In the Dark – Chapter Ten
Where we left off in chapter nine:
"My brother...he doesn't deserve this. He...he's a good man," Sam knew he was floundering, but desperation was thickening his voice and clouding his resolve. "He's spent his whole life saving other people. He always puts everyone else first; he's always taken care of me. What he is now...it's not him."
Cain turned, jaw set and eyes cold. " You think he's a monster."
Sam fell silent and Cain nodded. " You two have made monster hunting your life's work. And now?"
When Sam remained silent, Cain stepped forward and this time, Sam held his ground. "Tell me, Sam Winchester: If it comes down to it, and your brother is truly one of the things you hunt, what will you do?"
Sam lifted his chin and held the demon's gaze. " I won't kill my brother."
Cain leaned forward, his breath stagnant and cold.
"I did."
Sam felt Cain's eyes boring into his and had to look away. For the first time, the man's cold aloofness had given way to an expression of soul crushing pain, just for an instant. When Sam glanced up again, Cain had stepped to the window, his grizzled face once again set in stone, the moment gone.
"What you did," Sam said, pausing as his host's fists clenched. When Cain remained silent, he continued: "I don't have that kind of courage."
"Courage?" Cain threw his head back in strangled laughter. "Is that what they call it?" He turned and the anguish of centuries shone in his eyes. "I committed the worst kind of sin. I deserved the curse, the isolation and everything that comes with it."
Sam studied the ancient being in front of him, then stepped forward. "You think it should have been you."
"I know it should have been me!" Cain roared. "He was a better man that I ever was. He was seduced by the devil, by his filthy promises, and by the time I found out, it was too late."
Cain stomped past Sam into the living room, oblivious to the stricken look in Sam's eyes as he strode past. Sam held onto a rickety kitchen chair as Cain's words took his breath and made him suddenly lightheaded. Their stories, the biblical Cain and Abel, and the current day Winchesters, held too many similarities to be ignored. Their lives had been altered by pride, the lust for power, by sacrifice and death. Cain had been a man, once; his sacrifice to save his brother had condemned him to an eternity of banishment and pain. Now Dean faced that same fate through no fault of his own, other than his never ending quest to save others, to do the right thing.
He moved to the doorway, watching silently as Cain stared at a faded lithograph in his hand before replacing it reverently upon the shelf.
"I understand why you did it," Sam said. "I made a deal with Lucifer himself once, and I paid the price. But what if I told you you could do something good? That this is the right thing to do?"
"Then I would say you are a demon, Here to make some kind of demonic deal, and I would burn you where you stand." Cain replied without turning.
"I know you understand me, too," Sam said. "You understand the lengths a man will go, to save his brother."
Cain turned and studied the younger Winchester with a sad smile. "Some things cannot be undone, boy. There is a saying: The end justifies the means. That is not always the case."
"Depends on how important the prize is to the warrior." Sam paused, sensing he had already lost this battle, the only one that mattered to him. He closed his eyes in defeat, turning slowly on his heel for the door.
"Boy," Cain's voice carried across the room as Sam opened the door, and the younger Winchester turned back, unable to hide the abject disappointment in his eyes.
Cain stepped forward, studying Sam with hooded eyes. "I may have had my immortal soul burned away years ago, but I do sympathize with you. I just do not think you realize what you are asking."
"I'm asking for help to save my brother," Sam said softly. "I would do anything for him."
"I know," Cain said. "And that is why I will not help you."
Sam's breath caught in his throat as he stared at the older man. "Will not? Then you do know how to take back the Mark?"
Cain sighed and turned away, pacing back into the kitchen. "It is not the Mark that you should be concerned about. It is the Blade."
Sam frowned." Dean said you told him that, without the Mark, the Blade had no power."
"That is true." Cain settled himself into a rickety wooden chair before continuing. "If you were holding the Blade now, it would be next to useless for you as a weapon. But the Blade feeds off the power that the Mark siphons from its host. When your brother took on the Mark, he became a source of power for the First Blade. Do you understand?"
"I understand that Dean did something with that Blade that you were unable to do: he killed Abbadon." Sam said. "I know that means something to you. I think you owe him this much."
Cain rose to his feet, fury in his eyes. " What would you have me do? There is only one way to undo what your brother has done, and believe me, he would not thank me for it."
"Then tell me what to do."
Cain studied the younger Winchester with a sadness born of ages of suffering and guilt. "Very well," he said after a long moment. "I will tell you what I know. What you do with that information will be up to you." He motioned Sam to the faded sofa but remained standing by the wall as Sam slowly sat down. " Did Dean tell you what I asked of him in return for the Mark?"
"He said you wanted him to come back..."
"And kill me, yes." Cain stepped to the window, reaching up to wipe a smudge from the dusty glass.
"If I tell you what you want to know..."
Sam held his breath, finally releasing it as Cain turned to face him.
"Then I guess we will both get what we want."
Castiel stood motionless, staring down the dusty drive toward the house where his young charge had, foolishly in his opinion, gone to face down the Father of Murder. Crowley had returned, pale faced and shaken, and now stood by the Impala's trunk, sullen and silent. Castiel also remained silent, recognizing the futility of asking questions of the demon. And so, as the day faded to dusk, the angel remained vigilant, watching and waiting and feeling the all too human emotion of frustration a bit more than he knew he should.
As the last wisps of daylight slipped beneath the treeline, Castiel lifted his chin, watching the slowly approaching figure as he trudged across the field and down the dusty rutted road. He could almost sense the dejection in Sam's posture from half a mile away.
Sam lifted his eyes as he neared the car, his normally emotive face now reflecting nothing. Castiel frowned and stepped forward, but before he could speak, Sam wearily raised his hand.
"Not now, Cas," he said, reaching under his collar and pulling out a thin silver necklace. Suspended on the chain was a tarnished antique key. He slipped it over his head and motioned for Crowley to step forward.
Crowley remained by the trunk, his eyes hooded with suspicion. "That's it, Moose? You just let me go, just like that...no strings?"
"That was the deal."
Castiel studied the younger Winchester as well, stepping forward as Sam wavered unsteadily on his feet. Sam once again raised his hand to ward off the angel's help; he glanced once at the key and then motioned Crowley forward. Crowley held out his manacled hands and in a moment the cuffs slipped free.
Crowley took a moment to shake out the strangled circulation in his arms and to brush imaginary dust from his suit. "Just so you know," the demon smirked. "The next time you want to play dominatrix with me, wear leather. Flannel is such a turn off." He blinked flirtatiously at the stone faced hunter and then blinked out of sight.
Sam turned back to the Impala and eased himself into the driver's seat; Castiel rounded the car and took Sam's normal spot. He watched as Sam sat silently, staring back down the twilight shrouded road that led to Cain's house. Finally he could wait no longer to ask:
"Did you get the answers you were seeking?"
"Yes...and no."
Castiel tilted his head, his confusion obvious. "Dean says that sometimes I do not ask the proper questions. What I meant to ask..."
"I know what you're asking, Cas." Sam turned the Impala away from the dusty road and pointed it back toward the highway. "I know what we have to do now. And I...well, Dean... is going to need your help to make it work."
"I will do whatever you require of me," Castiel said.
"You might feel differently once I tell you what we have to do." Sam glanced over at the angel, who sat ramrod straight like the soldier he was and had always been. "I'll fill you in on the way home."