Author's Note: I'm very proud of this chapter. There's a lot packed in here, but I think it reads well, finally. Let me know what you think in reviews! They make me SQQQUEEEE!
I don't own Supernatural.
***Castiel POV***
August 9, Daytime
The next few days were highly eventful for Castiel. Hannah, an angel who had been vital to overthrowing Metatron, showed up asking for Castiel's help tracking down a couple of stray angels. It had been a disaster, but Castiel felt as though Hannah was at least starting to see why humans were so special.
When his phone rang again and it was Sam, he looked at it with trepidation.
"You need to get to Beulah, North Dakota – now," Sam said when he finally answered.
"I do?"
"Yes. Ember and Dean were there, with Crowley. We've got to pick up their trail."
"Good. Great," said Castiel. He was happy there was news about Dean and Ember, but he was also so tired. Then there was Hannah, and explaining to her about Ember and Dean was going to add another complication.
"Yeah, um...not so much. Cas... Dean's a demon. And if Ember is with him I think… I think they both must be."
Castiel's breath seemed stolen from him. He thought back to Ember's pride in her ability to control her demon side. "She'll be really upset about the 13 humans she killed, and how close she got to going 'dark side'"… "Castiel, I may be a half-demon, but I'm pretty sure I'm more righteous than you today..." Sam had told him that Ember was influenced by the Mark's influence on Dean, but he still didn't understand how Dean had gone from apparently dead to being a demon. "Dean's a demon? How?"
"The Mark," said Sam. "I-I guess it -it just messed him up. I don't know."
"That is a vast understatement," said Castiel.
"Right. Now, Cas, listen. I know you're not feeling so hot, but this is kind of an 'all hands on deck' situation here, so..."
Castiel understood. "So... I'll meet you there."
***Dean POV***
August 9, Evening
Dean walked up to the large house, thinking over his conversation with Crowley. "The fact is...you need to kill now. Not want to, not choose to -need to. Face it, darling. You're an addict. Death is your drug. And you're gonna spend the rest of your life chasing that dragon. I'm here to facilitate. Look...You're going to snap eventually. The anger, the bloodlust is gonna build up in you until you can't take it anymore, and then... So, the question is, do you want to spike a civilian or someone who has it coming? Like...Mindy Morris. Caring mother... Loving wife... Cheating trollop. After her husband, Lester, discovered Mindy's liaison amoureuse, heated words were exchanged. In the end, Mindy wanted a divorce... And 50% of everything. But Lester…"
Lester wanted Mindy dead, and he was willing to sell his soul for it. Sam had talked Lester into it when he had been fishing for information from crossroads demons, Dean knew. Lester, and Barry, too.
The part of Dean that was not yet full demon had a lot of reservations about this. He had never killed an innocent before, not on purpose. The demon part of Dean, however – the part that held sway over Ember – didn't really care.
Ember seemed to have no reservations about it. Dean wondered at how well she had taken to her new demonic nature, given how hard she had fought against it before. He supposed it was one of the things that he used to care about, before they both "broke bad." The thought made him smile. Freedom.
Suddenly Dean noticed a silver car pulling up to the house. What the hell was Lester doing here? Was he that much of an idiot, to show up while his wife was supposed to be killed? Well, he did sell his soul…
"Hey! Hey!" Lester yelled as Dean slid into his car.
"Let me guess - Lester?" Dean asked.
"I...Who are you?"
Dean dropped his disguise and allowed his normal demon eyes to show. "Who do you think?"
Lester reacted with surprise. "Whoa. Ohh!"
"Ohh," Dean mocked. "What the hell are you doing here, man?"
"Well, my contact... Yeah, he, uh - he told me that, uh, this was happening, so I just wanted to come down and make sure it gets done right."
Truly, this man was an idiot. "Ah. 'Cause you're the expert, huh? Listen -and this is murder 101 -when you hire someone to kill your wife, you don't want to be around when the hit goes down. It's called an alibi."
"Yeah, I know what an alibi is. I watch 'Franklin & Bash'."
Seriously? "Super. Listen, you sold your soul for this crap, so –"
"It's not crap," Lester replied, tearing up. "It's my life. And she flushed it down the toilet."
Dean's patience was waning. "Les... I'm gonna say something to you. I need you to really listen to me. You're a loser. Your lady in there - she's a North Dakota 8. You're a 4 1/2, Max. Now, I don't blame her for stepping out - especially if she found you were messing around first."
"No. Oh, no. I-I wasn't... Uh - How do you know?" Lester asked.
Now Dean's patience was definitely waning. "Well, you just got that, uh, pervy, 'I'd do anything to nail my secretary' look."
"Oh. No. T-that - it's different when guys do it," Lester replied.
