Daughter of Cain
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural
A/N: This story has a rating change to M. This chapter is rated M for Sexual content. Eacher chapter will have this Symbol to say Rated M (M). That is when you know if you are not into that stuff. After the alley fight scene to the motel is where it starts. You have been warned.
Chapter 12: Black
Vivian's POV
Weeks have gone by as I used the compass in search of Dean. It was taxing, using so much energy to teleport where the compass leads me. It seems like I was always a day late as Dean and Crowley had already left. Follow by encountering a few demons. Some being Abaddon supporters and others Crowley. Not wanting Crowley to get the word about me, I banished the demon to the deepest part of Hell, which would make the demon crawl painfully back to the surface before the King of Hell would know.
On occasion, I would stop at a hotel to rest to regain my energy. Sam would text me, and I would call him back, giving him an update. However, I kept the secret from Sam. The Young Winchester was not ready to learn the truth about the Mark of Cain, how the mark refuses to die and will turn the host into a demon to survive. Basically, the mark is a living entity that needs to be contained. Therefore, I lied, saying I got nothing.
Although, I heard a rumor fluttering about Sam selling another human soul to gain information. A part of me does not want to believe that. But when I crossed paths with a Crossed Road's Demon, she had confirmed Sam Winchester tricked another human to sell their soul since none of the Crossroad Demons could not make a deal with Sam.
Crowley was definitely keeping the Knight of Hell away from what could possibly make him human. It was strange how I can track Dean when he was human, but not as a demon. Unless Crowley has a strong hex bag, that is warding off other demons and tracking spells.
I sighed, laying down on the bed, closing my eyes to meditate. In the back of my mind, I can feel the dark energy. A slight whisper that was incomprehensible. Crisp words that were in a language I did not understand. I know many languages from English, Latin, German, French, Spanish, and a little bit of Enochian. The soft, crisp whispers sounded Enochian. However, it was unclear. Cain told me to ignore the whispers, for it was the mark. Ever since I touched the First Blade, the mark is calling to all of its creations. Cain, Dean, and I were from the mark's creation.
I seriously don't want to feel that primal urge of murder. Killing animals allowed me to have control over the First Blade. Although, I wonder what would have happened if I did kill a human soul. Would I have lost control? Sitting up, I went over to the bathroom to glance at my reflection. I blink, feeling my blood boil to see my demonic form as my veins and arteries appeared along my neck and partial of my face. Red bruising around my eyes. Let alone the color of my eyes change as the whites turn black and the brown irises become an illuminating purple.
I glanced at my hand, seeing more of my veins turning black, protruding from my fair skin. However, they did not appear organic like most veins and arteries in the human body. Mine seemed more constricted like cracks or branches. I took a deep breath, returning to my human form. There was more of my appearance; yet, I am unable to see it right now. Cain said I looked Beautiful, not as drastic as other demons.
I have seen what the other demons appeared. The lower-ranking demons had a more inhuman appearance. Many consisted of dull color skin, skull-studded eyes, no nose, and razor-sharp teeth. There are occasions demons have animalistic features, having traits of animals that resonate with their sin. Even borrow witches who soul their soul for magic appeared slightly more decay, a bit ghoulish appearance, grey skin, messy hair, rotten teeth, and markings all around them. Now when it comes to the demon hierarchy, the demon's appearance change. High the ranking, the more profound their features become. I can see them through their disguise of the vessel surrounded by smoke. The smoke is trying to be distracting for those who can see through the flesh.
Anyway, I need to focus and not let these enhancements of my abilities get the better of me. Returning to bed, I laid down, getting some rest.
.o0o.
I received a phone call in the middle of the night. Waking up to see it was from Sam. I yawned, answering the phone.
"Sam, do you know what time it is?" I asked.
"Sorry, I didn't know you were asleep," he replied.
"I'm half-human, not a full demon," I grumbled, then yawned again. "What is it that seemed so important."
"I think I might've found something." He said.
"And?" I asked, sitting up straight.
"A John Doe was murdered in Wisconsin a week ago turns out be this guy named Drew Neely who went missing from some religious order in northern Ohio, okay?" he continued.
"Okay," I replied.
"Now Drew Neely has been missing for three years. Killed his wife, his kids, and just disappeared." He said.
