Thank you so much Jenjoremy for beta'ing this for me and all the little extras you do. Thank you Gredelina1 for all your help. Thank you all for reading and reviewing.

Chapter Thirteen

Bobby was a little concerned.

Despite the fact he'd said he'd return, Sam didn't arrive the next morning, or even that afternoon. Bobby had noticed that Sam had been spending less and less time with them lately, and he'd been almost expecting him to skip a whole day for a while, but Dean was worried. He spent the morning in the basement, taking Sam's place at the punchbag, but by afternoon that ceased to distract him. By evening he was standing beside Bobby at the counter, staring out the window as Bobby prepared their dinner.

Strangely, Castiel seemed concerned, too. Bobby thought he would have enjoyed the break from Sam and the tension he was obviously feeling when he was there. Things between the two of them were strained all the time. Castiel seemed determined to watch Sam for any signs of something being wrong, and Sam was more than aware of and pissed at the attention. Bobby understood both sides. Sam was doing things that worried him, like taking the Mark, but he also knew Sam. He was hurting without Lucifer, and that was causing him to shut down, but he wasn't becoming what Castiel seemed so scared of.

Dean turned away from the window and picked his phone up from the table. Sam hadn't answered the last ten times they'd called, but Bobby supposed there was no harm in trying again.

In a perfect world, Sam wouldn't be there because he was catching up on the sleep he'd so obviously been missing for the past couple weeks. It wasn't a perfect world though, it never was for them, which probably meant Sam was somewhere drowning his sorrows in private.

"Sam, call me when you get this. I'm worried," Dean said, then set the phone down again.

Bobby took three bowls from the cupboard and divided the pan of stew among them. "Come eat," he said.

Castiel came to the counter and piled a plate with bread as Bobby put the bowls down at each setting. Castiel took his place beside Bobby and they both waited pointedly for Dean to sit.

"I think I'll go check on him," Dean said.

"He's fine, Dean," Bobby said.

Dean scowled. "You know that for a fact, do you?"

Bobby swallowed down his annoyance, understanding that Dean was worried and it wasn't his fault he was acting like a moody teen.

"Eat and then we'll all go," he said.

Dean sighed heavily and sank into his seat. He picked up his spoon and began to probe at his stew with a disgruntled expression. Knowing Dean was going to eat even less if he was being watched, Bobby concentrated on his own food.

They ate quietly for a while and then Dean's phone crackled to life. He snatched it up, but it wasn't ringing. It was an alert coming through on the police scanner app he had. Bobby didn't pay it any attention until a tensed voice spoke and Dean gasped.

"We have a Code 10-45D on Jefferson Street. Requesting back-up. We need…"

Bobby didn't hear the rest of the words as Dean was lurching to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor.

Bobby got to his feet, too, and grabbed his jacket from the hook. "Dean…" He wasn't sure what else to say.

"What?" Castiel asked. "What does it mean?"

"They've got a body," Bobby said and swallowed hard down the nausea. "Near Sam's motel."

Dean was already halfway out of the door.

Castiel got to his feet, too. "We have no reason to believe it's Sam," he said reasonably.

Dean ignored him and raced outside, pounding down the steps to the Impala.

"No we don't," Bobby agreed. "But experience with these boys has taught me one thing—if there's a crisis in the area, they're usually involved."

He rushed out of the house and threw himself into the car, Castiel coming hot on his heels. Before the doors were even closed, Dean had the wheels skidding as he drove away from the house.

He handed Bobby the phone and snapped, "Call him!"

Bobby dialed and listened as it rang through to voicemail. "Sam, call us. It's important."

He lowered the phone and said into the tense air, "He could be sleeping."

Dean shook his head. "Call again!"

The one positive Bobby could think of as he dialed again and again was the fact no one answered. No cop or EMT at the scene had stopped the annoying ringing.

"Slow it down a little," Bobby said as they reached the street where the motel was.

"What?" Dean barked.

"It's going to be crawling with cops," Bobby said. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves. Slow it down."

Dean allowed the speed to drop a little, but Bobby could see it was causing him even more stress.

