Cass and I go kill Cain, and Sam," Dean gives Sam a look, "You go help Tina."
"Couldn't you reach her?"
"No, she didn't pick up. Whatever she's worried about, she thinks it's our kind of thing."
"Is it really that important? You don't have a plan A for killing..."
"She wouldn't have called if it wasn't important." Dean says loudly. "Look, after you take care of it, Cass can zap you to us."
Castiel looks at Dean.
Spokane, WA
Sam walks into the dormitory with the slim, suited man. "Now, you're sure she wasn't here earlier? I know this is a place she was thinking of running to."
"Your daughter seems quite the charming planner," the man smiles slickly.
Sam smiles politely back. "I'm sure, Mr. Connors. She's probably using a fake name. She .. has these fantasies growing up, and with my wife leaving. It's been a hard time for her."
Heaving a sigh, Sam sits down on a bunk, looking depressed.
After a long pause, the man says, "Well ..." he looks at Sam uncooperatively.
Sam gets up. "Yeah," he says as they walk out of the shelter. "Thank you."
Outside the dorm, Sam sighs a genuine sigh of frustration. His eye falls on a boy watching the dorm from across the street.
Sam starts casually walking to the boy.
The boy stares at Sam, with a frightened look. Suddenly, he breaks and starts running.
Sam runs after the boy, "Hey, hey Jacob! Jacob do you remember me? I visited your mother once, when you were sick."
The boy looks over his shoulder, but keeps running.
Sam chases the boy into a wide alley. Cornered, Jacob turns and looks up at Sam. "You probably don't remember me," Sam gasps for breath, towering over Jacob. "You were sick when I visited last. Your mother and I were childhood friends. Look, I didn't expect to meet you here. Tina called me, but she got cut off before she could explain. Please, will you tell me what's going on?"
Jacob gives Sam a cool, assessing look. He answers, "My mom died."
"I know. I'm sorry." Sam struggles to speak normally. "I didn't find out until later what happened."
Jacob gives Sam a look. "I met Owen and Andrew in Kennewick and they've been letting me stay with them in their tent. The cops don't bother us out there and they try to protect me, like they're my brothers. Tina showed up in town and she talked them into letting her live in their tent. Next she freaks out and convinces them to leave town and come out here. I got a bad feeling in that home and snuck out." Jacob glares at Sam challengingly.
"Yeah, okay. Did you notice anything while you were watching?"
Jacob doesn't answer.
"Smell anything?" Sam suggests.
Jacob gives Sam a sharp look. "Tina and Mr. Connors, they smell bad."
"Bad how?" Sam asks.
"I don't know. The same bad," Jacob answers.
"Huh. Maybe witchcraft. Tina's under a spell," Sam explains to Jacob. "One I couldn't break at the time. She just wanted to leave and get out of town. Okay, come on." Sam says. He looks out the alley and starts walking. "You wait in my car and I'm going in for Tina and your brothers. Do you have a cell phone?" Sam asks.
Children's Shelter, Spokane, WA
Sam walks down a hallway, moving quickly. Sam looks around, then walks up to an office. The door is locked.
The slick man suddenly appears at Sam's side. "What ..."
"Mr Connors, Mr. Connors. Yeah, you know, we need to talk privately." Sam says aggressively. "That kid outside just old me he saw my daughter in here." Sam glances around.
Connors reaches into a pocket, "M..."
Sam slams a fist into Mr. Connors' head, then shoves the man into the wall.
"Muuurmooo.." Mr Connors continues speaking an incantation.
Sam's gun is in his hand.
Bang.
Sam fires into the witch's chest. "Dammit," Sam swears as the witch falls bleeding to the ground.
A scream and the sound of running feet can be heard in the background.
Sam slips the gun back into his jacket and crouches down. He searches through the man's pockets, finally pulling out jangling keys.
Sam unlocks the office door and enters, closing the door behind him. The cluttered office is covered in papers. Sam searches the place. Outside, he can hear another scream and running feet. Opening a file drawer, Sam sees an altar with witch's paraphernalia and a book. Sam flips through a stack of photos are on the altar. Tina's photo is on top.