"Sounds demonic," I said.
"if this guy was possessed…"
"Sam, where are you going with this?" I asked.
"He could be the first lea, the first anything we've seen." He answered.
"What does your angel say about this?" I asked, rubbing my eyes to get the sleep off.
"I've told him but decided not to put him on the case," he explained.
"What, is he still low on batteries?"
Sam did not reply. I sighed, the last time I encounter Castiel, he did not have the same angelic strength as any other angel. Sam explained, the Angel Metatron has stolen Castiel's grace. Now Castiel is relying on borrow graced from a fallen angel. The problem was fallen grace that has been taken burns faster than one that is given willingly. Therefore, Castiel was dying slowly. But not in a humanly way.
"You want me to take a look into it?" I asked.
"I thought we could look into it together." He answered.
"Sam, you're injured," I reminded.
A few weeks ago, Sam and Castiel trapped a demon. I don't know the full details, but the demon fought back and dislocated Sam's right shoulder and tore some ligaments. Thus, Castiel and I have been traveling in our separate ways while Sam does research. Although I haven't been giving my share of details.
I got out of bed and pulled out a United States map, aligning it properly to face North. Then placed the demonic compass at the center. I'm, currently in Iowa. Doing a drop of my blood and Dean's, I activated the compass. The gems glowed as the ruby pointed in the direction Dean was at. A soft glow illuminated as its ray pointed at the possible location. North Dakota.
"I know, but I can use the help," Sam said.
"Sam," I warned, then sighed. "I'm following a lead as well."
"Really, where at?" he asked.
"Dakota, I don't know which one yet. Do you want me to come and help you?" I asked.
"No, you follow your lead," he said. "I'll handle this."
"Sam," I warned.
"If it gets out of hand, I'll call you," he assured.
I sighed, "I swear, the male race is stubborn."
Sam chuckled slightly, "Sorry for waking you."
"Bye, Sam," I said, finishing the conversation.
"Bye, Vivian," he said, hanging up.
I sighed, closing my phone, and stared at the map.
"Found you," I murmured.
It took some time and energy. I was close enough for the compass to locate Dean. No longer feeling tired, I got dressed and packed my things to find Dean. I need to find Dean fast before any clues indicate to Sam what Dean has become. If Sam discovers that Dean has become a demon…I don't know what will happen. Let alone the fact that Dean is no ordinary demon but a Knight of Hell.
.o0o.
To save energy for a possible confrontation, I drove to North Dakota. I had converted a toy car of a 1967 Ford Mustang. A classic American car, I dare say.
It has been almost six weeks now since Crowley kidnapped Dean and manipulated him. Now that I got a clear signal, I am taking this chance to find Dean and find a location to stabilize his urges. Cain believes I have some ability to get into Dean's mind. How I managed to calm him down back in Cuthbert Sinclair's hideout. Along with the confrontation with Abaddon. Now that Dean is a demon, the question is will I be able to control him again. I was conceived through the mark, will have the same power or not.
When I reached North Dakota, I made a pit stop at a motel. Needing a night to rest my eyes and doing another Demonic Compass search. Pulling out a map of North Dakota, I placed the compass down and did the usual spell. The amethyst aimed at me; the needles moved about while the ruby spun until pointing towards the location Dean would be. As the light illuminated towards Beulah.
"Gotcha," I murmured.
I wrote it down before stripping my clothes and taking a much-needed bath. The hot water felt nice as I washed my hair. Although I had forgotten to play music on my phone for my cellphone to charge, my thoughts lingered. I tried hard to focus on the shower's sounds, yet the soft Enochian whispers in the background. The entity residing in the mark calling out.
When I opened my eyes, the water had turned black.
I stumbled back, slipping on the tub, and fell. I groaned, rubbing my side, before sitting up to see the water returning back to normal. All clear and no longer black. For a second, I thought it was a leviathan or maybe ectoplasm. However, I did not sense another living organism of a beast nor a spirit. Looking around, I tried to figure out what just happened.
All this has been happening since Dean became a demon. When Cain had the mark, none of this happened. But ever since the mark has been transferred, have strange things have been happening. Although, something felt familiar about the whispers. As if they were from a distant memory of my childhood.
