Chapter 2

The journey out of Hell towards the surface seemed to take longer than it had coming in. As Crowley, Rowena and Sam finally made it top-side, a new day had already dawned. They had been in Hell for over a day, which would have been in Hell days… Sam cut off that train of thought.

Crowley stopped them all and they stood before a wall with engraved symbols. He placed a hand upon one of them; large and swirling, pressing his palm into it firmly and it began to glow brightly. The wall started to shift creating an opening to Earth.

As they stepped through they found themselves in an empty room, with no windows and a single dark stained door. The opening behind them shifted back into place, once again becoming a wall.

"Finally, I'm back home." Crowley said. Sam huffed, nonplussed.

Rowena breathed in deeply, enjoying the fresh oxygen.

"God, I hadn't realised how stuffy it was down there."

Crowley opened the door to the room with Sam and Rowena in tow, leading them down a hallway that had a couple of other doors. Sam heard a high pitched scream coming from one of them. As the hallway ended it opened up to the throne room. Crowley stopped and turned to face Sam.

"Do you need a lift?" Crowley asked Sam, stopping him in his tracks. The burning pain in his bicep had calmed down to a quiet throb.

"No. I'm good."

"Going to steal instead I'm guessing." Crowley smirked. Sam's jaw line twitched.

Crowley turned his mouth upside down. "Suite yourself." Pulling his phone from his pocket, Sam found numerous missed calls from Dean. He placed the phone back in his pocket and looked at Crowley who was sitting on his throne. Crowley placed something into his own pocket as he watched Sam intently.

"Me too, Squirrel must have been worried sick."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Need help finding the way out?"

"Nah. I'm good." Sam cleared his throat. "Uh, thanks. For everything". He made sure to look Crowley in the eyes.

"Well don't hurt yourself Sam."

Sam huffed only half amused. He watched as Rowena turned to walk away with the Book of the Damned within her clasped hands.

"I don't think so!" He ripped the Book out from her grasp. Crowley was suddenly in front of him, stopping Rowena from casting a curse. Sam tucked the Book inside his jacket and watched as Rowena clasped at her throat unable to make a sound. Crowley watched her in mock sympathy.

"Can't have you running around with that Book. You're enough trouble as it is." He turned to Sam. "Leave!"

Sam didn't waste any time and disappeared from the King of Hell's view down a dark hallway.

As he made his way out, he thought about his time in Hell. Something wasn't right – it was more than meeting Lucifer in the flesh again – he just couldn't put his finger on it. He had made it - he'd done what he'd set out to do. But why did he feel so, wrong? He wasn't sure but he knew one thing; he needed to call his brother.

...

Sam stole a car and drove as steadily as possible. He didn't want to see his brother anytime soon. He knew when he got to the Bunker, Dean and Castiel would be sitting at the Library desk waiting for him.

As soon as he arrived, Dean verbally poked and prodded and Sam was too exhausted to explain the full details.

"What's wrong with your arm?"

Sam looked at his left hand holding his right bicep. "I burnt it. Don't worry, I'll get it cleaned up."

Castiel stepped towards Sam. "I could heal it for you."

Sam stepped back, keeping away from Castiel's touch. His had remained clasped to the burn. "No!" Realising that he seemed to be freaking out, he instantly calmed his tone. "No. It's fine…. it's fine. Thanks."

Dean tried to keep his worried face in check.

"Hey, you hungry? Want something to drink? You must be starving!" Dean was already peddling his way towards the kitchen to make him something.

"No-Dean, it's okay." Dean stopped, listening. "I'm just mostly tired. I'll eat later." Sam sighed. "I'm gonna get cleaned up and hit the sack."

Dean looked down trying not to show his concern. He nodded in understanding. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead. We can talk later."

Sam nodded and walked past Castiel, who had remained mostly silent throughout the whole ordeal, watching him with a strange expression; his eyes seemed to be searching.

Sam took his chance to get away.

.

Finally Sam could breathe. He supposed if he had come back after a disappearing act on a normal hunt Dean wouldn't have let him go as easily. Coming back from Hell allowed him to keep his distance.