The revolving bulbs of cop cars lit the street a couple stores away from the motel. Bobby saw Jody Mills and her deputy standing beside the body sprawled on the ground.

"It's not Sam," Castiel said, peering out of his window. "It's a woman."

Bobby didn't realize how scared he was until he heard Castiel confirm what he had seen. His quick glimpse told him that the body was smaller than Sam and long blonde hair fanned around her head.

"You sure?" Dean asked.

"Certain," Castiel said.

"Pull around back," Bobby said.

Dean looked tense as he pulled around back and parked in front of Sam's room. The Chevelle was there, but the windows of the room were dark.

"Sleeping," Castiel said, satisfied.

Bobby wasn't so sure.

They climbed out of the car and Dean rushed to the door. He knocked hard twice, but there was no sound of movement inside.

Dean pulled his lock pick out of his pocket and bent to the door. He cursed as he worked it, breathing out a soft sigh when the lock clicked. He straightened and opened the door and peered inside, seeming calmer now. "Sammy?"

They walked into the dark room. Bobby heard the shower running, and felt relief as he understood why Sam wasn't opening the door or answering his phone. There was a click and light flooded the room as Castiel flipped the switch. Bobby's heart seemed to fill his throat. In front of them was a blood-spattered boot, a little further was another, and just outside the bathroom door was a blood-soaked shirt. On the bed was the bloodied First Blade.

"Shit," he breathed.

"Sam!" Dean's voice was a panicked bellow. He kicked at the bathroom door and it flew open. Bobby rushed after him into the small room. Sam was at least upright. He was standing in the tub, half under the flow of water from the overhead shower. The water pooled around his bare feet was tainted red where the blood was streaking down from his bare chest to the waistband of his soaked jeans. His forehead was pressed against the white tile. Though his hair was out of the flow of water, it was damp with thick liquid that dripped red down his shoulders. His face was smeared with blood, too. Bobby took it all in within the moment he entered the room, and then he grabbed a towel from the hook by the basin and rushed forward.

Dean had Sam by the shoulders and was pulling him back from the flow of water, his brother's name on his lips. "Sam! Sammy! Jesus, where's all this blood coming from?"

Bobby scanned him but could see no wound that would be causing so much bleeding. He thought perhaps it was concealed by his hair. "It's okay, Son," he said. "We're here now. Where are you hurt?"

"Not hurt," Sam said dully.

"You might not be feeling it, but you are," Dean said. "Where did they get you?"

Sam allowed Dean to manipulate him so he was sitting on the edge of the bath. Bobby rushed forward and ran his hands over Sam's head, his fingers tangling in his wet and snarled hair.

Sam bore it for a second and then pulled back. "I'm not hurt."

"Sammy, you really are," Dean said in a worried voice.

"It's not my blood," he said in a dead voice.

Bobby took an automatic step back. "What did you do?"

Sam smiled wryly at his reaction. "I killed a someone."

"The woman down the street?" Dean guessed, his tone inflectionless.

Sam nodded. "Yeah."

"What the hell happened?" Bobby asked.

"She was a demon that came after me," Sam said. "I guess she was pissed because I keep killing her friends."

It all clicked into place in Bobby's mind. The way the demons were all found in the states around Sioux Falls, within a day's drive; the way Sam was coming to them at odd times, exhausted. "It hasn't been Metatron killing the demons," he said. "It's you."

"Yeah."

Dean frowned. "You've been hunting the demons?"

"I had to," Sam said.

"Why?" Dean asked plaintively.

"The Blade needed it. It's what I have to do."

Bobby's mind reeled back through the years to a dark day in which Sam howled with pain from the panic room while he and Dean got drunk in the library. They had been stepping in to save Sam from himself when he had become addicted to the evil of demon blood. Dean had been convinced that it was the only way to save Sam from going darkside on them. He had almost been right. Sam had gotten free and killed Lilith, kickstarting the apocalypse. They hadn't lost him—that had come later—but Sam had been changed by it. It had been Lucifer that had cured that darkness in him—at least that was what they thought. It seemed the darkness was rearing its head again now, and there was no Lucifer to bring him back.