Shaking my head, I got out of the shower and turn it off. Taking a towel, I dried off and made my way over to the bed. I turned on the television to the local news to see any updates. Apparently, there has been a slight increase in storms and domestic farm animals falling sick. Indeed, there is a large population of demons in the area to make these omens.
My cellphone ding to be a text. I grabbed my phone and picked it up from the nightstand as it announced it was from Sam. Accepting the text, I open it with a message from Sam saying he needs me to call. Not wasting a second longer, I called him.
"Sam, what is it?" I asked.
"I'm in Wisconsin looking into the Drew Neely case," he replied with slight anger to his voice.
"How are you in Wisconsin already?" I asked.
"I took a plane. But that is not the point," Sam said. "Drew Neely was killed by Dean. However… Dean is a demon."
"What?" I asked.
"From what Crowley told me, the mark turned Dean into a demon," he answered.
"Sam…" I was lost for words that Sam discovered it. I'm not sure how he learned the truth or made contact with Crowley, but he is aware now.
"I know you prefer working alone, but I'm going to need all the help I can get to get my brother back." He said.
"All right, did you do a trace?" I asked.
"Yeah, Beulah, North Dakota," he answered. "I'll send you the address. It'll be a full day's drive for me to get there. Can you take the lead and grab my brother? Follow him, or whatever it is to keep Crowley away."
"I will try," I told him. "But Sam, you need to know, his attitude won't be the same."
Sam took a deep breath," I know."
"Send me the address, and I'll be there tomorrow," I told him.
"Thanks, Viv," Sam said before hanging up.
I hang up as well, then paused, "Viv?"
A text came as it was to 156 Knife River Road Beulah, ND.
I took a deep breath, knowing tomorrow I will need all the energy I can get to confront Dean.
.o0o.
The following day, I found myself at the roadhouse where Dean has been taking refuge. The scent of sulfur filled the air, though faint from all the rainfall, gas fumes, and grease. However, one scent caught my attention. It was similar to Cain and Abaddon, but not quite. Taking a deep breath, I made my way inside, discovering it was karaoke night, as people were by the tables being tortured by terrible singing.
As I grew closer to the bar, I discovered who that terrible singer was. None other than Dean Winchester sing a rendition of Imaginary Lover by Atlanta Rhythm Section. Dean was serenading into the microphone while spilling his beer and taking sips from it. It made me question how much he drank, by how his words are slurring. Let alone the audience calling out boos while throwing plastic cups.
"You guys suck," Dean grumbled, taking a swig of beer before stepping down.
He seemed intoxicated to sense me. I kept my distance, watching as Dean went over to the bar, getting another drink. A few more people got on the stage, singing their songs. Although, Dean was not paying attention, as he swings a shot of whiskey after another. There were no other demons, nor do I sense Crowley. The only demon that was here was Dean.
Curious, I signed up to do a song. I've chosen a classic of Pearl Jam, Black.
As I got on the stage handed a microphone. The screen changed, presenting the lyrics to Black, as a guitar strummed the first cord. The music played as I gave the intro:
"Hey…Ooh…." I sang.
This caught everyone's attention, as all eyes turned to me. I glanced at the bar, seeing Dean's body tensed. Taking a deep breath, I started to sing.
Sheets of empty canvas, untouched sheets of clay
Were laid spread out before me as her body once did
All five horizons revolved around her soul as the earth to the sun
Now the air I tasted and breathed has taken a turn
Ooh, and all I taught her was everything
Ooh, I know she gave me all that she wore
Dean finally turned around to watch and face me. His eyes widen before his face going blank. I continued to sing, taking control of the room.
And now my bitter hands chafe beneath the clouds of what was everything
Oh, the pictures have all been washed in black, tattooed everything...
I take a walk outside, I'm surrounded by some kids at play
I can feel their laughter, so why do I sear?
Oh, and twisted thoughts that spin round my head, I'm spinning, oh
I'm spinning, how quick the sun can drop away
And now my bitter hands cradle broken glass of what was everything
All the pictures have all been washed in black, tattooed everything...
All the love gone bad turned my world to black
Tattooed all I see, all that I am, all I'll be... yeah...
Uh huh... uh huh... ooh...
I know someday you'll have a beautiful life
I know you'll be a star in somebody else's sky
But why, why, why can't it be, can't it be mine?
