"Pretty afraid right now, not gonna lie." Grace took a step back, trying to gain some distance between them. He let her edge back towards the table, but his gaze never left her.

The boys had been gone for hours, or so she thought. There was no one else around, no one to hear her scream if this thing attacked her. A door slammed somewhere in the depths of the bunker, Sam rushing upstairs, much to her relief. "Grace, he's a friend. Something's wrong with Dean. The Mark's gotten to him." Grace relaxed, cautiously shaking the angel's hand. "Dean's in the dungeon for now, but we've got to figure something out before he gets any worse. Cas, how much time do you think we've got?"

"Dungeon? How much time… what's going on?"

"He needs blood. The Mark needs blood. It's only a matter of time before he can't control it," Cas explained as the trio made their way towards the dungeon.

"He's gotten more and more violent on hunts," Sam confessed. "I didn't want to worry you because I knew he'd be fine around you, but there's something seriously wrong now."

Grace peered through the hole in the door of the dungeon, watching Dean sleep. "He looks fine to me."

"He attacked an angel," Cas told her, crossing his arms. "He nearly killed Gadreel. Now I've got to get to the Angel Tablet before any more harm can come to Heaven."

"And I'm going after Metatron himself. Hopefully that'll end this mess," Sam resolved. "I need you to stay here and make sure nothing happens to him. He should be fine in there, but he's not happy with us. Maybe he'll believe you if you tell him he needs to be in there for his own good."

Looking back at the door to the dungeon, Grace nodded solemnly. The boys had filled her in on Metatron and his insane plan to take over the throne of Heaven, but now everything was coming together. "Whatever you do, don't let him out," Cas instructed. "He might seem harmless now, and he might try to assure you that he's just Dean, but the Mark is taking over. There's no telling what he could do if he gets out. We shouldn't risk it."

Cas snapped his fingers, disappearing with the whoosh of angel wings. Sam and Grace went back up to the library together, Sam telling her that they would get everything sorted out with the angels and then find a way to remove the Mark. "I'll keep looking into it," Grace resolved, grabbing her laptop and thinking of a few books to try. "We've got a couple of leads, which means there's got to be something out there that'll help him, right?"

"Hopefully." Sam pocketed his keys, double checking that he had everything for the road trip ahead of him. He was halfway up the stairs to the door when he turned back, saying, "Grace, thank you for everything. I know we don't thank you nearly enough, but you've been so helpful already. We're going to find something. We have to."

"We will. Now you be careful out there," she urged.

"Always," Sam nodded, taking off for his car.

With a sigh Grace gathered her things, carrying a crate full of books and her laptop down to the dungeon. Dean was still asleep, so she set her things up before going back up to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. When she came back, Dean had gotten up and started pacing. It took him a little while to notice her, but he called out to her as she read, trying to find a way to scrub the Mark from his arm. "Gracie? Hey, let me out."

"Nope." She went back to her reading, not bothering to look up at him.

"C'mon, Grace. Sam and Cas don't trust me, but you've seen it, I can handle the Mark. I'm fine. I've never hurt you, have I?"

Setting her book aside, she stood, coming over to the door. "No, but Sam says you tried to attack an innocent angel. And I've seen you come home in more blood than you should have from some of these hunts. I know something's wrong."

They were separated by inches of steel, but Grace could still feel the anger burning in his eyes. "Let me out. I'm not going to hurt you. I could never hurt you. Don't you trust me?"

"I do." She put her hand on the cool metal, telling him that, "I trust you, but I don't trust Cain. I don't trust Lucifer. I don't trust whatever that Mark was meant to bind. I trust you, Dean, but not the thing that's trying to take you over. I know you're strong, and I know you can fight it, but we don't know everything about it. It might not be something you can fight. So I'm going to try to find a way to help, but that means I have to keep you in here for now. I don't like it either. You have to trust me."

Both of them stepped back from the door, Dean going back to pacing around the holding cell. Grace sat down on the floor again, amidst her piles of books. She turned the music on her laptop up so Dean could hear too. It wouldn't help much, but it was better than the echoing silence of the dungeon.

