A/N: War rocked in last week's episode.

Boys will be Boys

The scuffing of thick heels against gravel trickled into the hanger. The cold night air permeated the open hanger, yet inside he was an inferno. The raspy snarling of Rick rumbled loudly with no context. The Horseman was talking about something with no pauses or faltering over words. Famine remained quiet for once.

Rolling his shoulders, Dean closed his tired eyes. Instinct screamed at him to go outside and find out what they were planning now. But his gut cringed tightly as the after effects of killing Ruby held sway over him. The world seemed different now. He breathed in sulfur, the Pit's flames warmed him and everywhere was blood. Upon looking at the two creatures outside, he saw their true horrific faces.

Famine's hollowed out face with never ending hunger, empty eyes framed by deep black purple circles as faux frailty flickered off of Alexei's body. War was a mess. Hair drenched with red liquid; face streaked and splattered all the while holding a wolfish grin that shouldn't belong on Rick's grandfather face. Dean couldn't even begin to imagine what the others looked like.

Swallowing, he rubbed gentle at his temples, the pounding headache slowly easing away. Dean was too tired to move. The blinding wave of murdering rage left an empty husk behind for the time being. If a whole army of demons came pouring into the hanger, Dean realized he wouldn't even put up a fight. Because really, what the point of living anymore? What was the goal anymore to continue when the reason he walked this path to damnation was running right along side him?

A moan as familiar as his own pulled his normal green eyes upward. Sam's distorted face when he had peered over at his struggling brother pulsed before him for a split second. Thankfully, the broad, chiseled face focused into view. Perched on edge of a desk, Dean watched with a dead gaze as Sam painfully woke up. Tied to a chair, the younger Winchester was in an open area where it would be easy for Dean to keep an eye on him. The door leading to the basement remained open behind Sam, a quiet warning and reminder of what Dean was capable of now.

"D-Dean," coughed out Sam, his blurry eyes shadowed by long bangs.

Gentleness whispered into the still air. "Sam."

Relief spilled onto Sam's face washing away his numb mind. For a brief second everything was back to the good old days where trust was permanent and there was no need to hide secrets. Back when... Reality burned away the bright expression on Sam's face leaving behind a scorched hurt-filled glare.

"Ruby?"

Dean shifted on the desk, flicking tiny specks of dirt off his jeans. Flashes of a six-foot grave and laying the plant stakes on one of the shelves near the door fast forwarded before him. "Out back with the rest of the trash," he replied in a factual tone.

Lips tight, Sam's body shook with barely repressed grief and anger. He should have known it would come to this. Dean and Ruby were always butting heads, but he had hoped that maybe it would have stopped. Ruby had saved him, been there at his darkest hours. She made him feel powerful when every day he could only remember how he had failed his brother. Eyes narrowing to hold back the flood of tears as Ruby's final screams blared loudly in his mind, Sam found himself snarling. "Dean, you gotta stop this. Now."

Dean's face remained impassive. "How'd you find me?"

Sam pursed his lips. He couldn't say anything about Bobby. Shifting in the chair, feeling the rope scratch against his chest and arms, a dark thought sprouted in his mind. Eyes falling down, he took in the tight bindings as he moved his pinned arms behind the chair. Even his legs were tied securely to the chair. He heard an abrupt thump lightly against the beaten wooden surface of the desk. Gazing upwards, calculated eyes took in the tip of a knife as it twisted into the grain. Traveling upwards, Sam found himself locked underneath Dean's penetrating gaze as his brother absentmindedly played with the weapon. It was so Dean, minus the coldness emitting from across the small gap.

He had to be careful, for all he knew this Dean would hurt him. Sam already lost more than he could count to the demons. Like hell was he going to lose Bobby just because he couldn't handle a bit of pain. "Rick. We followed a trail of bodies." There, he should be safe for now with the partial truth.

A dead smile ghosted across Dean's face. "I was wonderin about that."

Dread trickled through Sam's arms, as he twisted his wrists against the tight rope binds. "How long have you…" he paused, not sure if this was safe ground, "been like this?"

Breaking contact, Dean stared at the bone handle, fingers twitching as they seemed to count off days. "For awhile, but if it means anything, I didn't start torturing till after Iron River."

Shock must have radiated off of Sam remembering the teenage boy he left with Dean back in the bathroom. Dean snorted quietly. Running a hand down his face, the older Winchester's hollowed eyes bore once more into Sam. "How long you been drinking demon blood?"

Sam turned his head to the side to look out into the vast hanger, rolling his shoulders in discomfort to mask his attempt at loosening the bonds. He hated this glacier calmness coming from Dean. It was unnerving not to see his brother yelling at him. Clearing his throat, Sam felt his mind being to drift towards the demon blood, trying to find ways of how to replenish his supply now that Ruby was gone.

Then a small glint caught his eye. Turning, Sam watched as the golden amulet swayed from Dean's chest. Disgust hardened within him. No. He would worry about the demon blood later; right now Dean was his number one issue. "Whatever this demon-"

A tired look befell Dean's face as he tucked the knife away. "I thought you saw."

The emphasis on the word halted all thoughts in Sam's mind. "You said…"

"I know what I said, that I would never become this…" Dean swallowed, sniffing as he fought to remain disinterested. "monster again. But things change."

"Oh really?" Hidden beneath the resentment, Sam trembled in anguish waiting for those familiar eyes now aged beyond their years to fade back into murderous black.

Gazing down at the open pit with disturbed longing, Dean ran a finger over the smooth silver ring. "I had to protect you Sam. It's my job and I couldn't do it being all broken and grieving." Eyes darted up to meet his brother's face. "You…"

Sam let his face tighten. Resentment laced his words. "What? Wouldn't understand? Come on Dean, what do you think I'm doing! Why I keep using my powers?"

"That's not the same," hissed out Dean, his anger flashing to the surface. Pushing himself off the desk, the older hunter stalked his way to the tied up figure. "I'm beyond saving, Sam, the moment I got off the rack. But you…you never were, even with the demon blood."

Shaking his head, Sam tried to reason with his lost brother. "It's not about me anymore Dean…with Lilith-"

In an explosion, Sam watched as something flipped inside Dean at the mention of the white-eyed demon's name. Throwing himself an inch from Sam's face, black smoldering eyes shimmered briefly white. "Lilith isn't your problem, Sam. She's out of your league."

Meeting the heated glare with his own, Sam matched Dean's growl with an even tone. "Not if I-"

"What? Drink more demon blood like it was Gatorade?" A hand clawed upwards curling itself on Sam's dark blue jacket. A murderous glint bore down on him. "Then let me guess, you gonna burn her out of existence like you did Alastiar?"

Hazel eyes blew wide open. "How-"

A twisted smirk curled on Dean's face. "A little bird told me." Peering endlessly into Sam's eyes, recognition pierced through the blood-rage curtain. Uncurling his fingers, Dean pushed himself away as if Sam burned him. Green swelled with guilt at the mere thought that he was an inch away from wanting to make his little brother bleed. Taking a deep breath, Dean turned his back and stared with tormented eyes out onto the hanger. "You can't take on Lilith, Sam."

"Yes I can! You just have to faith in me."

"Trust me, she's not like your average demon." Memories of a small little blond haired girl danced before him.

Sam watched as broad shoulders slumped downwards in a gesture eerily similar to when Dean would when he gave into something. Realizing his chance, Sam let sympathy fill the air. Ruby always said he had a knack for winning people over and now this was the big one here. He had to convince Dean to let him go and more importantly get rid of the demon in him. But how was he going to do that when Dean seemed immune and didn't want to be saved? Sam's throat tightened at the thought at how broken Dean truly was.

Fighting to keep his voice calm, Sam whispered softly. "I know Dean. Lilith is different but she's not invincible. Ever since Alastair, I know that I can take her down. Ruby was helping me…"

"No she wasn't," rasped out Dean, the tension building on his back. "Cause guess what Sam," turning to face him, demonic eyes were back, locking themselves on Sam. It made the younger Winchester tremble in concern at how fast and easy the transition was. How far gone was Dean? "Ruby was working for Lilith."

Disbelief flashed on Sam's face. "You're lying."

Amusement trickled lightly out of Dean's mouth. "Oh, no, you see Ruby spilled her guts…literally…telling me how Lilith had plans for you to break the final seal."

"Ruby wouldn't do that, she hates Lilith!"

Dean launched himself at Sam, the rage shimmering once more off of him like a heat wave. "You'd believe a demon."

"Look whose talking!"

Boiling rage settled into icy detachment. "Got me there, Sammy. But at least I'm not addicted to demon blood. She was poison and one day you'll thank me for ripping her apart."

"No I won't because you're not my brother anymore. Dean…wouldn't become this." He didn't know where those words came from. They just spilled out of him without hesitation. Pain flared within him. It was as if he had taken a butter knife and carved out his heart.

"And Sammy wouldn't trust a demon over his own kin."

Sam wanted to retort when quiet coughing pierced the tense silence. Dean peered over his shoulder, snapping out his irritation at being interrupted. "What?"

Standing quietly, Alexei flashed a thin smile. "Rick wants to talk to you."

"It can wait."

"No it can't."

Sam watched as Dean's left hand inched its way to the belt where the knife was stored. "I'm still itchin here for some screams, Famine."

"Well, that little knife won't do you any justice." Alexei rolled her eyes. "Listen, War just wants to show you a new toy. Maybe then we can finally call it even."

Sam felt his throat dry up not liking this interaction between his brother and the Horsemen. Dean straightened up, his face lightening in interest. Sam had seen the look on more than one occasion whenever Dad showed Dean a new gun. It seemed being a demon only enhanced Dean's curiosity. Gazing down, the harsh light sent shards across the black surface. "Don't do anything stupid."

Walking in full stride, Dean knocked his shoulder with Alexei's before making his way to where War was leaning in the doorway. Shaking her head, Alexei walked up to Sam the smile plastered on her face. "Finally. I've been meaning to talk to you."

Huffing out his own frustration, Sam sniffed his nose smugness warming him further. "You and Rick have been possessed this whole time."

"Actually," Alexei shrugged her shoulders, "We don't technically possess anyone considering the souls original Alexei and Rick were obliterated during the whole process."

"You sick-"

"Na ah," crouching down, Famine eyed Sam with a hungry stare. "You listen while I talk. See, what Ruby didn't know was that you never needed to convince us with a speech."

"No?" Bracing himself, Sam could have sworn he smell the stench of decay around her.

"Nope, you were there with your brother to prevent Alastair from killing Death. Thus that makes me indebted to you as well. Sadly, your brother is being a pain and not telling us his one desire." Annoyance frowned down on Alexei's face as she peered over her shoulder quickly at the brisk walk of the other hunter.

Dean ran a hand through his cropped hair. Grimacing at the clumps, he couldn't but think about how refreshing a shower would be. Walking up to War, he let out a loud snap filled tone. In the Pit, he had grown a reputation of being not only very professional but if interrupted, he tended to be a bit pissed. "What the hell do you want?"

"Personally, I came to pick up a certain magically sword to see if I could drown some souls in the blood of their loved ones, but that's just me."

A joking voice jerked Dean's attention to the outside, his body freezing in mid-halt. The melted face of a demon pulsated beneath the façade of spiky blond hair and clear blue eyes. Lighting up a cigarette, Nicor stood in his old meat-suit hating the freezing night air. The deep gashes of where Lilith's hellhound had slashed into him still stung but he had not given in using every method to slay one of the blasted creatures. Realizing that upsetting Lilith might not have been a good thing, Nicor sought War out. To his somewhat surprise, the very Horseman had contacted him. He arrived mere seconds later.

And while he merely wanted the sword to defend himself, Nicor couldn't help but grin widely as Dean gazed upon him with familiar black eyes. To his surprise, the new Grand Inquisitor couldn't believe to see tiny hints of white. It seemed Alastair was right. Dean had potential and whatever was happening topside was fueling that wrath and self-loathing onto a whole new level.

Jealousy swelled in him. His old mentor had to put Dean on the fast tracked didn't he. Always the favorite getting everything, spoiled rotten everyday with Alastair asking Dean if he wanted to get off. Hell, when Nicor was on the rack, Alastair never once gave him the option. It wasn't until centuries later when the old man realized that Nicor's advice on making the torture on himself more painful while on the rack was he finally released.

"Nicor."

"Dean-o."

Back inside, realization dawned on Sam. "Dean's the left field Rick warned me about."

"Yep. We, well me, like your brother, especially with what he's doing ever since he was rejoined with his missing self. War's a bit partial to you, what with your blood addiction and all. Yet, we're growing a bit tired of waiting and now we're giving you a chance."

"Oh really. I feel so loved."

"I can give you anything you want Sam in order to fulfill this debt. I can give you a limitless supply of demon blood, cure Dean of his demonic nature…kill Lilith for you."

Suspicion flashed in Sam's eyes. "Why would you kill Lilith, ain't she your boss?"

"No, Lucifer is…was." Alexei's eyes twinkled with anticipation. "Think about it Sam, I know you want to kill Lilith but Dean's losing himself fast. Give or take a few days and I don't think even he could stop himself from torturing you."

Murderous black eyes on a familiar face stole Sam's breath away. Stuttering to regain his composure, he blinked slowly at Famine. "So you want me to wish to cure Dean?"

"No silly. I'm just laying out the situation to you."

And like that a plan unfolded in Sam's mind. He could focus on killing Lilith while Alexei cured Dean. She was Famine; technically she could make it so Dean would never 'starve' for another torture session. But the thing was Dean wasn't like other demons. If anything he was like Sam now. And curing him might lead to his death or insanity or some hollow mask of his former self. No. There were too many variables on what could go wrong. But there was one certain thing. If Lilith was out of the picture, then Sam would focus solely on Dean.

No more self-sacrificing themselves to become monsters.

But the ultimate question was if he should listen to Famine's proposition. The fact that Dean kept saying no meant there was a hidden agenda somewhere. It seemed despite this fall; Dean had kept his skill at reading people.

Now it was up to Sam to figure out the bigger picture. However, the edges of the picture were getting fuzzy as the high from Ruby's blood was slowly disappearing. A new image of Lilith's head raw and bloody on a plate flickered in the background, appearing all that appetizing.

In the background, a pair of voices, one clearly Dean, rose higher and higher in a heated argument.

Curling his hands into fists, Dean slid into a defensive stance. "You get the hell out of here."

Nicor flicked the dead bud onto Dean's chest, grinning wide as a small patch of ash blossomed onto the shirt. "What? You think just because you got to torture Alastair, you can give me orders?" The playful nature dissipated as he took solid step after step forward.

On instinct, Dean backed away slightly. Terror at seeing this taunting demon ran wildly within. Smelling the intoxicating fear, Nicor flashed his pearl white teeth. "You crying?" A chuckle flew by his lips, "Baby gonna cry?"

The old goad froze Dean in mid-step. Memories of what the first student did to him, all the taunts and experiments and the laughter bleed his vision red. Straightening his shoulders, Dean snapped back. "You're the whiny brat. Boohoo on not torturing Alastair. Grow a pair, Nicor."

It was a death wish, but Dean didn't care. He did what he always did when confronted by pure evil: smirked and wise-cracked his way home.

Nicor lunged forward, relishing the full blown contact as he body slammed into Dean sending them flying into the hanger. Gripping onto the shirt, his fists flew with accuracy onto Dean's smooth face. By the third impact, the flesh cracked slightly seeping blood down onto his knuckles. The sweet smell made him laugh. "I have missed this…" Leaning down, he hissed into Dean's straining head. "Little brother."

They might not be related by blood, but the pain and suffering and all those one-on-one interactions made up for it. Nicor never acknowledged it but watching Dean stand up, those eyes so close to his own made him see for the first time the true beauty of the darkness within the hunter.

Snarling, Dean raised his left hand onto Nicor's slim shoulder, eyes staring heatedly into Nicor's white ones. "Don't." Slam with a knee to the ribs. "Ever." Right hand twisted the body sideways. "Call." Head butt broke their close proximity. "Me." A powerful shove gave the two opponents a moment of air to breath. "That."

Each hunched and panting, Alastair's two pupils stared darkly at each other the blood lust to inflict pain on one another spilling out into the room.

"I'm gonna enjoy drowning you in liquid nitrogen."

"I'm gonna enjoy ripping your lungs out."

Nothing more to say, they flew at each other fists flying in a deadly all out wrestling match. War moved into the middle of the hanger doorframe, entranced at the fight. He couldn't help but applaud himself. He didn't have to anything except get the two in the same room before stepping back and watching it all unfold. He flashed a dark joyful gaze at Alexei who was watching the fight as well.

She in turn nodded, happiness shining off her eyes. Behind her, strapped to the chair, Sam watched with alarm at the brute hostility of the two men. "Dean!"

Alexei chuckled as she watched Sam struggle against his bindings. "Easy there, tiger. Alastair's students are only getting reacquainted."

Furious words exploded out of Sam's mouth. "Reacquainted? That demon is going to kill Dean!"

"Yes he will." Stepping backwards, Famine draped her arm around Sam's broad shoulders. Face flinching in mock sympathy, Alexei flashed another cold grin. "Just think about it Sam that could be you and Dean was fighting right at this moment."

Inhaling a sharp breath, Sam glanced up at the woman before eyes falling back onto the vicious fight. He had to do something.

Nicor twisted Dean to the side, but the light-brown haired hunter hung on and used the momentum to push Nicor towards the devil's trap. Skidding on his heels, Nicor halted himself mere inches away. Sparing a glance over his shoulder, he snarled relinquishing his right hand and drove the fist hard and fast into Dean's stomach. Dean doubled-over before flying backwards as an uppercut slammed under his chin.

Falling hard on his back, Dean fought to blink back stars. Yet as the bright flashes of light faded away Nicor was above him. Straddling his chest, Nicor bent down wrapping long fingers around Dean's neck.

Licking his lips, Nicor's white eyes blazed in rapture as he squeezed down onto Dean's throat. Beneath him, Dean's wide black eyes burned in retaliation as his hands scraped, clawed and tried to push Nicor off of him.

"Now, now, Dean-o, don't fret." Leaning down till, his breath ghosted over Dean's face, the stench of sulfur burning Dean's oxygen deprived lungs. The demon's face was bruised and battered, his once kept clothes ripped and stained with blood. Below, Dean growled past a busted pair of lips, his own clothing in the same condition.

"I'm not gonna put you back on the rack, no sir-ee." Pulling away, he tightened his grip, chuckling as a gasp fell out Dean. "Nope, I'm gonna tie you to a metal post and we're going to have so much fun together, just you and me. Cause trust me, you smart pain in the rear brat, I'm going to make you own up for taking away Alastair's pain from me."

As he tightened his hold for the final time, Nicor didn't see the flash of lights till it was too late. Only when he heard the loud screeching of tires did his head jerk upwards. Before him, the demon watched with surprise as a multi-rusted car drove through the hanger slamming hard into War. The Horseman's body flew over the hood, slamming hard on the windowshield before flying off to the side.

Bright lights blinded him as the stench of burnt rubber screeched loudly in the hanger. He found himself entranced as the lights came closer and closer, barely making out the face of an old man with a baseball cap in the driver's seat. Nicor didn't even realize it when Dean took advantage. Knocking away his hands, Dean took in a deep lungful of air before grabbing Nicor's shirt and tossed them both towards the wall just as the car's zoomed by him. The sound of metal crashing lightly into a pile of boxes signaled the death of an engine pushed past her prime. The final breath of the car huffing out in a final dark cloud of fumes swept over him and Nicor as the screams of Alexei and Sam rang in the air.

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A/N: Sorry for the late update. Every time I wrote Sam and Dean's conversation it never seemed right. Out of everything, this was hard to write and just my luck, it's just the beginning. So here's hoping that it worked and didn't seem forced. Sorry once again. Free candy to everyone :)