Ooh why, ooh
The karaoke music did every too-doo-doo-too while I did a few belches to do my rendition. Everyone was still amazed by my singing, yet I have kept my concentration on Dean. A blond Waitress noticed this as she came over to Dean, who was about to request a refill but refused.
When I finished the song, the audience applauded. I gave a curt nod before jumping off the stage and walked outside the roadhouse and into an alleyway where there was no one. I did some Electrokinesis disrupting any security cameras to make things a bit more private. Not a moment too soon, Dean appeared at the back door.
"Hello, Dean," I greeted.
"Vivian," he replied, walking down the steps. "And I thought I was done having you as my keeper."
"Oh, didn't miss me, sugar?" I countered back.
Dean snorted, "Not at all."
I did a fake pout, "Shame because some have missed you."
He scoffed his head, "You mean my brother."
"Dean, this is serious," I told him.
"I bet Cain finally told you the truth," he murmured, approaching closer. "How he truly became a demon."
And just like that, his eyes turned black. I showed my true form, seeing passed through his vessel to reveal his demonic form. His demonic appearance was the same as his vessel, only his skin was ash-grey, the same marking of veins being dark, as his right arm where the mark was burning red. Scars covered his body where he was injured throughout his life, especially the gashes where Hell once injured him. What I also noticed was blood seeping from his sides of his temple; along his hair was a pair of horns slowly growing.
"You're not afraid," he noted.
"As if I'm afraid of a demon," I challenged.
He was soon in front of me.
"I'm no regular demon," he said. "I'm a Deanmon."
I stared at him for a moment; however, I couldn't help but snort and laughed from that. His hand flinched, and I teleported, appearing behind him just as he punched the wall.
"Really, how long have you've been waiting to use that pun?" I asked.
Dean glared at me, trying to do another punch. However, I teleported again, hunched over the dumpsters.
"To slow," I cooed. "I take it you haven't mastered the art of teleportation yet."
"Well, I was only resurrected six weeks ago." He countered.
"Seriously, cut the horse playing and listen," I said.
"And why should I?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"Because you are a Knight of Hell," I answered. "the first one in over two thousand years."
"Crowley did say that part," Dean murmured.
"I'm serious. Cain sent me to help you," I said.
"Thanks for the offer, but no," he said. "I'm gonna drink until I pass out, sing one more song, and head out."
As he was about to walk back to the door, I sway my hand, using telekinesis to move another dumpster to block him. Dean turned around, facing me, giving a challenging look. He tried to move around; however, I made the dumpster block him again. Dean sighed as he turned around, facing me.
"I was trying to be nice," he said, as his hand went behind his back, pulling out the First Blade. "But now you are pissing me off."
I took caution, drawing a fixed blade knife that had a sigil on it.
"I think we both can agree my knife is bigger than yours," he taunted.
"At least I'm not an ass holding a donkey's jaw," I countered.
He smirked, "I really don't want to kill you."
"I hate to die," I murmured. "So put the blade away, and let's talk."
"Not gonna happen," he countered.
I sighed and teleported. Dean being new to the demonic world doesn't know how to use his abilities. So far, I can only sense strength from him. And being a male makes him stronger. Therefore, I teleported around Dean, cutting him. I got a good slice on his arm. He cried out, grasping his bicep, seeing blood. The sigil on my blade glowed as the wound continued to hurt him.
"What the hell?" he growled.
"Somethin from Cain's collection," I murmured, far away from Dean, twirling the knife. "Hurt's like Hell, doesn't it? It prolongs the pain."
"Clever girl," Dean murmured, suddenly he lunges at me.
He tried to get a hold of me, but I teleported away. Appearing behind him. It was like this, as he continued to attack me while I teleported about, throwing a few punches. There were times I blasted him down, pinning him. Though, being a Hell Knight, I don't have the same strength with a lesser demon. I snapped the connection long enough before he realizes this. There were a few times he punched me, but it seemed like he was toying me.
I was about to cut him again as I teleported, except he grabbed hold of my arm and flipped me over. I gasped, my body impacted hard on the concrete. Dean climbed on top, pinning me to the ground. I glared at him through my purple eyes, trying to use my legs, except he found a position to restrain me as he tossed my knife.