In the bathroom, he turned the shower on and got undressed. Slowly peeling the shirt sleeve away from the now dried bloodied wound he couldn't see anything specific other than an ugly mass of damaged flesh (some parts he could see were open) and dead tacky blood. He hopped straight into the falling water, the temperature as hot as he could stand. It scolded good feeling extra clean and burning away the smell of Hell.

Ten minutes later he switched the shower off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. Wiping the condensation off the mirror above the bathroom sink he looked into it and stared at his reflection. Something flashed within his eyes. It was too fast for him to establish what it was exactly but as it happened he hissed as a burning sensation ignited from the burn on his bicep. He took a step back to and put his arm before the mirror - there before his very eyes was the Mark of Cain. Amara's Mark. The Mark of the Darkness. The same one his fool brother had signed himself up for and now he stood in front of the mirror staring at its reflection upon his very own arm. 'What the Hell?"

There was no way he was going to tell Dean – well not yet. He needed to get rid of the Mark, then he'd tell him – or not. With it gone and not mentioned, Dean couldn't be pissed off at him. There wouldn't be any further repercussions from removing the Mark because Amara was already let out of her box. A pressure was beginning to build in his head and then he heard Lucifer's voice.

"You can't get rid of it; it was created by my Grace. What I give you, you're body will just hold onto it."

Sam looked around the room, brows frowning hard from the pressure in his head. Both hands held onto the rim of the sink. "What? How did you-?"

"My Grace. When I held onto you to give the Mark, it took with it some of my Grace. It's much easier now for me to get into your head. I can even project myself, although I'd be useless Angelically. Anyway, I don't think you'd appreciate it right now and well, I'm a bit spent after being forced back into the Cage so..."

"You're damn right I wouldn't!" Sam heaved.

"Now, now," Lucifer tutted. "Calm down. You're not gonna want the Mark take a hold of you in you're most fragile state."

"Why the hell did you give me the Mark?"

Lucifer sighed. "To defeat Amara of course… you were right Sam, it is personal."

Then the pressure was gone. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and swayed a little, slightly dizzy and grabbed the sink for equilibrium. "Christ!" Not only did he have to deal with the Mark, he now had Lucifer's Grace and him popping up into his head whenever he felt like it. Sam went to Hell to get some answers and answers he got, but he didn't want this. What was he going to do? He couldn't hide all this from Dean forever. At some point he was going to need his help and now he was a burden to his brother all over again. 'Dean doesn't need this.' Sam thought.

"Damn it!"

The Mark made a slight twinge.

Dean had already done the maths; over a day on Earth was over 4 months in Hell. Mind boggling as it was, Dean knew – had been there and experienced its endless depravity that stretched out time. Sam had been there for four months and was pretending that he was mentally unharmed. Dean knew different. Things had changed with him; trying too hard to act normal, laughing at his jokes and he now had new found tick that would have him unconsciously rubbing at his bicep. He spent a lot of his research time in his room and tried his damndest to steer clear from talking too much. Dean knew he was keeping something to himself – something had happened in the cage, something terrible, he knew that for sure; he just hoped that Sam would tell him sooner rather than later.

For a week Sam would only see Dean in the kitchen for breakfast or for a coffee top-up, but come Lunch and Dinner time, he was in his room, researching. By day eight Dean was desperately looking for a hunt so that they could get back on track. Dean needed something to kill.

Dean was startled awake by a loud noise, waking him up from a stressful night's sleep. He dreamt of Amara's soft lips upon his; her Darkness enshrouding the world, dispelling any source of light. Rubbing at his eyes he placed his feet into his slippers, put on a men of letters robe and went to find the source of disruption. The closer he got to the Library, the clearer he could hear the sound of his brother's voice. He sounded annoyed. Keeping out of sight, he watched Sam in the Library, pulling out a book from a shelf. His brother's back was faced towards him, oblivious of Dean's presence.

"…No, I'm not going to bring Castiel into this!" Sam flicked through the book's pages and his hand stopped mid turn of a page. "…because he'll know, that's why. Now fuck off!"