"Clean yourself up," he said gruffly. "The cops are all over the place. If they come here, you need to be ready and thinking fast."

Sam nodded and stood again.

Bobby tugged on Dean's arm and the younger man allowed himself to be led out into the bedroom again. He fetched Sam clean clothes and carried them to the bathroom. When he came out, he was pale and shocky looking. Bobby directed him to the chair and Dean obeyed without a word.

Bobby closed the bathroom door and said, "Okay, we need to talk."

Dean's head was pounding and he felt sick. The adrenaline of seeing his brother covered in blood, believing that he was mortally wounded, was still rushing through him, making his shirt stick to him with sweat. He ran a hand over his face and wasn't surprised that it was shaking.

"You hear what happened in there?" Bobby asked Castiel.

"Yes," Castiel said solemnly. "He has been killing."

Bobby nodded.

Castiel closed his eyes and his expression was strained. "We need to act now."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "We have to help him."

"That's not what I meant," Castiel said. "We need to act to help the world."

Dean frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I don't think you understand the direness of this situation,"

"Explain it to me then," Dean said.

"Do you remember Lilith?"

Dean glared at him. "Do I remember the bitch that summoned the hounds to kill me and drag my soul to Hell? Yeah, that's not the kind of thing you just forget, Cas. I remember every second of it. The seals breaking? I remember your dick brothers letting it happen, wanting it to happen so they could have their prize fight. I remember…"

"You remember Sam killing Lilith and starting the apocalypse," Castiel interjected.

Dean glowered at him. Did he seriously believe that was something that would be forgotten? He knew what Sam had done, just as Sam did. He also knew that the world had been saved by his brother. He had gone to Lucifer when he was still the enemy to save Dean, and he had shown Lucifer there were things to value in humanity. He had loved Lucifer and the angel loved him in return. Because of what Sam had done and risked, the apocalypse had been averted.

"Yes," he said darkly. "You got a point or are you just piling on the guilt for all the shit we've done?"

"My point is Lilith," Castiel said. "Other than Lucifer, she was the most dangerous opponent you've ever faced. She was powerful and cruel. Now, imagine her with a vendetta and an age-old weapon."

"You're saying Sam is a demon?" Bobby asked, sounding stunned.

"No. I am saying that he is as dangerous as one though."

Dean's hands fisted. "Sam isn't dangerous!"

"He is," Castiel argued. "Really, Dean, didn't you see enough in that bathroom to know that, too?"

"No. I didn't." He looked at Bobby, expecting to see support there, but Bobby looked thoughtful. "What the hell?" he said angrily.

"Can he do it?" Bobby asked. "Get the information from Metatron, I mean. Will he be able to get Lucifer back and kill that dick angel?"

"I have no doubt he will get the information we need from him," Castiel said. "And he will kill him for his crimes. I do not know whether he would be able to stop there though."

"What do you mean?" Bobby asked.

"You heard what he said: The Blade needed it. The Mark feeds on murder and Sam has been gorging it and the Blade on blood. Think of all the bodies that have been found. Each kill has strengthened the bond between it and Sam. They are even more tangled now than ever before."

"He's been killing demons though," Dean said. "Not people."

"Do not forget the people they were possessing," Castiel said. "They died, too."

"We've already talked about this. I've also killed meat suits by killing a demon. Does that mean I am evil?"

"I never said he was evil," Castiel said. "Sam is my friend. He's my family, too."

"Doesn't sound like it lately," Dean snapped. "You've been on his ass for weeks. Family doesn't do that."

"Nor do they ignore the truth being bellowed at them. You can see how far Sam has fallen as well as I can. You just don't want to accept it. The fact is that Sam is under the influence of the Mark and the Blade. He is killing demons now. What will happen when that's no longer enough?"

Dean lurched to his feet and advanced on him. "Sam is not a murderer."

"Yet," Castiel said, holding his place. "I don't want to say this any more than you want to hear it, but we need a contingency plan in place."

"Contingency?" Bobby said, sounding stunned. "Are you talking about killing Sam?"