"Should have flown away, Vivian," Dean murmured.
I growled at him, "Dean, stop!"
He stopped for a moment glancing at me. At first, I thought the theory would work. Until he adjusted his grip on the First Blade and slammed down. I closed my eyes, expecting my demise, but it didn't come. Opening my eyes, I found the First Blade aimed at my chest by an inch. Dean's dominant hand was tensed, knuckles near white while the Mark of Cain glowed. As if the mark was restraining him.
Dean's black eyes glared at me as he tried again, but like before, the mark would stop him. He growled, changing his position that the blade was pressed against my neck. There was pressure on my windpipes, but the magic to cause harm was not there.
"What did you do?" he growled.
I panted, trying to breathe, "Nothin'."
A demonic growl erupted between his lips. Meanwhile, I hissed at him. Our dark sides showing, as the humans were oblivious of a Hell Knight and a cambion were fighting in an alley. What separated us was the First Blade. Nevertheless, something was preventing us from killing each other. As the mark glowed. Dean hissed, pulling away enough for me to headbutt him, adding more distance enough for me to punch my way out, and turned us around to be on top.
Dean musters his strength, trying to roll us back to dominance. I grabbed an abandoned bottle and smashed it on his head. He cried out as I teleported, keeping distance. I glared, giving a hiss while Dean stood up, rubbing his head.
"Ow," he grumbled. "Bitch."
"Dick," I spat.
"Aren't you a southern lady?" He murmured.
"Never said I was a southern belle," I said.
"Guess you're not," he complimented.
Suddenly I was pinned to the wall, an arm pressed along my chest. I gasped, staring at Dean as he pinned me with his body. He looked down, giving a smirk.
"And I'm no gentleman," he added.
I was flabbergasted, for he can teleport. But how? I sensed he did not have that ability. How in the world was he able to do it now? Unless he knew how to camouflage just like me.
Dean continued to keep me pinned, staring down at me. I glared at him, seeing the blood seeping from his forehead from the wound, only to stop and heal itself. Dean glanced at me; the injuries he had inflicted slowly started to heal themselves. Our eyes connected as Dean continued to press his right arm further into me. The mark glowing between us. Soon both our eyes turned back to normal while my markings soothed down.
Time seemed to vanish between us in this deadlock. One false move, and one of us will be severely harmed. Our eyes still locked, trying to read one another. The instincts growling at each other. For some reason, I don't know if I want to fight him or fuck him. Dean seemed to have the same confrontation.
And then it happened.
I don't know who initiated it.
Only that our lips were now smashed together. I caught my breath, stiffing a cry of genuine surprise. His mouth slanted, breaking past the barrier of my lips and plunder my mouth. The hunger of him was bruising, going far beyond the physical pull deep inside my belly. Desire, maybe want. I wasn't sure any longer, but I couldn't stop myself from nipping his lips. A sigh caught in my throat before I could swallow it down. Undoubtedly, I must be operating on reflex. The warmth and weight of him brought out the longing I had.
Still, that little encouragement was all the permission he needed to slide his hand up my hip to my waist, and I could feel the pressure of his fingers. But then his hand found my breast, and every muscle in my body stiffened and craved. My mind was swirling, pulling away slightly to breathe. Panting out to bring back air to my lungs, except Dean was not done as he claimed my neck kissing and sucking on it.
We should stop.
This was not right.
But at the same time, I wanted more.
"Dean," I panted.
Dean lifted up, staring at me. His green eyes glittered with arousal. He put his hands on my hips, staking a claim, "You know you want it."
I managed to maneuver my hand to grope his dick, "And you want me too."
This lust.
Dean merely smirked as he wrapped his arms around me and teleported us to a room. Dean pinned me to the door again. Gliding his hands along my arms, Dean lifted my wrists and pinned them to the door above my head. He smelled like beer and whiskey. Dean kissed me again, deepening it, he hugged me at hips, chest, and thighs. His erection nudged into my hips, teasing me with an unexpected offer.
Growling, I glared at him.
Dean leaned down and kissed my jaw, my neck and tugged at the collar of my jacket with his teeth. Before pinning both hands in one, while using his other hand to unzip the jacket revealing my cleavage. He perceived as he lashed his tongue over my skin and towards my breast that sends shivers up my spine, and coaxed me to wrap my legs around his hips. The sensual glide of his tongue over my skin dizzied my senses.