Sam takes the book, then stops at the door, listening. It's quiet outside. Sam slips open the door and swings it shut behind.
A scruffy, shabbily-dressed kid turns a corner outside in the hallway, eyes going to the body on the floor. She looks up, sees Sam and freezes.
"It's ok! I'm here for my daughter. Have you seen her?"
The kid shakes her head.
"Quickly, run before the gunman comes back!" Sam orders her.
The kid looks at Sam, then runs.
Sam races down the hall, testing the doors. Kids stare at him from the rooms.
"Dean, Dean is that you?" Sam hears a voice call out.
Sam tracks the voice down to a locked dorm room, with the window papered over. Sam fumbles with the keys.
Finally, the door clicks open. Tina looks up, "Sam! Mr. Connors is a witch!"
"I shot him. Let's go, hurry!" Sam takes her by the wrist. "We'll need to burn him."
"The whole shelter?" Tina asks in alarm.
"Yeah, maybe," Sam says as they run down some stairs.
Back at the body, Sam sloshes oil from a flask over the body, then sets it on fire.
Tina watches Sam with a strange expression on her face.
"Is there a back door to this place?"
"Yeah, over here," Tina says looking down the hall. "When I tried to leave, I couldn't walk out the door."
"Alright," Sam says, "Did Mr. Connors give you anything to wear?"
Tina holds out her arm. A plastic ID tag circles her thin wrist.
Sam draws his pocketknife and slits the tag off, tossing it onto the growing fire.
Sam enters the office, slams open the file cabinet, and grabs the stack of photos.
He tosses them onto the burning body and watches as they go up in flames. A fire alarm starts to scream and wail.
When the body looks thoroughly burned, Sam says, "Let's go."
Tina jogs ahead of him down the hallway.
They burst through double doors to a grassy space. A group of kids has clustered twenty feet away from the building, looking frightened. Sam yells, "Run, scatter! What are you doing?" The kids take off in all directions as Sam runs at them.
"Quickly!" Sam yells. He and Tina continue jogging quickly away from the building.
Crossing the greens and running through a backyard, they come out onto a residential street. The Impala is parked, with Jacob sitting in the back set. Sam and Tina scramble into the car.
Sam starts the engine and turns out onto the street. "Okay. Where do you think Owen and Andrew would hide?" Sam asks Tina.
Outside the Barn
The boy walks outside the barn, basketball under one arm, music blaring audibly through his earbuds. Hinges creak. A door slams. The boy pulls out his earbuds. "Someone there?" he calls out, looking around.
Cain appears before the boy. "Hello Austin."
"Who are you?" the boy asks, taken aback.
"I'm here to kill you." Cain casually draws a blade.
Castiel appears between Cain and the boy. "No you're not."
"Run!" Castiel orders the boy. The boy runs back to the door to the barn. Dean appears in the doorway, but the boy doesn't slow his run. Dean ducks out of the way as the boy runs inside.
"You can't stop me," Cain says levelly.
Castiel raises his left palm. Blue angel light shines in his eyes. Wind blows past Cain, moving his hair. The light in Cass' eyes dies.
With a simple gesture, Cain waves his blade, and Cass's angelwing flies out of his hand and onto the ground. A twist of his knife from twenty feet away, and Cass's body flies through the empty bin of a compost heap.
Inside the barn, Dean slides the doors shut. The boy backs away into the center of the barn, staring at Dean. Dean slides a rune-inscribed metal bar through the handles of the door. The barn door bangs, then the bangs stop. Cain appears behind the boy.
"Don't, please don't," the boy says.
Cain stabs. The boy disappears in purple light. "Illusion spell," Cain says.
"The real Austin is long gone," Dean says.
"18-th century magic, if I had to hazard a guess, Rune of Amaranth." Cain says lightly.
"Good eye," Crowley says as he walks out from behind a stack of hay. "Something I picked up from my mother."
"Well, I know you fear me. I can only assume you ..." Cain's foot wipes away some hay, revealing a devil's trap. "Clever. Won't hold me for long though."