As Grace was struggling through a book written in Old English, there was a crash from inside the cell. She bolted up, rushing over to see a man in a suit standing there, talking to Dean. But that was impossible. There had been no one else in the cell - no one else in the bunker at all. "Oh my," the man said, turning to Grace. "Hello there, Ginger Spice. We'll have to take care of her, now won't we?"

"Don't hurt her, Crowley."

"Just going to knock her out for the great escape."

Grace looked to Dean, making eye contact as everything went black. When she came to, the dungeon was empty. Her music was still playing, but every note sounded like it was being played over the speakers at a rock concert, and she's scored front-and-center tickets. She slammed her laptop shut, reaching for her phone instead. Several hours had passed.

Sam answered on the first ring. "What's up?"

"He's gone," she said, walking into the dungeon to see the destruction Dean had left behind. "This guy, he just appeared and… he knocked me out without touching me. He's got some sort of powers… his name was Crowley, and I think he was British. Sam, how the hell -"

"Yeah, he's the King of Hell. If he took Dean with him… that's not good." Sam's voice stung, every word making her migraine worse. "Get some rest. I'll work on this."

"Are you sure? I've still got a ton of lore to get through on the Mark of Cain."

"I don't know what's coming, but this might be bigger than we thought. I might need you in fighting shape pretty soon. Take some painkillers, take a nap, and make sure the warding on the bunker is still strong. I'll let you know when I know anything." Sam hung up, Grace sighing and gathering her things. If this really was something bigger, they were a lot worse off than she thought.

When Grace woke up from her nap, there was something going on in the library. Sam's voice carried in, Grace catching every other word. She could hear Cas saying something in response, and it didn't sound good. "You're not making a deal to bring him back. Crowley's not on our side, and he's going to double-cross you any chance he can get."

Grace stumbled out into the hall, wrapping herself in a bathrobe as she went. She made eye contact with Sam first, who looked utterly defeated. Cas turned to look at her too. Neither of them quite knew what to say, but Cas spoke first. "Grace, I'm sorry."

"What do you mean? Sam, what's going on? Where's Dean? Sam? Cas?"

Sam got up, coming over to hug her. "He went after Metatron on his own. Metatron's locked away, thanks to Cas, but Dean… Dean didn't make it."

"No," she breathed, stepping back to look between him and Cas. Cas nodded solemnly. "No, he, he should've won, if he had the Mark and all of its power. He should've - Sam, no."

"I'm going to try to bring him back, but he's in his room if you want to say goodbye. I don't know if this is going to work." Sam's words washed over her, Grace hearing next to nothing. Somehow she managed to make her way down the hall to Dean's room, leaving Sam and Cas staring after her.

Sure enough, Dean was laying on his bed, looking incredibly peaceful. It didn't seem like he'd been through a deadly but they were dealing with angels and demons. Damage wasn't always visible, and death didn't always mean blood and broken bones. She reached out and took his hand, her own trembling at the feeling of cold flesh. She meshed her fingers with his, closing her eyes and trying the only thing she could think of. "God… if you're out there, we need you. The boys have been trying to find you, but we really - I really - need your help. I don't know what else to do. This isn't the end of the story. It can't be. Please." She opened her eyes, staring down at Dean's motionless figure. "Please."

She sat there for hours, eventually dozing off in her chair. There was no way she and Sam would have a hunter's funeral quite yet. Sam was adamant about trying to summon the King of Hell to barter with him. Grace just kept praying. So far, they'd gotten nowhere.

A shadow appeared in the doorway, Grace sleepily assuming it was Sam, coming to check up on her. Sam was still in his room, desperately trying to summon a demon. This man was shorter, more polished. "See what I see. Feel what I feel," he muttered. "Open your eyes."

Grace lifted her eyelids only slightly, pretending to still be asleep. She could see the shoes in front of her, not Sam's but someone else's. Glancing at the body next to her, she felt Dean move. He had opened his eyes, but they were pitch black.

A.N.: Thank you all for the support on the road so far. Buckle your seatbelts, because I've got some world-bending stuff coming.