"Fuck," I whispered.
Dean smirked as he licked his way up to my ear and growled, "You taste like honey."
I glared at him, showing my purple eyes. He took the challenge revealing his black ones. Not a second longer, he lifted me up and tossed me on the bed. The primal instincts taking control as we ripped each other of our clothes. Boots nearly flying and crashing about.
Dean laid me on the bed and crawled over me. His eyes returning to green with a predatory spark that didn't frighten me but stir desired. His tongue lashed over my bare breast. I squirmed and pulled him closer. He nipped my jaw and kissed his way up to my mouth. He ground his erection against me, and I tilted up a hip to meet that tease.
Not letting him have control, I gripped his penis with one hand and slide the other down to cup his testicles. Dean tensed, staring down at me with wide eyes.
"Careful now, or I might break you," I murmured.
"Is that a challenge?" he asked.
I let my eyes go brown with a smirk along with a squeeze that received a groan.
"I'll show you," he growled.
"Prove it," I challenged, letting go of him.
Dean smirked as he leaned down and kissed his way along my body. He spread my legs apart, revealing my privates to him. Not a second long, he pressed his lips to the inside of my thighs. I gasped, not expecting it, tensing practically scooting away, except he held me still, nipping to near biting my skin. My hands crept along his shoulders, nails grazing his skin until digging deep, sending pleasure and pain. My action caused pain that his breath hitch, but it goads him.
I moaned, closing my eyes. He didn't rush as he explored my nether regions. He ran his hands from my ankles up to my calves, shaping me that I let go of his shoulders and bury my hands in his hair. Only then did he allow his lips to go higher, and I lost my train of thoughts. He uses his teeth as well as his tongue and lips, adding a mixture of pain and pleasure. I inhale sharply, toes digging into the mattress. Small whimpers escaped my lips, my fingers locked almost painfully into his hair as he worked me until climaxed. My head rolled back, arching into the mattress, feeling euphoric bliss running through my veins.
Dean sat up, wiping the essence off his chin. He leaned forward towards the nightstand and pulled out a wrapper. Gaining my senses, I looked up, seeing him sliding the condom on. Taking the distraction, I wrapped my legs around him and pushed him down onto the mattress. A smirked grazed his lips. Taking hold of his cock, feeling it hard and pulsing. It was practically begging for attention.
No longer denying him, I guided his cock and slid down his body. The moment I got the tip inside, Dean grabbed my hips and thrust up. I gasped while he groaned from the sudden intrusion. A long time since I last had sex as my body adjusted to him. At the same time, something happened. As my markings covered my body, meanwhile, while the Mark of Cain glowed on his arms. Taking hold of his hands, I pinned him down to the mattress glaring at the Knight of Hell. His green eyes stared at my form, seeing every detail of veins protruding from my skin.
A demonic growl erupting from his mouth while I gave a hiss moving my hips. By instincts, my hips moved, sliding up and down his member. He moved his hips against mine, his eyes on me as he touched the deepest places with me. As I went down, feeling my entire core full. I leaned down, claiming his lips roughly, as I rocked against him faster and harder, as he thrust against me with increasing force. Tension coiling inside me, and I writhed above him, meeting him thrust for thrust. Dean groaned, feeling my muscles strangle his member. He broke free from my grasp, wrapping his arms around me, and flipped us over.
There was no control. He thrust into me over and over again. I trembled beneath him, and he could feel my walls spasm inside, contracting around him. It went on and on, the sensation, unlike anything I had experienced, until it, too, became too much that I came again.
"Fuck," Dean cursed as he stopped as he felt my orgasm.
I panted, restrained, and unable to grab onto anything. However, Dean was not done. As he pulled out and grabbed my waist, forcing me onto my hands and knees. I narrowed my eyes at him. He caressed was rough, taut muscles and spread my legs. Dean mounted me as he thrust inside, which caused him to groan. I squirmed beneath him, uttering yearning cries that grew into screams as he hit his mark. Once he found the response, he was relentless, laying siege without mercy. He pushed faster and deeper.