"It won't need to," Dean says evenly.
Dean turns to Crowley, holding up his hand palm up, for the Blade.
Crowley holds out the Blade hilt-first, then hesitates. "What guarantee do I have that you'll give it back when you're done?"
Dean chuckles, his cheerfulness at odds with his words. "Whatever comes out of this barn, you take it out and take the Blade back yourself."
Crowley lets the hilt of the First Blade fall into Dean's hand. The Blade whines softly as Dean looks down at it.
Crowley disappears.
"Dean," Cain says. "My son, please allow me. This is the part where you tell me that it's not too late. I can lay down arms, abandon my mission. We don't have to fight." Cain draws out his words to eat up time for his Mark-enhanced demonic power to burn through the devil's trap.
"I'll spare us the formalities." Dean says. "You asked me to come and take you down after I finished Abaddon. Now here I am."
"Oh, no. When I made my bargain with Lucifer to kill Abel, I released a stain upon the earth. A stain deeper and far more lasting than mere precedence. Finally, I have a clear mind."
"Your bloodline's tainted, so you say." Dean waits at the edge of the large devil's trap.
"So I know," Cain says pleasantly. "Not all killers are my descendants and not all my descendants are killers, but enough are. Enough for me to know that extinguishing them is the least I owe this world. Can you honestly tell me that humanity's not better off with fewer Tommys and fewer Leons. Fewer yous." Cain nods at Dean.
"And what about the kid?" Dean asks harshly.
"He could go either way." Cain says. "I prefer to be thorough. How's it feel Dean, holding the Blade again?"
"It feels like a means to an end," Dean says calmly. He steps inside the trap.
"Then do it," Cain says.
Dean steps forward slowly. He swings wildly and slowly at Cain. Cain blocks Dean's attacks, toying with the human. He flicks Dean down. Dean rolls and gets up slowly. He swings at Cain again. Cain dodges easily. They grapple. Dean hits the hard floor of the barn and side rolls. Flung outside of the devil's trap, Dean gets up on his feet slowly, his body curled up against the pain. Dean moves to Cain and strikes again.
Cain grips Dean's wrists with his own, their arms crossed. "That seems a bit weaker from you than I would expect with the Blade. I think you can do better. Unless," Cain says, punching Dean. "You're holding back," he says accusingly.
"What is it Dean, do you think that if you hold back just enough, you won't succumb? That you'll leave this fight the same as you entered?" Cain holds Dean and flings him hard onto the floor outside the trap. "Look to my example, boy. There is no resisting the Mark or the Blade. There is only remission and relapse." Cain swings a fist down onto Dean.
Dean coughs, his body outside the trap. Kneeling, he looks up at Cain. "You told me that this day would come," Dean says as he gets to his feet. "You told me that I would have to kill you."
"Is that so?" Cain says coldly. He holds out his hand, and with a gesture Dean flies across the circle, crashing through an inside window. "I'm afraid you misunderstood my intentions here Dean. When your pet angel found my burial site, I thought about ending him and swatting him like a fly. But then I thought about you. Your biggest weakness. The thing I noticed the moment I met you. Your courage. Your reckless bravado."
The Blade lies half inside the devil's trap.
Cain continues speaking, "I let him go, knowing that he would report back to you. Knowing that you would bring into battle the one thing that can kill me. The one thing I truly want."
Dean leaps towards the Blade. The Blade slides across the hay on the barn floor, and stops at Cain's foot. Cain picks up the Blade. A sizzling sound comes from Cain's fist. "Oh, it's been too long." Cain closes his eyes. "That old feeling makes me wonder how I ever had the strength to resist."
Dean runs at Cain. Cain grabs Dean by the throat. "This may be hard to believe in light of what I'm about to do to you, but I care about you Dean. I truly do, but I know I'm doing you a favor. I'm saving you."
"Saving me from what?" Dean mumbles through Cain's iron grip on his throat.
"From your fate." Cain throws Dean on the ground. "Has it never occurred to you? Have you never mused upon the fact that you're living my life in reverse? My story began when I killed my brother and that's where your story inevitably will end." Dean rolls onto his back.