"I don't want to," Castiel said. "This hurts me as much as it hurts you both. I love Sam, too. But we have to decide which is the greater evil: letting Sam live, allowing him to be changed even more, or letting him go."

Dean turned away, knowing if he continued to look at Castiel he would punch him. That he would dare to say these things about Sam, as if it was really an option, made him furious. Castiel was supposed to be Sam's family, and he said he loved him, but here he was, talking about putting him down like a dog. Sam was Dean's brother. There would never be an evil in him great enough for Dean to allow that to happen.

"I know this is hard for you, Dean…" he started.

Dean rounded on him. "Hard? It's not hard; it's impossible! And it's never going to happen. I will kill you before I let you touch him. Understand?"

"Dean!" Bobby scolded.

"No! Sam is my brother and I will kill anyone that tries to hurt him."

"He won't be your brother though," Castiel said sadly. "He will be something you will need to hunt."

Dean remembered a conversation long ago he'd had with Castiel. 'He would become the next creature that you would feel compelled to kill.'

"I've heard that before, Cas," he said darkly. "And it was bullshit then, too."

Castiel opened his mouth to speak and Dean advanced on him, his hands fisted at his sides. Bobby quickly stepped between them.

"Okay, calm down," he said.

"Do you hear what he's saying?" Dean asked. "He wants to kill Sam!"

"I don't want to, I just…"

"I swear to God, Cas, you better shut your mouth!" Dean growled.

"We're not killing Sam," Bobby said. "But Cas has at least one point. Sam is changing. He's stronger now, more than can be explained by all the workouts he's doing. He is darker. I know he's hurting without Lucifer, but it can't all be explained away as that. This Mark is changing him. He's killing. They're demons, I know, but it's still killing. And he was hiding it from us."

"He didn't want to deal with his crap," Dean spat, glaring at Castiel around Bobby's shoulder.

Bobby shook his head. "It's more than that, and you know it. We need to do something."

"You want to kill him!" Dean accused.

"No!" Bobby said. "Never in life. He's my boy. I want to help him."

Dean snorted. "What are you thinking? We should lock him in the panic room again maybe? That went so well last time. He managed to bust his way out."

Castiel looked as if he was going to speak, but he snapped his mouth shut again.

"I don't know," Bobby said. "We have to do something."

"We need to take away the Blade," Castiel said, his eyes falling on the bloodied weapon on the bed. "He can't be allowed to wield it anymore."

The bathroom door was flung open and Sam was revealed on the threshold. He was dressed in the clean jeans Dean had brought him, but his chest was still bare and his hair wet. He looked furious, almost murderous. Dean hadn't even noticed the shower shutting off over the sound of their argument.

"You think you can take it away?" Sam snarled, his lips curling back like an animal. "You think I would actually let you do that?"

"Yes," Castiel said. "I think you will because you see what this is doing to you."

Sam strode forward, shoving Bobby aside as he tried to step between them, and grabbed Castiel around the throat. He slammed him into the wall and put his arm across Castiel's chest, pinning him in place. "It is doing nothing to me!" he growled. "I am killing demons, that's all! I'm not a murderer or whatever other label you're trying to pin on me to make yourself feel big again."

"Sam!" Castiel rasped, his breath constricted by the pressure against his chest.

"You were a mighty angel of the Lord, and now you're a pathetic human. You're less even than the rest of us, because you have no idea what you are anymore. That's got to be a real downer."

Castiel shook his head, seemingly unable to find the air to talk.

Dean grabbed Sam's arm and tried to wrench it back. He managed to move it enough for Castiel to grab a lungful of air, but he couldn't pull him off completely. Even when Bobby joined him, they couldn't get him back far enough to release Castiel.

"You think you can kill me?" Sam asked. "You don't stand a chance. Dean won't need to be a part of it if you try, because I will shove that Blade into you so deep that what the Leviathan did to you will feel like a massage."

Dean knew he had to act before Sam really hurt him, so he stepped around so he was facing Sam, still trying to hold him away from Castiel. "No one is going to hurt you, Sam. He was just running his mouth. He didn't mean it."