Dean watched him in surprise; he could see enough to know that Sam wasn't on his phone. Sam swayed on his feet and put a hand out on the shelf to steady himself and took in deep breaths, exhaling slowly. Immediately, he went to rub at the burn on his right bicep.

Dean walked further into the Library wondering whether he should pretend that he didn't just see what he just saw or if he should finally use it to his advantage, forcing his brother to open up.

"Hey, Sam, you okay?"

Sam whipped around in surprise. Obviously he had thought he was alone.

He stopped rubbing at his arm and walked over to the table and placed the book down on its polished surface. Hair fell in front of his face as he tilted his head down.

Dean walked over and stood on the other side of the table.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"You sure, 'cause it seemed like you were about to face plant." Dean countered while raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Yeah well, I've been really hitting the books so I'm a bit exhausted."

Dean nodded. He wasn't going to bring up the scene from before. 'Later.'

Sam took a seat and looked up at Dean.

"Anyway, how you doing. Smiting sickness gone?" Sam pulled the book towards him.

Dean rubbed his stomach on reflex.

"Yeah. Good as new." Sam looked up to check with his eyes whether Dean was lying. Dean looked at him, pointedly. "By the way, well done on changing the subject."

Sam snorted. "You're welcome."

Dean rested his hands onto the back on one of the chairs.

"We need a hunt brother. We've been cooped up here for too long…" Dean looked into his brothers eyes. For a moment he thought he saw a flash of fear in Sam's eyes.

"No, not until we find something that can—"

"That can what Sammy? You've been in your room for days – partly trying to avoid me," Dean put his hand up to stop Sam from contradicting him. "I know what you're doing; you're planning-researching, trying to find a way to stop Amara from destroying the world – I know that – I'm with you on that, but you were just in Hell, with Lucifer again… that must have been really difficult. It took a lot of balls to do what you did." Dean released a slow breath.

"I thought, you were down there alone again and when I found out you were in Hell, I was about to jail break you the hell out!" Dean rubbed his hand onto his mouth, eyes remembering. "I'm glad you're safe and back here but seeing you locking yourself away in your room and obsessing isn't doing you any good. We need to hunt," Dean chuckled. "I need to friggin' hunt man."

Sam stared at the book in his hands. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to worry about me you know?"

Dean nodded. "I get it. Now, I'm starving. What time is it?"

Sam pulled his dark blue shirt cuff back to check his watch. "It's six to."

Dean clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. "Perfect time for breakfast!" Sam rolled his eyes.

.

Traipsing off to the kitchen to make them some breakfast, Dean noted how low their ingredients were getting. 'Need to get some shopping'. With two plates in each hand piled with a hearty meal, he went into the Library to offer Sam his food but he was gone.

Dean made a run to the store to by some food and some spices (and a huge bag of salt that filled up half of his trolley) for the Bunker. Walking about the "Home" isle in the store, he threw in a couple of cotton blankets in his trolley. His phone began to ring. Pulling his phone from out of his jacket pocket he looked at the caller ID, not recognising the number.

"Who is this? How'd you get this number?"

A cigarette smoke damaged male voice answered. "Hello, I'm Jason Fleming, I, er, a mutual hunter friend of ours named Mackey. He gave me your number. Is this really Dean I'm speaking to?"

Dean looked around. People carried on shopping. A mother pushed a large trolley as a young child repeatedly hopped inside, the collected items bouncing with every jump.

"Yeah. What do you want?"

Jason breathed heavily. "There's a hunt. A bunch of Vampires – about a dozen of them – have taken residence at my farm." Jason choked up. "They,- I live in the middle of nowhere. My wife, they took my wife! I need your help, please."

"Well why can't Mackey do it?"

"He's currently on a hunt of his own. He said you and your brother would be best for the job."

Dean nodded to himself. "Alright. Just send me your address and we'll be on our way."

"I'm staying at a hotel."

"Okay, we'll see you there." Dean ended the call. Vampire hunting was just what he and Sam needed.

At first, going on the hunt seemed like a really awesome idea. A simple hunt to get the brother's out of the Bunker (Sam out of his room), Dean back out there doing what he does best – nothing to do with God or Amara and everything else that came with them; just normal hunting.