"No, never." Dean groans.
Cain slams his foot onto Dean's chest. "It's called the Mark of Cain for a reason. First, first you'd kill Crowley. There's be strange, mixed feelings on that one, but you'd have your reasons. You'd get it done, no remorse. And then you'd kill the angel, Castiel. Now that one, that I suspect would hurt something awful. And then!" Cain slams his body down on Dean, straddling Dean's body. "Then would come the murder you'd never survive. The one that would finally turn you into as much of a savage as me."
"No," Dean mutters, a hoarse whisper all he can manage to say.
"Your brother, Sam. The only thing standing between you and that destiny is this Blade." Cain pauses. Gently, he says, "You're welcome my son." Cain swings the unwieldy First Blade down.
Dean's sneaky fingers slip Cain's silver blade out of the scabbard. He slashes at Cain's arm. The merest touch of the archangel blade slides through Cain's arm, burning the wound closed. The hand and First Blade fall onto the barn floor. Cain grabs at the stump of his arm, whimpering. Dean grabs the First Blade and stands, slowly edging towards Cain.
"What's the matter," Cain says contemptuously.
"Tell me I don't have to do this. Tell me that you'll stop. Tell me that you can stop."
"I will never stop," Cain says calmly.
Dean circles Cain, facing his back.
Cain closes his eyes, allowing Dean to move behind him. Dean raises the Blade. He plunges it into Cain's back. Thunder rumbles.
Outside the Barn
Dean stumbles down the steps to the two waiting figures.
"Dean, the Blade," Crowley puts out his hand.
Dean hands the First Blade to Castiel. Cass takes the Blade and steps away from Crowley.
"You lied to me." Crowley says evenly.
"It's not the first time today. Cain's list. You weren't on it."
Crowley disappears.
Dean's battered face looks numb.
The King of Hell's Castle
Crowley walks into a room. His mother waits inside. "Fergus."
Crowley pours himself a drink. "I don't want to hear it. The 'I told you so.' Not now." Crowley looks at the bags at his mother's feet. "What are you doing?"
"What's it look like? I'm leaving."
"Another petty manipulation." Crowley strides to his mother, his drink in one hand.
"No."
"Then what mother, what do you want from me?" Crowley roars.
"You can't understand my disappointment. Or my pride. You don't know this. But after I left you, I heard of your death. Your mortal death. I thought you were gone to me forever. Then, hundreds of years later, and thousands of miles away, I find you the King of Hell."
Crowley smiles, while Rowena weeps.
"You're not a mother. You can't know what that pride felt like. How huge it was. But can you try to imagine. Do you understand why it breaks my heart to see what a fool you are? You've got the crown, but you're not ruler. A sad, bored boy on the throne, who'll flop ass-up for the merest shred of a friendship you feel for them, but they don't feel for you." Rowena looks at Crowley. "You make me sick," she says with a curl of her lip.
Rowena stumbles as Crowley grabs her wrist. "You're their bitch." She tells Crowley. She yanks her wrist of his grasp and walks away, leaving her bags on the floor.
The Bunker
Dean drinks from a mug, his face and knuckles bruised and scraped. Sam pours himself coffee. "Dean um, you know, what you did back there, it was incredible. You know, if you can fight Cain without losing yourself, that's cause for hope, even without a cure."
"Yeah," Dean's lips quirk into a small smile. "Maybe," he says hopefully. "How's Tina holding up?"
"She's fine. But, I mean another witch. What are the chances of that?" Sam says with a frown.
Cass enters the room.
"So, where's the Blade?" Dean asks.
"Somewhere safe, "Cass says.
"Good," Dean says.
"Well, if you guys will excuse me, I think I'm going to sleep for about four days." Dean gets up from the table.
"Of course," Sam says, smiling a little.
Dean pats Cass's shoulder as he walks by.
Cass turns to look at Dean leave, then asks Sam, "How is he?"
"Sam?" Cass asks again.
"Cass, Dean's in trouble."