"He meant it," Sam growled. "He is deluded though. I am not giving up that Blade for anything."

"Look at yourself," Castiel said quietly. "Look what you have become."

Sam pushed forward, elbowing Dean out of the way and cutting off Castiel's air again. "I have become nothing!"

"Sam," Dean begged. "Let him go."

"Look at yourself!" Bobby barked. "You're going to kill him if you don't stop. Is this the man Lucifer loves? What would he think if he could see you? Just what kind of man is it he's coming back to?"

Dean saw the exact moment the words penetrated Sam, as his face slackened and the force with which he was pinning Castiel fell away. Castiel skidded along the wall away from him and massaged his chest, drawing heaving breaths.

Sam turned away and faced the wall. Dean hurried to his side, leaving Bobby to take care of Castiel, and laid a hand on Sam's chest. He felt Sam's shallow breaths and racing heart against his palm.

"Take it easy. Everyone is okay."

"Lucifer," Sam said mournfully.

"It's okay," Dean said quickly. "Lucifer will be fine, too."

Sam looked at him as if he was staring right through him.

"Sam?" he said, worried.

Sam drew a breath and raked a hand over his face and through his damp hair. Dean could see the fear in his eyes, and knew it was for Lucifer. Sam was terrified at the idea that he had lost Lucifer. Bobby had said the only thing that had a chance of reaching him, and it had worked.

Dean told himself Sam wouldn't have really killed Castiel, but he couldn't convince himself totally. It seemed Castiel had been right in part. Not that Sam should die, that would never be true, but that he was changed.

"What do I do?" Sam asked, now staring into Dean's eyes with desperation.

Dean knew it was his chance to save his brother, and he forced his voice to be steady and firm as he said, "Give up the Blade. At least until we find Metatron."

A flicker of anger crossed Sam's face, but he quickly smoothed it away. "Okay."

"And come home," Bobby said behind him.

"I am home," Sam said. "This is our home."

"It's not," Dean said gently. "It's not Lucifer's. You are his home. Wherever you are, he's happy. You can't stay here alone anymore. Come back with us so we can help you."

Sam looked torn as his eyes roved the room, seeing their combined belongings spread around: the photographs of them both tacked to the wall, a painting of a sunset over the ocean on a white sandy beach, Lucifer's shirt on the bed—had Sam slept better with it close to him?

"Please, Sam," he said.

Sam nodded. "Okay."

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "Bobby, you and Cas go back. Me and Sam will bring what he needs and follow you." He looked pointedly at the Blade on the bed.

Bobby reached out a tentative hand and lifted the Blade. "You sure about this, Sam?" he asked, seemingly wary of triggering Sam's anger.

"Take it away," Sam said tonelessly.

Bobby put it in an empty duffel that was on the table and walked to the door. "C'mon, Cas."

Castiel cast Sam a wary look and then followed Bobby out of the room. The door clicked closed behind him and Sam let out a deep breath and pulled his duffel out from under the bed. He packed Lucifer's shirt first and then began to gather the other belongings dotted around.

"You're doing the right thing, Sammy," Dean said. "It's going to be okay."

"Castiel doesn't think so," Sam said.

"He's just scared for you. He cares."

"No," Sam said, a bite of anger in his voice. "He doesn't care. He's not scared for me. He's scared of me. It's different."

"He's family," Dean said, as if that was the ultimate cure-all for their argument and Sam's attack.

Sam paused with a hoodie in his hands and looked at Dean. "No, he's not. You and Lucifer, Bobby, you're family. Castiel is nothing to me."

Dean sucked in a breath. Sam couldn't have shocked him more if he'd announced he was leaving Lucifer. They were family. They had been for years. But there was no question in Sam's mind. Castiel wasn't. He had gone too far in Sam's eyes, and what they'd shared before was ruined.

Dean hoped Castiel never knew.

So… That was a tough scene to write. Sam is just starting to tap into his darker side now. There's more to come.

Thoughts on Castiel anyone? Is he the one thinking clearly or is he just being a dick?

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx