Hey there fair readers! It has been forever since I last updated, but I really wanted to make this chapter a good one for all of you! I have been really busy these past few weeks, and sadly getting time to just type has been few and far between. What with school being almost over and assignments piling up… But I am glad to have finished this chapter.

I really wanted to flesh out Cain's backstory in this chapter. I really wish they could use Cain more in the show instead of his mark, so in this chapter I went in depth with his history. I hope you all enjoy it!

And after you read, maybe you'd like to review? I'm not enforcing it, I'm just suggesting *nudge, nudge, wink, wink*

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Now on with the story!

The Mark of Cain: Chapter 10

Sunbeams strike the back of a man toiling his day away in the fields. The land around him is barren except for the tiny patch of greens his family has been able to cultivate and care into harvest. His last eighteen years of life has been spent digging, planting, and caring for the land beneath him. It was his and his alone. His father passed this duty onto him when he came of age, on his sixteenth birthday. He remembers the days he would watch his father working the field, shaping it to fit his needs. Sitting with his brother under the shade of the rock outcropping that surrounds their dwelling. It is a perfect camp, hidden in the rocks, yet with enough light to allow life to grow. His brother would get the most shade, needing it to protect his fair skin. He made sure he got what he needed, looking out for him since he was born,

The man uncurls from his position and wipes the beads of sweat on his forehead. He looks over to where his brother stands, tending to the flocks. A smile cannot help but appear on his face. Whenever he sees his brother, being the kind soul he is, he gets a little boost of pride in his soul. He raised him to act like that. Whenever father was too busy working towards God's forgiveness and their mother was muttering herself into dreamless sleep, it was up to him to watch over him. Being the youngest two, they had a special bond. Being four years elder, he had still had time to be a kid before he had to give it up to become the adult his brother needed.

The weight in his hand reminds him of the job he has to continue. It is a spade, carved from the jaw bone of an animal. On his sixteenth birthday, his father handed this to him with the simple instructions that it was his turn now. And he did not want to disappoint. The only two rules he lived by were instilled by his father from birth: "keep the land fertile for all" and "protect your brother, Cain."

"Cain!" he hears his brother calling his name. He sees Abel standing on the edge of the field, arms outstretched, flocks following him. The best shepherd he's known (granted he only knows ten other people). "I'm going out with the sheep for a little bit," he shouts, "I'll be back soon!" He turns without waiting for an answer.

"Just be back before supper!" Cain yells back, laughing at Abel's excitable nature. He returns to work the field for the remainder of the day. Just as the sun is starting to hide behind the cliffs, his father is yelling for his children to gather. They all assemble, each one going into the house. Adam was a fruitful man, yet each child drove Eve further into madness, muttering about how the outside world was too dangerous for her babies.

As Cain was about to enter the threshold, his father places a hand on his chest. "Cain," he says, voice stern, "where is Abel?"

Cain looks back to the fences where the sheep usually are. "You mean he has not returned?"

Adam gives Cain a harsh look. "Apparently not, now go get him before it gets too dark for the both of you to return."

Cain nods then goes out in search of his wandering sibling. Adam has always been tough on his children, setting strict rules and expectations for them to keep. Ever since getting ejected from the garden, Adam has tried to live his life as far from sin as he could. He only looks at Eve when they produce for the Lord, but even then he tries to limit to only when it is inescapable. He tries to set a good example for his offspring, to worship the Lord and live up to his wishes he had for the human race. To withdraw from temptation, and only get by with what you have. Do not lust for more than you have, or you will end up falling ever farther from his grace. Adam decides to wait for the brothers inside, trusting they will return in one piece.

Cain makes his way through the brisk twilight. He's always thought that this time of day was the most magical, truly allowing all of God's creation to be appreciated. Nothing looked bad in this light. Not truly day, yet not truly night: everything is caught in this in-between state. 'The perfect example of humanity,' Cain thought, 'not fully in God's light, but still not forgotten in his shadow.'

His nose starts to itch, and he smells smoke: a fire? But it is not fully dark yet? Cain's eyebrows draw down in confusion as he continues on his path, his feet kicking up dust with each step he takes. He pads his way down the path until he finds the source of the fire: his brother frolicking near it with a little ewe. His confusion flies away, only to be replaced with a warmth as strong as the blazing fire silhouetting Abel.

Abel has always been kind to animals. Since he could walk, he's been the kindest creature towards them. Adam said he gets that from Eve, before she cursed them to mortality. How she would frolic with the animals in Eden, yet now the only creatures she dances with are the ones in her mind. Cain can only feel the pride a father feels as he watches Abel play with the small farm animal. He knows he has to bring him home, but he does not want to interrupt this moment. Not yet. He'll just stand there and enjoy the moment. Abel is following the lamb, swerving as it swerves, zigs when it zags. They are playing a game of chase, and it looks like Abel is winning.

Abel picks up the ewe from the dirt-laden ground.

He nuzzles the soft little lamb under his chin.

He kisses the lamb right at its neck…

Before his teeth go straight into its jugular, ripping its throat out, spitting it from his mouth, and feasting on the flowing blood that pours from the gaping wound.

Cain is too startled to react, frozen in time as he watches his sweet brother devour one of God's heavenly creatures, sucking the life from its eyes before throwing the carcass into the flames. He has gone cold, and not even the warmth of the pyre as it grows in volume can cure him of his frigidity. Black smoke starts to rise of the fire, in a column. It's thicker than the usual smoke, and Cain cannot help but get the sudden instinct of evil. It's heading straight towards Abel, and that is when he can finally move again. He pushes Abel out of the way, pushing him behind him as he drags out the tool he still has in his possession.