Ember would have already stabbed this idiot. Dean wanted to get on with this. "Really?"
"Yeah. It's called 'science,'" Lester said, as though this was obvious.
"Oh." Dean could be at the bar getting laid right now. If Ember wasn't available, there were other options. All demons, no commitments. That's what they'd wanted.
"Men aren't built for monogamy... because of evolution. We're - we're - we're programmed, you know, to -to spread our seed."
Dean punched him.
"Ohh! Ow!"
"Like I said - loser, with a capital 'L,' rhymes with 'you suck,'" said Dean.
"Yeah, well, you're a punk-ass demon! And you work for me now. So get in there and do your job, you freak!" Dean's face turned icy. He could feel his anger affecting the Mark.
"And what are you gonna do? You gonna watch, huh? Is that what you like to do, Lester? Watch? Well, watch this." And he sunk the blade into the man's chest.
-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-
"Dean! How did it go?" Crowley asked.
Dean had barely noticed Crowley; his eyes immediately strayed to Ember's. Her face was impassive, as was usual these days, but she gave a slight smile that he recognized as being only for him.
"Fine. Fine. Uh... He's dead, and you're right -I-I feel amazing." Ember smirked at him.
"He?"
"Uh, Lester."
"The client? You killed the client?" Crowley seemed angry. Dean didn't care. Ember's smirk was growing wider.
"Does it matter? He was a douche. Now he's a dead douche."
"Of course it matters! The deal was one dead wife for one soul. The wife's not dead, I don't get the soul. It's math."
Ember slipped her hand into Dean's and gave him a smile. He had the impression that she was particularly pleased that he had disobeyed Crowley, more than anything else.
"Well... There you go," said Dean.
"Hey! Don't turn your back on me!" yelled Crowley.
Dean turned around and sent Crowley sprawling on the floor. Dean and Ember both laughed.
"What do you think you're doing?" Crowley asked, getting up.
"Oh, whatever I want," Dean said.
Ember nodded at Dean. "We don't have to do your bidding," she said to Crowley. "Thanks for showing us the ropes. We'll take it from here. We're Team Free Will, you know." She gave a twisted smile that didn't meet her eyes. "We do what we want."
"Really? Because I think you don't know what you want," Crowley yelled at them. "Tell me, - what are you? A demon? If so, why isn't Lester's wife dead? Why isn't that child dead?" He looked at Ember in her turn. "Did you feel sorry for them? So maybe you're human. Except you have those pretty black peepers and you're working alongside me. Why don't you do us all a great big favor and PICK A BLOODY SIDE?!"
"Or what?" Dean snapped. "Hmm? Go ahead. Make a move. See how it ends. I ain't your friggin' bestie, and I ain't taking orders from you. When I need to kill, I'll call. Until then, stay out of my way."
"Stop looking at me like you own me," Ember added to Crowley. "You did us a favor, I'm not gonna lie. It's about time I stretched my legs a little bit. But I'm not having sex with you, no matter what meat suit you crawl into."
Dean smirked. "Why not, you fuck everything else," said Crowley.
Ember wasn't bothered. "I fuck who I want, when I want, how I want," she said.
"Fine. It's over," Crowley snapped. "What can I say? Crazy ones - well, they're good for a fling, but they're not relationship material."
"Are you done?" asked Dean.
"We're done. You know what, Dean? It's not me. It's you."
***Sam POV***
Sam was having a terrible week. He had been caught, tortured, escaped, and his brother was a demon. He was just leaving the motel when he heard the voice of the person he hated most in the world.
"Hello, Bullwinkle. You miss me?"
"So much," Sam said sarcastically.
"You're here for Dean. I'm here to give him to you," said Crowley.
Sam was confused. "What?"
"The little prat's bad for business. He's...uncontrollable. Must be the Mark. Anyway, Dean's your problem now - again, forever."
Sam was desperate. What was Crowley playing at? Was this another trick to get Sam off of their trail? "Then where is he?" Sam shouted.
"First, there's the small matter of my finder's fee."
"What?"
"There's a reason I picked Squirrel over you, you know? I swear, all that muscle must be crowding out your brain." Crowley spoke very slow now. "I can give you. Squirrel. And Squirrel's Half-Demon Pet. For the price of. The First Blade."
"Why would you do that?" Sam said, immediately suspecting something.
"Do you know how annoying your brother is?" Crowley explained, rolling his eyes. "I mean, sometimes he's almost worse than you, Moose. And he's a terrible singer, honestly."
Sam gave Crowley an odd look, but he was desperate; he didn't have the luxury of wondering whether or not this was a trap.
"Fine. You can have the First Blade, when I have Dean and Ember."
"Excellent. Here's the address." And Crowley made to disappear.
"Wait!" Sam shouted.