Until he wrapped his arms around my waist and forced me up to sit on him. One arm around my waist while the other along my breasts. His mouth taking claim of my neck. Bracing myself, I moved an arm around his head, grasping his hair while my other hand gripped his side. All I could do was pushed back as he moved forward. But Dean was not done, as his hand on my breast pinched my nipple while the one down below claimed my clit. Both adding a mixture of pleasure and pain. The mark heating up, practically burning my skin.
The air was leaving my lungs, making it impossible to breathe. As if Dean and the mark were calling to me. Over and over, was I being impaled and burned. It went on, until feeling Dean's pace became faster and harder, practically erratic until he tensed with a groaned trigging both our climaxes. As our nails dig deep into each other's flesh.
Limb by slow limb, we collapsed into a heap.
All you can hear was our heavy breathing and hearts racing. Dean's right was still wrapped around me. I can see the mark being sated back to normal in the dim light while my marks retracted back into my skin. Overwhelmed and exhausted, as if the energy was drained out of us, we fell unconscious.
.o0o.
I woke up and stared at a sleeping Dean. For a moment, I was confused, before remembering what happened last night and cursed. I was utterly dumbfounded, trying to grasp how we ended up in this position. How did we end up having sex? It wasn't by logical choice. Now that I think about it, after fighting Dean, something snapped between us. Something pulled us together. Like our demonic instincts wanted it.
Carefully I maneuvered away to make some distance. Seriously, this crossed the line on so many factors. However, damn, I felt sore and satisfied. It has been over a decade, maybe two, since I last got laid and be perfectly satisfied. A struggle for me since most sexual encounters with humans barely satisfies me. On occasion, sleeping with a monster can deal the itch. But doing it with Dean, it was something all right. Except, it wasn't supposed to happen.
Staring down at Dean, he seemed peaceful. Back to being human. Although, the moment he wakes, the malevolent attitude will come out, not having a care in the world. From what I've been getting from the demon encounters, Crowley has been feeding the mark with Abaddon's supporters. It satisfied the bloodlust. But knowing my father, killing a certain species for a long time won't satisfy the mark. The Mark of Cain will crave for real blood. And I'm not sure how many demons Dean has killed. Otherwise, it will be a long recovery to ignore the addiction. Cain managed to do so from my birth until recently. Almost a hundred and fifty-five years of detox.
I grabbed my hair; this was a mistake. A major mistake. No doubt I won't be visiting Cain for a while. If I came home and he smelled Dean on me in what has transpired, he'll go all papa bear.
There was a sound of footsteps approaching the room along with the shake of the door handle. Cursing, I warped reality, having both our clothes on, removing any evidence of sex, and teleported into the closet. In the nick of time, the blonde hair waitress came in. She glanced at Dean, noting the heavy sleeper before walking over to the bathroom. A moment later, she came out, holding a glass of water. She walked over to Dean as her loud footsteps woke him up.
"Drink, tough guy," She said, handing him the glass.
Dean shot up, glancing around, noticing he was wearing clothes, as well, as the place seemed back to normal. As if I haven't been there. He sighs, moving the glass away, "Nah, I'm good."
"Your funeral," she said, setting to glass on the nightstand.
Dean rubbed his eyes and looked at her, "mm."
She stared at him, hands in her pocket, "What?"
"Let's go somewhere, you and me," he offered.
"We are somewhere," she murmured.
"No," he groaned as he sat up. "Somewhere else."
"Sweetie… we barely know each other. And you're drunk," she reminded.
He tossed his hand through his hair, "Yeah, but, uh… I-I protected your honor, didn't I?"
The waitress nodded, "Yeah. I thought so, too. Seeing you take on Matt, I was like, "Wow." No one's ever done that for me before. But then you kept on going and going, and I realized whatever is going on with you has nothing to do with my "honor" at all."
"Hm," he replied, adjusting himself. "You got all that from a bar fight? Wow. You're good."
"I wait tables at a roadhouse." She reminded. "I meet the bad guys. I meet the good guys. And maybe for a second there, I thought you were a good guy playing bad. I don't know. It doesn't matter." She then sighed. "Maybe you're just –"
"The kind of guy who sleeps with every skank in every small-town dive that he passes through?" he finished with no remorse. "Well, you really do know how to read people, 'cause that sure as hell sounds like me."
