* Chapter 3: Taken *

Castiel made it to the bedroom just in time to see Sam crumple to his knees. Castiel stood in the doorway, panting slightly. Sam was by the bed, holding a pillow in his hands, face buried into it. Castiel could not hear Sam crying, but he could see the man's body trembling. He entered the room, walked straight over to Sam, and placed his hand tenderly on Sam's left shoulder, squeezing it lightly. Sam either did not notice that he was there, or he did not care. The trembling continued. Castiel scanned the room from where he stood, taking note that the personal effects that were present the last time he was here were now nowhere to be seen. He narrowed his eyes and looked down at Sam.

"This is Dean's bedroom?"

Sam looked up at Castiel from his position on the floor, and Castiel removed his hand from Sam's shoulder. Sam's eyes were bloodshot and the rawness Castiel could see reflected in them was emphasized by the pallor of his face. Sam's lower lip quivered and his hands shook as he offered the pillow to the angel standing over him. Castiel took the object from Sam, returning him a puzzled look.

"Just smell it Cas."

Castiel raised the damp pillow to his face and inhaled. A mixture of scents entered his nostrils, kicking his keen senses into overdrive. Castiel detected a salty odor, mostly likely from tears and sweat, but there was something else was there too, lingering in the pores of the fabric. He could just about identify it – Eggs. More specifically, rotten eggs. He looked down at Sam.

"Sulfur."

Sam nodded slowly. Castiel's arms dropped, and he released the pillow from his grip. Sam picked it up again, rose from the floor, and placed it back onto Dean's bed. Sam crossed his arms, and turned to face Castiel.

"What do you think this means?"

Castiel's eyes narrowed. So many potential answers were flying through his head – None of them good. "I don't know Sam. Did you find anything else in your search?"

"No. I only just remembered the smell, but I don't think I overlooked anything else. I examined the bunker from top to bottom, and I didn't find a thing. Nothing, Cas. It's like he just vanished into thin air. There's just that." Sam nodded in the direction of the pillow.

Castiel crouched down, and spread his fingers over a space alongside Dean's bed. "Eliminate all other factors, and the one which remains must be the truth."

"Did you just quote Sherlock Holmes?" asked Sam, raising an eyebrow.

Castiel rose. "I'm very pop culture sa—"

"Yeah, I get it Cas," Sam interjected. "But what do you mean? Do you think–" he cleared his throat, "Do you think a demon took Dean?"

"All signs point towards exactly that."

Sam gave an exasperated sigh, and ran his fingers through his hair. "How? I mean, this place is warded from the ground up."

Castiel crossed the width of the room, concentration etched on his face. He touched the wall adjacent to the door. He hoped to detect a hidden entrance, anything that would explain how Dean's body was removed from the room. It was certainly unusual for a demon to be able to enter – and exit – a building that had this amount of warding, but it wasn't exactly impossible, especially if the demon in question had been summoned. He turned to face Sam.

"Did you summon Crowley?"

Sam's eyebrows furrowed, his mouth turned down. "What are you saying Cas? You think that Crowley took Dean's…?"

"So you did summon him."

"I tried to Cas, but he never showed."

Castiel had not heard of this happening before, but Crowley was no regular demon, he was the King of Hell. Castiel could see Sam's mind considering the significance of his actions. He wanted to comfort the younger Winchester, but he knew that nothing he could say would make Sam feel any better. Sam sat down on the edge of Dean's bed, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Cas…Do you think that has anything to do with the Mark of Cain?"

"Perhaps."

"What do you know about the Mark?"

"Not much. The scriptures say that Lucifer branded Cain with the Mark after he killed his brother, Abel, with the First Blade. Cain became the Father of Murder, and the first Knight of Hell."

"What happens to the Mark when the bearer dies? Cain passed it on to Dean, but he was alive when he did that. Could someone simply take it from Dean now that he's—he's gone?"

"I'm unsure. Cain might know the answer to that," Castiel said, rubbing his chin. "Or Metatron."

"You want to talk to Metatron?" Sam asked through gritted teeth.

"We may not have any other choice. Dean's body is missing, and we don't know who took it, or why."

Castiel saw a shudder ripple through Sam at the mention of his brother's body, and he immediately regretted his choice of words. Castiel's own heart ached with grief for the deceased Winchester, but he knew the pain he felt was not a match for Sam's agony.

Sam stood sharply. "Well, we know who to start with. And it's not Metatron."

Castiel nodded and followed Sam out of the bedroom. Silence fell between them as they made their way to the bunker's dungeon. Castiel knew that this was where Sam and Dean had held Crowley in a Devil's Trap – an ancient sigil used to snare demons – for an extended period of time earlier in the year. Castiel couldn't help but think about the summoning that Sam attempted earlier, and what it suggested about Crowley's abilities. He wondered if Crowley was somehow able to manipulate the ritual and maneuver himself into Dean's bedroom, away from the dungeon. He hoped that was not a possibility, but once upon a time he didn't think the Gates of Heaven could be closed either. The last thing humanity needed was Crowley getting his hands on Dean's body – especially now it bore the Mark of Cain.

Together, the two men opened the heavy door to the cell that contained the Devil's Trap. Castiel noted a second sigil marked the floor in front of the cell's Devil Trap, and a small bowl sat in the middle of the chalk markings. An assortment of herbs lay floating in the container with, what Castiel assumed to be, a mixture of Dean's and Sam's blood. Three black candles formed a triangle around the bowl, and a few books of ancient incantations sat nearby, alongside a wooden box containing jars of herbs. Sam squatted, pulled a small box from his pocket and reached inside. Castiel bent down and grabbed Sam's arm, stopping him from creating a flame, the trigger for the summoning.

"Sam, what happened to the First Blade?"

Castiel crouched down beside Sam. The distraught Winchester looked down at the match in between his fingers, trying to focus.

"I don't…I don't remember. After Dean—" Sam closed his eyes and swallowed, "After Dean died, I just…I don't remember Cas."

Castiel released Sam from his grip. Sam struck the match on the side of the box. A flame erupted and began dancing in front of Sam's face.

"Et ad congregandum...eos coram me."

Sam dropped the match into the bowl. They both stood, stepped back, and watched as the blood and herbs were reignited. A figure appeared in front of them.

"Hello Moose. Angel boy."