Crowley shot Sam an annoyed look. "Yes, Moose?"
"What happened? Why are they demons?"
Crowley smirked. "What, Feathers can't help you out with that one? Did all the lore in Heaven get smited during the Civil Wars?"
Sam narrowed his eyes. He wished Castiel was with him, but he was still on the way. "I can't help you if I don't know what I'm facing."
"Fair point," Crowley said, and took a lean against the car. "The Mark of Cain won't let go of your brother," he said simply. "When he died, it turned him into a Knight of Hell. Like Cain."
Sam was shocked. "A Knight of – like Abaddon?"
"And equally as much of a pain in my buttocks, as it turned out," said Crowley, and he made to leave again.
"What about Ember?" Sam asked.
Crowley gave Sam a superior smile, meant to show his pride that he had information Sam didn't. "Demon Blood Bond," he said.
Sam continued to narrow his eyes at Crowley, who was enjoying holding the information over Sam's head. "A failsafe put in place by Lucifer," he explained finally. "Love is powerful. I've no use for it myself, but weaker people…" Crowley shook his head, as though to brush off a bad memory. "It swayed Cain to stop killing. You knew that already."
"And?" Sam said, sensing more to the story.
"Rumor is that Lucifer had no power over the pure and the good. But he did have power over demon-kind. He didn't want to lose souls to love, like he ultimately did with Cain." Crowley spoke, as if reciting from an old tome. When two souls have been bonded, if both with demon blood, the demon blood shall rule."
Crowley seemed to consider a moment, and finally said, "No point in keeping it a secret; Dean knows it all anyway, and we both know you know how to cure demons." He paused a second for dramatic effect, then said, "They used it as a conversion method, for a long time. Make a human fall in love with you, add a little demon blood…" He shrugged, then smiled again, maliciously. "Why do you think your addiction to the blood was so strong? It was Lucifer's plan for you and Ruby, I think, if she had survived."
Sam was horrified. He shouldn't have been – the Apocalypse had been years ago, and so much had happened since then, but it still took him several seconds to collect his thoughts.
"Don't you want to know how to break the bond?" Crowley asked finally, feigning innocence.
"You're not going to help, I suppose?" Sam snapped at him.
"What do you think I'm doing?" Crowley said.
"Fine," Sam said between clenched teeth. "How do you break the bond?"
"You need both of their blood, and the member whose demonic nature initiated the Bond," said Crowley. "In this case, that'd be Dean. Incantation is Solvite haec animarum. Liberum ipsi manebimus. I've taken the liberty of writing it down for you in case your Moosehead forgets. And, I went ahead and got the blood for you." He pulled out two vials from his pocket. "Don't say I never helped you, Moose."
Sam rolled his eyes.
"And Sam?" Crowley said.
"Yeah?"
"If I were you, I'd get them both at the same time," Crowley said. "When one gets captured or hurt, the other one gets pretty lethal. Apparently it's the only thing they care about anymore."
Well that's definitely the truth, thought Sam.
***Sam POV***
August 10, Evening
As it turned out, Cole had been a blessing in disguise. The man had a grudge against Dean, who had apparently killed his father. He had captured and tortured Sam for Dean's whereabouts, then held him for ransom. When that didn't work, he had allowed Sam to escape, and then tracked him back to Dean.
As it turned out, Sam was able to use Cole as a distraction. He waited for just the right moment. Dean had beaten Cole to a pulp, without even breaking a sweat. It was a shame, and Sam felt horrible for the man. He knew he was a family man with a grudge – a human, and an innocent, despite the (relatively mild, to be honest) torture Sam had withstood at his hand. If it were any other situation, he would be coming to the man's rescue. His brother would have to come first, however.
Sam thought for a minute that Dean was planning on beating Cole up and leaving, but Cole finally managed to score a slash to Dean's face with a knife. He saw Dean's eyes grow cold, and watched with horror as the cut on his face healed. Ember watched, too, from the sidelines, finally taking her eyes off of Sam for the first time since Dean had become engaged with Cole.
"You have no idea what you walked into here do you? None," Dean said.
Sam could sense, but not see, Dean's eyes turn black. "What are you?" Cole said with horror.
"I'm a demon," Dean said. He held the First Blade to Cole's throat.
"Do it!" Cole shouted. "You said if you saw me, you would kill me, so do it!"
Ember was captivated by the fight, and so was Dean. This was his chance.
"I guess I changed my mind," said Dean.
In a swift move, Sam threw holy water over both of them. With his good hand, he clasped the handcuffs around Dean's wrist. With his bad hand, he ignored the pain in his shoulder and aimed at Ember – a Devil's Trap bullet. His aim was true.