The waitress turned around, walking away, but stopped to face him, "Now, see? I'm so screwed up myself I'm gonna walk out of here thinking I actually deserved that."
Afterward, she left.
Dean watched her leave. After a moment, he faced the closet, "You can come out now."
I opened the screen door and stepped out, "Wow, that was low even for you."
"It made her leave," he replied.
I stared at him, noticing the conflict he had within. As if his humanity and demon personally were fighting with each other for dominance. I made a mental note of that. Maybe a part of him is still there.
"Although I got to say between the two of you, you're better in bed," he added.
I crossed my arms, shaking my head.
"Now that I think about it, how did you find me?" he asked.
"I have my ways," I answered.
"Let me guess, your daddy," he taunted.
"Cain sent me to find you and help you," I said. "And it seems you're struggling."
"And what gave that away?" He asked, climbing out of bed.
"Just now," I answered.
Suddenly I was pinned to a wall with Dean's right hand wrapped around my neck. He stared down at me; his expression neutral while he attempted to squeeze. However, the mark glowed, preventing that.
"Why can't I kill you?" he growled.
"Because I am sire from the mark," I murmured. "The mark won't let you kill its own creations."
Dean sighed, letting go and stepping back, "Better you than Crowley."
I rubbed my neck.
"I'm not going to force you back to Sam," I promised, except that was a lie.
"Good," he grumbled, going to the minifridge to pull out a can of beer.
However, I will have to wait for the right moment to take Dean down and get him back to Kansas if he gets out of control. Sam already knows, and no doubt, Castiel does. Glancing out the window, I can tell it was getting late, and we have slept the whole day away. After that stunt at the roadhouse and waitress, it's time we left Beulah.
It took some time, but we managed to pack up and get into my car. Dean was impressed with the Mustang. As he tossed his duffle bag in the back seat.
"Nice ride," he murmured. "I'm driving."
"Doesn't work like that, sugar," I said.
Dean raised a brow before bowing his head into the driver's side and noticed no ignition slot. Therefore, there was no key. He then glanced at the car, noting how new it was to a 1967 mustang. Took him a moment before saying, "You converted a toy car."
I simply smirked as I got in the driver's side. Dean rolled his eyes as he got into the passenger side.
"Where too?" I asked.
"Just drive," he grumbled.
I shrugged, leaving the motel's parking lot. It soon started to rain, yet there was silence. An hour passed when Dean's phone began to ring. Dean glanced at the screen, noting it was from Sam.
"I let you an open tab at the bar. Knock yourself out." Dean greeted.
"Well, Hell, I just may take you up on that." Another voice answered that it wasn't Sam.
"And who is this?" Dean asked.
"Me? Well, I'm Karma, brother." The man answered.
"On my brother's phone?" Dean noted.
"On your brother's phone," the man confirmed.
Dean's eyes water while keeping a poker face, "Is he dead?"
"No. Not yet. And as long as you show up where I tell you to show up, your brother will be just fine."
"And how do I know he's still alive?" Dean challenged.
There was a long pause as Dean and I heard the man say 'Speak.' Still silence engrossed the other end until a punch could be heard and Sam groaning in pain.
"Proof of life," the man confirmed.
"Dean!" Sam called out.
"Got a pen?" the man asked.
"No, you listen to me. There's no trade. There's no meet-up. There's no nothing – except the one-hundred percent guarantee that, somewhere down the road, I will find you, and I will kill you." Dean threatened.
"Well, that'll be a cold comfort to your dead brother," the man replied.
"I told him to let me go. So whatever jam he's in now, that is his problem."
"Yeah, well, I'll be sure to pass that on to him. As I'm slitting his throat."
"Yeah, you do that, 'cause he knows me. And he knows damn sure that if I am one thing, I am a man of my word." Dean promised and then hung up.
I focused on the road realizing the dangers we are in. Although Dean cannot kill me, and I have my oath. Dean will not hesitate if someone else kills his brother. But, if the stranger on the phone does kill Sam. What little humanity Dean has will kill the man who killed his brother. A part of me wanted to teleport and save Sam. However, if I do, I will lose track of Dean and do the search all over again.
I glance to my side, seeing Dean having a knowing look.
Song Black by Pearl Jam
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