{Sorry this took so long to update, I lost inspiration there for a little bit. But I should be back for good now. Hopefully you all like this. :) }

One Week Later.

Dean had made his decision. And once it was justified in his mind, It became the simplest thing to do. Maybe that was part of his change, the moment he'd decided to accept the destiny, it was done. Dean felt an almost physical relief, as if his body had been tense, waiting for what it already knew was coming.

He contemplated leaving a note for his brother. But when he sat down to write it, he found that words eluded him. He gave up soon enough, figuring Sam would understand what had happened. He was a smart kid, He'd get it, and maybe that would keep the younger man from coming after him.

That had been days ago, and Dean had found it much easier to fall into his role beside Crowley then he would have expected. It was natural, primitive almost. The ruler of Hell had been true to his word, Dean had power, He had command, and that suited the knew Demon fine. He found that rules no longer applied, He could do what he wanted, when he wanted and the repercussions where little to none. If something did happen, Crowley was quick to send out a clean up crew.

For the first time in a long time, Dean didn't need to think. He wanted food, it was there, drink, a bar was readily within his reach. The jobs Crowley presented him with fed his blood lust, the insatiable need of the mark. The work was familiar, He'd spent time as a reaper before and this was no different, if just a bit more violent.

Crowley made his fair share of deals, and usually the humans paid up. But every once in a while, some of them got flighty. Dean had to say, he was fairly impressed with the amount of souls Crowley actually managed to claim, and surprised by how quickly people where willing to give up everything they were. People were petty, insecure, selfish,un- remorseful, cruel, desperate. And as long as there where people in the world suffering from any one of these conditions or others, Demons would be making deals.

That was where Dean came into play, He liked to consider himself the elite task force. He sniffed out the rouge humans and brought them in to pay up.

Only once after contacting Crowley did he lay back and wonder at what he was doing. It was a betrayal, a betrayal of everything his father had ever done for them, of what he'd been taught to know and believe. He was working for the enemy team, but that was what he was now, the enemy. It wouldn't do to sit around and mope. He'd asked Sam, if he'd ever become something like this, to gank him. But he knew his brother, or who had been his brother, and Dean had realized maybe a little to late, that Sam would never be able to put a bullet through his head.

So here he was. And he was fine with it. Now, four days later, He barely gave his brother and the angel a second thought. He was a demon, He'd only had to let himself go to it.