Ember fell to the ground, holding her foot. "You shot me!" she screeched. She went invisible for a second, then immediately showed herself again. This happened two or three more times, and Sam realized that she couldn't control her invisibility with the Devil's Trap bullet. Dean dove for Sam, but missed, and fell uncomfortably on the ground. Ember was scrambling to get her shoe off. Sam took one quick look to make sure Cole was nowhere in sight (he had limped off to his car) before grabbing the vials out of his pocket. Ember grabbed at him with her hands, and he deftly maneuvered out of her way, paying more attention to the two vials, which were awkward with only his left hand working properly. Finally, he managed to remove both vials from his pocket. He put the open two ends together and emptied both vials together over Dean's head. "Solvite haec animarum. Liberum ipsi manebimus!" he shouted.
The effect was almost immediate. Dean roared with anger, and made an admirable attempt to go after Sam once again, despite the demon manacles on his wrists. Sam ignored Ember long enough to wrestle an additional pair of handcuffs onto Dean, with one on one of his hands and one on the Impala.
When he looked back at Ember, she was still on the ground, but it was as if her entire demeanor had changed. Her shoulders were hunched, and she was sobbing. In her hand was her left foot, which was bleeding despite the Devil's Trap bullet which sat next to her. Sam thought she must've clawed it out, but the spell must have hit before she had healed herself fully. Rather than wrapping it in bandages, however, she was staring at it, as though she wasn't sure quite what to think.
Sam looked at Dean again, but Dean simply glared at him from the back seat of the Impala. As quickly as he could, he grabbed the first aid supplies from the glove compartment and tossed them to her. Fortunately, Ember's muscle memory kicked in at this point, and she put pressure on the wound.
"Ember?" Dean asked.
Ember looked at Sam, tears pouring down her face, and said nothing.
"I'm sorry I shot you," he said.
Still she said nothing, but her sobs became even louder, and she covered her face.
"Ember, I… can you stand?" he tried. He held out his good hand to help her up.
She didn't answer, but reached out for his hand. She grasped it, and he was startled at how frail she felt, and how little strength she seemed to have. Between the two of them, however, Sam managed to move her into the passenger seat of the Impala. "I'm going to get you to a hospital," he said.
"No!" she said, suddenly meeting his eyes. Her eyes were wide with fear, and the look surprised him. It was a look he very rarely saw on her. "No," she said again, calmer this time. "Don't leave me, Sam."
-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-
Sam made it through the 11 hour journey home to the bunker with Dean and Ember thanks to caffeine and willpower. Once he had returned to the bunker, he had let Krissy take over care of Ember. "She's in shock," he told the teenager. "She'll let you know what happened when she's ready."
"Who shot her?" Krissy asked.
"I did," Sam said. There was no point lying. Krissy simply nodded, however, and set to work.
Sam waited until the Krissy was busy with Ember before getting Dean out of the car and getting him squared away in the dungeon. Then finally, mercifully, Sam went to sleep.
-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-
The next morning, Sam was grabbing himself a quick breakfast when Ember came down the stairs. Her eyes were red and puffy, and he knew she had been crying. She wore an oversized robe, which Sam recognized as one of Dean's. It dwarfed her thin frame, and she looked as though she was drowning in it. Her hair was long and stringy, and tangled.
"Ember," he said, and hugged, her, taking care of his sling.
She began to sob earnestly, and he led her to a chair. She tripped, and he realized that she had on the same bandages as yesterday, and was stumbling.
"Ember, those need to be changed," he said.
"Sam, I-…" But she had dissolved into tears again.
"Ember," he said softly, taking her in his arms again. At least she was speaking now, he thought. She hadn't said a single word in the car on the way home, though she had cried the whole way.
"But Sam, I-…"
"I know," he said. "It doesn't matter. You're home, now. And we'll get Dean better, too."
At Dean's name, she seemed to collect herself somewhat. "You're – you're curing him today?" she asked.
"I'm going to try," Sam said.
"It won't work with normal blood," Ember said. She was so quiet he thought she might have been talking to herself.
"What?" Sam said, surprised.
"He's a Knight of Hell," Ember said. "You'll need blood purified by a priest."
"How do you know that?" Sam asked.
"Stronger demon, stronger blood," she said whispered, and broke down in sobs again.
"Thanks," he said.
When she had come to a break in her sobbing, he said, "Ember, you need to change your bandages."
"I know," she whispered. "I… I just woke up, and I wanted to… I try to be strong for the kids, but…" Her lip quivered, and she bit down on it. "Mom took the red-eye," she said, whispering again when her tears were under control. "She'll be here in an hour. I'll be okay."
Sam looked at Ember again. Her lip was quivering once more, and silent tears ran down her cheeks. There wasn't much he could do, and he knew it. He put his arm around her and held her, and for now, that was it.