"Yeah…I'm an hour away. I will be there shortly."
Sam hung up the phone and allowed himself to sink to the ground, his back to the impala. He was too shaky to drive for the moment, and so he didn't even try. He coughed, trying to clear the pungent smell of smoke from his nose, though it was in the air, and on his clothes, and it was unlikely he'd get away from it any time soon.
Crowley had actually called him and warned him. The king of hell admitted Dean had come to him, but had disappeared. Sam was confused at first why Crowley would volunteer this information, but now he understood. Crowley was scared of Dean.
When he heard about the massacre, he knew. Somewhere deep down inside, he had the sinking realization, and he just knew it was his brother's doing. He had read every scrap of information the Men of Letters had on Cain, every single slaughter, bloodbath, and act of butchery they had recorded. This wasn't yet on that scale, but still, he knew.
He had the entire journey to Massachusetts to prepare himself for what he was about to walk into, but he didn't think he would have taken it any better even if he had a month to steel his nerves.
The Cape Cod town Sam found himself currently sitting on the outskirts of had a population of slightly more than 5,000 men, women and children. Or at least it had, last week. Today, it was just about half that.
He had been forced to call on Gadreel for help even getting access to this place. The federal response to this disaster had been far too tight to get in with his normal aliases. The angel had begged a favor with a reaper. Tessa now stood a few yards away, looking back the way they had come from, casually observing the still rising smoke.
Sam had allowed her to bring him into the middle of the carnage. The first bodies had shocked him, the brutality with which they had been killed. This wasn't just a quick flick of the knife, these people were torn apart. It had only gotten worse from there.
The few cameras that had been recovered so clearly showed his brother ripping through one after another. Blinking forward with the speed and efficiency that only a demon could achieve. They showed police unleashing everything they had, watching it roll off the demon, before he came for them too. Almost every place he didn't clear out of bodies was set ablaze as the knight of hell continued his blood thirsty warpath from the bay to the sea.
Sam considered it lucky, grimly, that at least most of the victims had burned to death instead of meeting his brother face to face.
Now there was a small city of FEMA tents lined with refrigerated trucks. Just holding the burnt and mutilated corpses of the dead to await identification in the vain hope of bringing some sort of hollow closure to hundreds of families.
"Sam I must return to help the others."
"There are…" Sam swallowed. "There are still…" Still a backlog of people's spirits, waiting for guidance into the afterlife?
Tessa nodded. "I am sorry." She said softly. Her last thought before she left was of sitting in a hospital, talking Dean through letting go of the living world for the good of everyone. She wondered how different the world would be if she had succeeded.
Sam watched her go, leaning his head back against the cool metal of the car and attempting to cling to that detached numbness he had just barely managed to achieve while in the middle of a field of smoldering bodies and blood.
Finally after what felt like days, the hunter dragged himself to his feet, pulling himself into the car. He started her and turned back away from the cape, heading towards the coordinates Cas' gps were telling him to go.
.
When he pulled up outside the derelict hotel, he found Cas waiting outside, sitting on the ground with his back to a planter. Sam felt a flutter of worry, looking over his disheveled appearance. The angel was covered in dirt, debris, and more than a little blood, though it appeared whatever injury had caused it was healed.
Cas was wearing his coat, but underneath, where his white shirt usually was, Sam recognized one of Dean's old worn Metallica shirts, and he wondered where the angel had taken that from.
He hurried his step a bit, his concern for the shell-shocked angel outweighing some of his own numbness and horror. "Cas, are you alright?"
Castiel seemed to notice his own appearance for the first time, and absently started to try and brush some of the plaster from his skin. "Yes." He said simply.
"What happened?"
"Dean found me three days ago, in New York."
Sam paled, wondering if that was right after or right before he had gone on a rampage through a vacation town. "Three days?"
"He warded the hotel. It kept my grace suppressed, and prevented me from exiting." He explained slowly, his head still seeming miles away from the conversation.
"Cas… what happened?" Sam pressed again.
"Hannah is dead." Cas said grimly. "As well as more than half a dozen of Metatron's most loyal." He shook his head. "Dean took Hannah's grace to keep me alive. The rest he tortured for information."
"Information on what?"
"He said he heard a rumor. That my grace was out there. That Metatron had not used all of it for the spell."
"And?"
"He was right. He found it, and he fed it to me. I am restored."
Sam thought that over. Dean had saved Cas. That instinct remained through everything else the mark took from him. It was…. Interesting. But Sam didn't think it really added up to mean anything. "Where is he?"
"In the basement. We have to move slowly, the building is quite unstable."
Unstable was an understatement in Sam's opinion. Walking through the glass doors, the inside was a wreck. He followed Cas to a door leading down the dusty steps into the basement. There, sitting casually in a devils trap of blood was his brother.
Sam took in the sight before him. Dean was almost as much a mess as Cas, he assumed the fight to get him into a trap had been part of the reason the hotel was in such disarray. The clothes Dean wore now were also a little worse for wear, though much like Cas' they seemed better than he himself looked. He glanced over at the duffel and boots outside the circle, and then up at the first blade sitting on the counter.
"Ah, Samuel. Nice of you to join us."
"It's Sam." He replied, no real emotion in his voice.
"Cold. What has your panties in a twist?"
"You know how this is going to go." Sam continued flatly. He stepped forward, clapping the demon-proof cuffs over Dean's wrists. Once he was secured, he held Dean up as Cas leaned in to scrape away enough of the trap to let the demon walk free. He yanked his brother forward, starting to drag him towards the stairs. "We have a long drive ahead of us, so it'll go faster if you just cooperate."
Dean tensed, gearing up to throw his weight into his brother, try to push him off balance, but Cas had been ready. Another solid blow knocked the demon out cold again.
Sam reacted with surprise, but Cas just leaned down and gathered Dean into his arms, his expression detached, and his posture defeated. Sam hesitated for just a moment before turning to pick up Dean's duffel, boots, and the first blade. He followed the angel's path out of the hotel.
Crowley met them by the car, having enough sense not to say anything as Cas settled Dean into the backseat of the impala. He exchanged a few brief words with Sam before taking the first blade and leaving, with the promise of hiding it far away.
Sam took one more trip inside to gather up the angelic handcuffs and shackles, not feeling comfortable just leaving them down there. When he returned to the car, Cas had slid into the backseat, the demonic hunter now resting back against his chest. He frowned, watching the angel's arms wrap protectively around him. He felt more comfortable with that, knowing that if Dean woke and tried to struggle, he'd be with someone fully able to restrain him.
Dean finally woke only two hours into their trip, more than a little annoyed with the situation he found himself in. He had tried sniping at both of them, but he found both of them too worn out to rise to the bait. Eventually he resigned himself to watching the rest of Massachusetts give way into New York.
Castiel was surprised when the hunter seemed to give up, losing the tension and just leaning back against his chest. He felt a stir of emotions under the carefully cultivated indifference, and he fought the urge to hold Dean closer. This still wasn't Dean. It was just a shadow of the former hunter. One they were going to cure soon.
Sam managed to make it almost out of New York again before the road started to blur dangerously enough he had to stop.
Cas offered to drive, slipping out of the car and dragging Dean with him. The older Winchester was pushed into the passenger side of the car before the angel slipped behind the wheel. Sam ended up in the back, propping up his bag and managing to find rest quickly after they got moving again.
"Castiel. You cannot think this is going to work." Dean started, growing agitated with the continued silence, especially as the scenery faded into the darkness of night and he no longer had anything to focus on.
"It will work."
"I don't want to be cured."
"Tough shit."
Dean unsuccessfully tried to bite back a grin. "You're starting to sound like me."
Cas didn't comment, keeping his focus on the road.
"You know, it's not very sportsmanlike to cold-cock a man right after sex."
"I'll keep that in mind." The angel replied absently.
"Leaving the clothes was a nice touch. Very gentlemanly of you to protect my modesty." He threw a glance backwards, not sure if the younger hunter was sleeping or not. "Or were you just trying to hide your shame from my brother?"
"I don't care if Sam knows. I only care about getting you to the bunker and starting the cure."
"So, is he opening up a vein, or are you going to bleed Kevin for me?"
Cas didn't answer, keeping his focus on the road. He attempted to tune the hunter out as he continued to hound him with questions and snide remarks.
When Sam woke it was daylight again. He sat up, feeling an intense rush of alarm as his brother was nowhere to be seen. "Cas-"
"He's in the trunk." Cas answered flatly.
"Oh."
"We just passed South Bend." The angel informed him, providing no further information on why.
"Indiana?" He got the nod from Cas. "Alright. I'll warn Kevin we're coming."
.
The prophet opened the door to meet them when he heard them pull into the garage. Sam glared at him when he got out of the car. "I thought I told you to clear out."
"I sent my mom to the hotel. I just…" He looked at Sam imploringly. "Dean is my friend… I want to be here. To help."
"There is nothing you can do." The hunter said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. The trip had his nerves more than a little fried, and he knew it wasn't Kevin's fault.
"Then I just want to be here for him." He said softly.
Sam sighed, his posture deflating. "Fine. Help open the doors while we drag him down there." He relented.
Kevin nodded, watching as Cas opened the back of the impala, leaning in and grabbing Dean, dragging him out and to his feet.
Dean blinked under the sudden harsh light. "Are you fucking kidding me with that shit?" He growled, more than a little angry at his seventeen hour trip in the trunk.
"I warned you what would happen if you continued to be problematic." The angel replied, starting to drag Dean forward.
The hunter struggled half heatedly, knowing it was pointless to try and escape now, but not willing to go easily either.
After locking him down in the dungeon, the hunter, angel, and prophet collapsed in the library, trying to catch their breath and begin the lengthy struggle to process the events so far.
Sam had been avoiding talking to Cas. He spent the entire ride with his headphones in, trying to keep his mind focused on a series of podcasts, and ignore the occasional kicks and yells from the back. Cas for his part had insisted on driving the rest of the way home, the task keeping his mind off Dean more effectively than conversation could.
The hunter poured himself a glass of whiskey, hesitating before pouring another and sliding it over to Cas.
Kevin on the other hand had just been sitting and waiting for them to come back. "Do you think this demon cure will work on him?" He asked, breaking the tense silence.
"The notes don't say anything about it not working. We thought it would cure Abaddon and she was a knight." Sam replied.
"But she didn't have the mark of Cain." Kevin mused.
"Yeah well. We don't exactly have a better plan."
Kevin looked up and made eye contact with Sam. "Was it him?"
"Kevin…"
"It's still all over the news. I've been watching it. I know you went out there to check it out. It was him, wasn't it?"
Cas looked over, fresh confusion settling into his expression. "Was what him?"
Sam sighed, throwing Kevin a mild glare. He had been trying to avoid talking to Cas about this.
"Eastham, Massachusetts." Sam said softly. "Three days ago Dean all but destroyed it."
Cas paled. He remembered Dean coming back that night. Soaked with blood, reeking of iron and smoke. "Destroyed?"
"They're still finding bodies, but it looks like almost 2,500 people died, Cas." Sam said softly.
"They got most of the fires out." Kevin tried, feeling like he had nothing useful to add to the conversation. "They do keep finding some survivors."
"Great." Sam muttered.
Cas looked to the younger Winchester. "He just-?"
"Tore through maybe a hundred or so with the knife. The rest just didn't manage to escape the fires. It's kind of a choke point. No one could get out, and no one could get in to help."
"Not that they could have done much." Kevin said softly.
"No." Sam agreed.
Castiel stood abruptly, swaying slightly in place as his head spun with the new information. "I… I need some air." He managed to stammer out, lamely. He made a hasty retreat, suddenly finding the bunker walls confining. He headed for the surface.
Kevin watched the angel all but run from the room. He sighed, turning back to Sam. "So what now?"
"Tomorrow I stop by the hospital, and we bring Dean back to us."
So I decided that this whole mark of Cain demon problem should be amped up a bit. Obviously. Stay tuned for some de-dean-demonization! Which also. I think should be amped up a bit.