It started out great. Jason had sent them the address to the hotel and the number of his room and when they'd arrived he had greeted them very humble and grateful for their help. He had even paid for their room; two king sized beds, everything clean and the room smelled good. Jason showed them a picture of his wife taken from his wallet; staring back at them with a big smile was a pale skinned woman with blue eyes and long dark tresses. He explained as much as he could everything that had happened when the vampires came.

"We were in bed at the time." He rubbed his palms together as he remembered. "I woke up to go the bathroom, went to put my lamp light on and there was this young man – looked round about yous two age – over my wife." He stopped to get a grip of his emotions. "I don't remember how it got into my hand but I do remember pointing my pistol which I usually keep in my bedside drawer at this young man and shooting him straight into the back of his head, but…-".

"He wasn't affected by the bullet." Dean added. Jason nodded in agreement.

"He wasn't and I soon realised he wasn't human. More of them turned up. They taunted me and drank from my wife. I tried to protect her but they where too strong and, you know, I'm no Hunter."

"It's okay. The experts are here now." Dean reassured him.

He smiled sadly and shook his head. "I didn't know how or what to do. I begged for them to take my life instead of Emily's but they told me that my blood was impure. They don't like smoker's blood. I've never felt so frustrated and so defeated in all my life. I didn't protect Emily like I should have." He choked up from bubbling emotion.

"Those animals threw me out of my own window and left me for dead and now I have to hope that Emily's alive." Jason's eyes were filling up. "She has to be; she's all I have in the world!"

"We'll do our best to get her back to you, alright." Sam comforted him.

Jason sniffed and cleared his throat. "Thank you."

"Could you describe to us who you think the ring leader may be?" Sam asked Jason, leaning forward. Dean nodded to Jason for him to answer.

Jason sniffed and one hand rubbed at his lips in thought. "An older woman, I think in her fifties. Tall, sharp Slavic features. She didn't speak much, she just mostly watched, but I remember her saying someone's name and noticing how deep and husky her voice was."

"That's good. It's something to go on."

"Why'd you ask?"

Sam answered. "Being the ring-leader makes her the alpha of the nest. She's the strongest and the fastest of them all. Much more challenging to kill."

.

The brothers gave Jason a machete for protection, told him how to use it and left him at his hotel room to hunt.

Under a late afternoon sky, they drove slowly down the dirt track towards the farm house; they could see the lights on shining through gaps between the curtain windows. Dean stopped the car beside a corn field, making sure the car couldn't be seen from the view of the house. Dean popped open the trunk and they stepped out of the car to get their machetes.

They walked steadily towards the back of the house, trying to keep themselves hidden, their hearts beating with excitement from the hunt. They could see a boarded up window on the top floor; the brother's guessed that may have been they bedroom window where Jason was thrown out from. Just below were a couple piles of old hay and thick bush that hadn't been trimmed for a good while. Jason had been really lucky.

There at the back door a couple of Vampire's were making out with each others faces, wet kissing noises travelled towards the brother's ears. Wasting no time at all, Sam and Dean ambushed the Vampire lovers, effectively cutting their heads off clean. Neither of them had a chance to scream. 'Two down, ten more to go.'

Stepping over the decapitated bodies, Sam checked the back door handle of the farm house to see whether it was already open. It twisted open smoothly. The brother's looked at each other knowingly.

"Alright. On three…" Dean mimed. Sam nodded, body at the ready.

On three they burst through the door. Entering into a kitchen, their presence instantly startled three Vampiric occupants. Sharp teeth bared they threw themselves at the brothers attacking with super strength and sharp nails. One female Vampire punched Dean in the gut, making him double over from the pain. He was momentarily blinded; the punch had instantaneously forced the oxygen out of his lungs and it left him gasping for air. Through teary eyes, he could see her head fall to the ground before him. The top of her head from the forehead-up was missing. Dean felt Sam's large hand rest onto his shoulder.

"You okay?" Sam asked, concerned.

Dean slowly stood up straight, exhaled loudly and bunched up his sore abs. "Yeah, I'll be fine." Three corpses where slain on the ground and Sam was already running off to kill some more. None of them was Emily Fleming.

"Come on!" Sam's voice boomed.

Dean followed.

Three more Vampire's came running down the stairs as the brothers entered a hallway that lead to a Living room and the front door. Dean made sure to slice one of the heads off before they managed to take a swing. Taking another swing at a male Vampire, he managed to slice into its chest.

"Close, but not close enough." It sneered, mouth full of teeth. "I'm gonna bathe in your blood, human." It leapt. Dean made a quick move to the side, spun round and plunged his machete into its stomach. Dean stared unwaveringly into its eyes as it gurgled on its own blood.

"You think you've killed me?"

"No."

Dean pulled the machete out and with one swift move sliced the head off its shoulders. The body instantly collapsed to the ground following its fallen head. The Vampire's brown eyes moved around in its sockets.

"Gross."

Looking around, he realised he was alone. He traipsed up the stairs, hoping that

he was following his brother's footsteps, walked across the top landing and searched all four of the rooms. One of them was obviously Jason and Emily's bedroom. Walking in, instantly he could see the broken window. A couple of their wedding photos lined the walls, two others were of Jason standing beside a large chocolate stallion. Another was of a woman with Emily's smile and skin standing with a man who had his arm around her shoulders posing before the Eiffel Tower in Paris. The bed sheets were left askew with large blood stains; Cigarette butts, clothes, shoes and other items had been thrown about the room and left all over the floor. Analysing the furnishings of the bedroom, Dean could see that at some point the room had been a place of comfort. 'Vampire's have no respect.' Not finding his brother he jogged down the stairs and made for a door. Stepping towards the Living room door which was now not only closed, but locked, he could hear keening sounds coming from behind it. Someone was also bawling. Dean banged a fist on the door loudly.

"Sam? You in there?" he asked. No one answered him back. Now someone was begging.

"What the hell's going on in there?" Dean shouted. He bashed away at the door with his shoulder, but it wouldn't budge. He stopped to catch a breath and then started to slam his right foot into the door. Crunching noises were made as the wood of the door attached to its frame began to split.

"Come on, come on." Dean coaxed. With one final slam the door swung open fast and slammed onto the Living room wall.

There was blood literally everywhere. It covered the walls; the ceiling had splatters of it. A rug was saturated with liquid iron. A Vampire was half on a sofa and half on the ground with most of the skin from the torso and face stripped off. Dean stepped over towards it and noticed that it looked like it was made to eat its own skin. The neck had a jagged line through it from where it had been sliced, but a piece of muscle kept it attached to the body. Dean cut it and the rest of its body slipped down further to the floor.

"Sam?" he called. He walked passed another two dead decapitated bodies, none of which fit the description of either the ring leader or Emily Fleming's features. Both of their bodies had been hacked repeatedly to the point he could see their destroyed insides coming out. Broken bones on almost every part of the body jutted out through the flesh. Dean began to sweat; worried that he would find his brother the same way.

"Sam! Answer me!"

Holding his machete up, he could hear a "thumping" sound and Dean made his way towards it. Rounding a dark corner of the living room where a small dining table sat, there he found his brother stabbing repeatedly with his machete on an already dead body. It was made unrecognisable.

"Sam, what the hell are you doing?" Grabbing at his brother's arm with both hands to stop him from making another jab, Sam strained to pull out of the grip. His brother's eyes were dark. Distant. Dean recognised the look.

"Sam just stop! It's done, they're all dead!"

Dean watched with wide eyes as his brother breathed raggedly, releasing his hold on the machete. It "clinked" onto the floorboards.

"You good?" Dean asked worriedly. He observed his brother's clothes which were saturated in Vampire blood and pieces of body flesh.

Sam rubbed at the bicep and began to nod. "I will be. Just give me a minute." It sounded like he had to force the words out.

Dean stepped away and looked around the room and realised that Sam had been the one that tortured and destroyed the Vampire's to death. Dean felt real fear for his brother right then. This was overkill.

...

Dean was really scared. He'd dealt with angry-grieving-vengeful Sam, Sam with powers, deceptive Sam, addicted to Demon blood Sam, soulless Sam, suicidal Sam, mental breakdown Sam but he had never dealt with murderous-overkill Sam. Dean was out of his depth.

The destroyed body of Sam's last victim was the female ring-leader; that much Sam could say to Dean. Afterwards they separated, looking around the premises for Emily; the whole house (also making sure to check for any stragglers), they walked about the grounds, the large barn, startling the horses with their torches. All they had found in the end was a thick rope that had seemingly been used to tie someone up and had been cut into with a rusty saw sitting on the dirty floor of an old mouldy shed. The shed wall also had a broken opening, the attached wood shards bending outwards. Maybe this had been the last place Emily had been. In the end they gave up the search and dealt with the bodies.

The brothers dug a large trench making a mass grave and threw the dead Vamps in, stacked dry kindling and wood around the bodies (all from Jason's outside store), poured salt and gasoline on them and set light to the corpses. The flames kept them warm from the night chill.

.

It was the morning; light in the sky gradually coming in from the East. The brothers were on their way back to the hotel to meet Jason.

Sam sat with his body tense, sitting with clean emergency clothes on (which they always took with them on a hunt) having burned the severely bloodied ones. They hadn't said a single word to each other, Dean not ready to broach the subject that was on the tip of his tongue about his brother's mental state and Sam was just trying to quieten his mind from the stress of what he'd done.

Fifteen minutes through their journey, a person hobbled onto the road. Dean instinctively stomped on the brakes and the car skidded to a halt. The brother's heavy breathed from the shock of almost knocking someone over. They stared at the shivering wreck through the windshield mirror and realised they were staring into the frightened eyes of Jason's wife, Emily, wrapped up in a thick purple blanket.

"Please, I need help." She pleaded, hoarsely.

Both brother's stepped out of the car. 'Thank God'. Dean thought. Sam had his right hand hiding behind his side.

"We know who you are, Emily. Your husband sent us to help you." Dean put his hands out to show he wasn't a threat. Dean looked over at Sam whose eyes never wavered from Emily. Predator-like. 'Creepy.'

"Are you alright? How long have you been here?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure." Emily looked back from where she came. "They – those things – they, they tied up my wrists and locked me in the tool shed for hours, cutting me. I was so afraid." She sniffed and her eyes leaked. "Is Jason okay?" She asked, scared.

Dean nodded, confirming his safety. "Yes, he's doing alright. He's mostly worried about you. How did you escape?"

"I used the tools in the shed to cut the rope from my wrists." She pulled the blanket around herself tighter. "Then I smashed a hole in the shed wall. Its old damp wood and I wanted to survive… then I ran and I didn't stop 'till I couldn't see the farm no more."

Dean took a step forward. "That's good – you did good. Did any of them bite you anywhere?"

She looked down, frowning. Then she nodded. "Yes. On my throat. Why? Is it bad? Am I infected – did they infect me?"

Dean's eyes quickly glanced at Sam then back to Emily's. "It's okay, calm down… Were you fed?"

She looked between the brothers, scared and confused. "What?"

"Did they feed you blood?" Sam asked.

Dean could see in his peripheral Sam inch closer. "I don't know. It tasted like blood." She started to cry. "I tried to stop them but they wouldn't. They were too strong. Everything is so loud and too bright. I need to be with Jason."

Dean assured her with a lie. "You will, you will."

"Are you thirsty?" Sam asked.

She nodded fast and jerkily. "Yes. I'm so thirsty. I drank water from a small stream out here… but it didn't quench the thirst." She sobbed.

The brothers looked at each other knowingly.

"I'm sorry." Sam said to her and before she could ask why he instantly lobbed her head clean off. Blood spurted out from the stump as the torso collapsed heavily to the ground.

'Great! Another dead body and a grieving spouse to deal with.' Dean thought.

It had been very difficult for the brother's to tell Jason what had happened to Emily. Instantly, when he opened the door to his Hotel room for the brother's and saw their defeated faces, he knew he'd be getting bad news; though knowing hadn't made the finality of their word's about his wife's death any less difficult to hear.

"It was too late for her; she'd already been turned into one of them." Jason kept the tears at bay with great resolve, even when they explained leaving her corpse hidden behind the bank parallel to the road, left for him to decide what to do with Emily's body.

"It's better this way. She would never have wanted to become some monster." He looked at the brothers with teary eyes.

They told him about the crime scene he'd have to clean up at the farm house and the products to use to really clean up the stains and then they left him on his own to go to their own room.

.

As soon as the brother's stepped foot into their hotel room, they instantly realised how exhausted they were. Whilst Sam got cleaned up in the shower, Dean went downstairs into the breakfast hall to grab them something to eat and drink.

Both cleaned up from the hunt and fed, they cleansed and blessed their machete's, closed the window curtains and slept.

"How did it feel?" Lucifer asked with surly lips.

"I'm not doing this with you. Get out of my head!" Sam shouted.

Lucifer pressed on. "It felt good didn't it? Knowing you – knowing me, you probably blacked out. That good, hmm?"

"Those Vamps were evil but they didn't deserve what I did to them!"

Sam stayed as far away from Lucifer in the cage as he could. Some reason, Adam was sitting in one corner staring into space.

"Why am I here?" Sam demanded. Lucifer clasped his hands together and sighed.

"As you can see, I'm stuck here with your pathetic half brother. Michael's not here to mess with and you're all the fun there is. You also do have a special token of mine, one that I want to hone into good use."

Sam's brows furrowed. "What are you talking about—?" Touching his arm absentmindedly he realised what Lucifer was referring to. 'Oh'. "The Mark."

"Yes."

Sam took a step forward and held out his arm. "Take it back, I don't want it! It's dangerous!"

"No can do, Sammy."

Sam huffed in frustration. "Can't or won't?"

Lucifer smirked. "Which do you think?"

Sam let out a frustrated sigh and turned away from Lucifer. He pulled at his hair.

"I've been doing a lot of research about your sword. There aren't in any of the text's I've found and what Castiel found about the Darkness. I can't find anything!"

"Tell Castiel. He can go places you can't." Sam shook his head angrily.

"I already told you I'm not bringing Castiel into this!"

Lucifer rolled his tongue on his teeth. "Fine. If you don't want to ask my little fallen Angel for help, that's up to you. And it really is up to you."

"What do mean?" Sam turned back around to face Lucifer.

Lucifer nodded knowingly at Sam. "You know."

Sam hung his head. "I can't."

"Can't or won't?" Lucifer asked stepping towards him. "Listen. I will be your guide pointing you in the right direction."

"No!"

"I'm an Angel Sam - I'm not some demonic skank. Ruby doesn't know my precious like I do."

Sam glimpsed at his brother. Adam blinked sluggishly a couple times and then gurgled. Blood bubbled at the corner of his lips but he remained still, seated on the hard cold ground.

"I said no!"

"You'll come round soon. Great minds think alike." Lucifer walked over to Adam and petted his hair. He looked up staring straight at Sam, his eyes ablaze. "Wake up, Sam."

.

"Wake up, Sam."

Sam heard his brother speak. Sitting up, he rubbed his face. Lucifer's glowing eyes were imprinted into his psyche. Looking around the room, his eyes landed upon his brother who was seated on a wooden chair facing towards him with his arms crossed.

"You awake?" Dean asked. Sam couldn't tell what mood his brother was in.

Sam yawned and swung his legs from out of the bed.

"You okay?" Sam asked, testing the waters.

Dean huffed and looked down at his lap, then back at his brother.

"I don't know how to answer that, Sammy." His voice wavered fractionally. Sam's attention was fully on his brother after hearing that.

"Sammy, something is really wrong here. With you." He shook his head. "What you did to those Vamps… is it Hell?"

Sam's body instantly tensed. He was afraid of how his brother would react if he were to know the truth. But then if he didn't tell Dean then all he'd have to talk to would be Lucifer. Not only couldn't he go through that again, but also this time it would be much, so much worse because he was real and not a creation from a post-traumatized mind and soul.

"No Dean. It's not Hell." He replied, cautiously. Taking a deep breath he rolled up his right arm sleeve. The bulk of the sleeve sat into his armpit.

"Then what is it Sam? You're freaking me out here!" Dean sat forward, elbows resting onto his knees.

Sam stood up and showed Dean his bicep. He watched the many emotions that shifted across his brother's face. Dean was stopped on mortified.

Dean stood up. "How the hell did you get that? Wait, it was Lucifer wasn't it?" Dean breathed heavily.

"How did you know?" Sam asked.

"It's pretty obvious that Lucifer is the only other that could give you the Mark since Amara's not around and you we're last with him. Did you ask for this?" Dean was suddenly angry with him.

Sam became angry from such a question. "Of course I didn't!"

"Then why did he give it to you?"

"Believe it or not, he gave it to me to defeat Amara. He wants to help!"

Dean rubbed at his face. "This cannot be happening right now. This is crazy! This Mark will destroy Sam, you get that right?" Dean walked around his chair and went to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He gulped it in one. "Did you ask him to get rid of it at all?"

"How crazy do you think I am Dean? Of course I did! He said no." Sam rubbed at the Mark and Dean watched him.

"God I should have known. I thought you had a nervous tick. The Mark is like a constant itch. I rubbed at it all the time." Dean shook his head. "It's gonna get worse."

Sam sniffed and looked at the ground. "That's not all."

Dean laughed humourlessly. "Of course it's not."

"Lucifer can get into my head whenever he wants."

"Oh great! This just gets better and better! When were you even gonna tell me all this, huh? When it was too late?"

Sam hung his head. He should have known that Dean wouldn't have taken the news about the Mark well. When his brother was angry at him, he knew it was because he was actually afraid for him. 'Hopefully not of him too'. Three small but firm taps hit the door to their room, breaking the awkward silence between the brothers. Dean went to open the door after checking through the peephole.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you or anything." Jason asked Dean as he opened the door.

"No, we only just woke up. Come on in." Dean reassured him and stepped aside. Jason walked into the room. Dean shut the door and offered him a seat.

"No, thanks, I'm not staying long. I just came over to say that I'm grateful for what you young men have done for me." Jason cleared his throat. "My brother, he's actually the sheriff 'round here, and ah, I called him. told him about what happened, so he knows. He encountered a ghost before – it's how we met Mackey. Anyway, he's gonna help keep my name clean and out of the papers, for you know… for Emily's death." Dean nodded, pleased for the guy.

"That's great. Your brother is really sticking his neck out for you."

Jason nodded sadly. "He sure is. I'm lucky to have him."

The brothers said their final goodbyes to Jason and Dean closed the door behind him. The awkward atmosphere was back. The digital clock on the bedside table flicked to 5:45 PM, the glow printed onto Sam's lenses. Dean finally broke the silence.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten angry at you. It's not your fault for what Lucifer done."

Sam shook his head. "You don't need be sorry."

"No Sam, I do. You were there for me when I had the Mark. I mean, I'm getting on my high horse but at the end of the day, I chose to take it. You didn't." Dean walked over to Sam's bed and sat next to him. "I'm gonna help you get through this. Who else better than me, right?"

Sam huffed. "I don't know how. With the Vamps, I totally blacked out. What if I do the same to you? I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"You will Sam, you'll know what to do. You just need to listen to me and I'll guide you through it."

Sam's brows furrowed and his heart began to beat faster. Lucifer had said the same words to him. Was he still dreaming? "It's you isn't it? Lucifer? I told you to get out of my head!"

Dean watched as Sam instantly stood up and backed away from him. "Sam?"

"You're pretending to be Dean. I'm not gonna fall for it!"

Dean stood up. "Sam, you need to calm down!"

Dean could see the Mark starting to glow on his brother's arm. Sam was breathing heavily and it was plain to see that no matter what he said, Sam wasn't going to be calming down. 'Okay'. Dean walked over to Sam and punched him square in the jaw, instantly knocking him out. His brother dropped and Dean caught his fall. Hoisting him from the armpits, Dean dragged his brother and threw his body onto his bed.

"I told you, I'm gonna help you Sammy."

Dean picked up a pizza leaflet and called the Delivery number.

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So, what do you think? Please tell me your thoughts. Thanks!