"Cain! What are you doing!" Abel shouts, annoyance in his eyes while his blood-soaked mouth forms a snarl. Each tooth is stained with innocent blood. "Why are you stopping destiny?"

"Destiny?" Cain scoffs, "Abel you were about to be consumed by this… monstrosity!"

"Monstrosity?" a voice whispers, "that's a bit… harsh… don't you think?"

"Who said that?" Cain shouts to the wind. His eyes flit around, until they land on the smoke still billowing in front of them. He has no proof… but his heart is telling him that the smooth voice is coming from that despicable cloud.

"My Lord, my savior, my destiny," Abel answers reverently, "Lucifer!"

Cain's eyes widen in disbelief. He knows that horrid name. When he was younger, his father would gather each one of them around the fire and tell the tales of God's glory. One such story was that of the fallen angel, Lucifer, the wicked tempter who could not accept God's desire to create mankind.

"Abel?" Cain asks, "Do you not know the evil Lucifer is capable of? All the stories father has told us-"

"Screw father!" Abel shouts, his language surprising Cain, "he is a blind fool, too busy looking into God's light that he misses what is truly happening around him! He does not care for us… for you… for me. Why should I stay here and suffer for a God that is never here!"

"Do not speak such blasphemy!" Cain interrupts, only to be pushed back by Abel's continuing tirade.

"It is not blasphemy, it is the truth! Lucifer tells me the truth, the whispers that he still hears from Heaven. How God has left them, leaving them with Michael to lead them, Metatron to educate them, Raphael to judge them, and this strange little one… Castiel… being the last one God has touched! Heaven is in chaos, there is no more God, only Lucifer!"

Abel has this frantic look about him, crazy in his eyes, the fire dancing behind him gives him this demonic look. This is not the brother Cain knows, the boy he raised for fourteen years. His eyes water and he sinks to his knees as his brother starts to walk towards the tunnel of evil that beckons him.

"Stop this Abel!" Cain says in a last-ditch effort, "This is not you…"

"Cain, this has always been me."

That was the final nail in the coffin. Cain could not believe what he was hearing. He tore his gaze from his brother and towards the demon. "You did this!" he growls, eyes full of hatred and anger. He rushes the creature, weapon swinging, and flings himself into the black mist.

"You brave fool," Lucifer hisses, "you must really love your brother if you are willing to go to your death to do it."

"If it will save him, I will sacrifice myself seven times to do so."

"Your loyalty astounds me," the creature admits, "so much that I have come up with an offer. One you cannot afford to refuse…"

Cain stops swinging, his gaze wary in the thick midnight he finds himself in. "What do you have that I want, demon?"

"Your brother..."

Lucifer has his full attention.

"I will not take Abel as my vessel, fulfill his destiny if… you come to Hell with me…"

Cain's eyes widen. Is he willing to pay that big a price for his brother… he doesn't even have to think it over. The answer is obvious. "I will," Cain agrees, "and if I do this, Abel will go back to how he was before?"

"I never said that…" Lucifer admits, "everything he has done so far has been his choice, not mine. He's fallen under evil's sway… and it is hard to escape from its pull."

Would his sacrifice even matter then? He will save Abel to do what… continue his path down damnation. Lucifer would still have him, just at a later date. His mind goes into overdrive, trying to find a way out of it.

"I will go with you…" Cain starts, "if you can assure that Abel will never go to Hell. Never fall into your sway. That he will go to Heaven."

"I don't think I can promise that…"

"IT IS EITHER THAT OR NOTHING, BEAST!"Cain shouts, finally past his limit with dealing with Lucifer.

"It is a deal."

A flash of lightning pulses through the cloud, sending a spike of energy right at Cain. He tries to block it with his tool, yet it takes the energy, absorbs it. It sends the pulse right into his arm. His body convulses as a searing pain shoots through his body, finally stopping. He is back to normal, except for the scar left on his arm.

"What is this?" Cain asks.

"It signifies the deal. Your blade and that mark have been touched by evil, and now you belong to me. You said you would sacrifice yourself for seven times… and, well, inspiration struck me."

"And my end of the deal, demon?"

"Abel will go to Heaven," Lucifer says, "but only if you kill him at this moment. Any longer and his soul will be tainted so much that he will burn with the others in Hell."

Cain cannot believe how foolish he has been. He has played right into Lucifer's hands, and now… he must complete his end of the bargain. Cain cannot kill Abel, he loves his brother too much. But the monster that is growing inside of his brother is not Abel… and if it continues to grow his brother will be nothing but a memory. He tightens his grip on the blunt object.

"It shall be done," Cain says, and the last part of him that held hope died in that black cloud. He emerged from the thick cloud.

"You are still alive, brother?" Abel asks, bewildered.

"I am," Cain says, "and everything shall be alright, Abel."

Cain moves toward his brother, engulfing him in a hug.

"Cain?" Abel asks, scared at how silent his brother is, how cold he is.

"Shh, shh," Cain shushes, "everything is going to be fine. You are going to be fine, safe. Just… know that I love you, Abel."

"I love you too, Cain, but what is-"

A loud crack.

Dust disturbed by a falling figure.

Silent sobs.

And Cain is dragged to the depths of Hell by Lucifer.

He has no idea how long he's been in this hell-hole: literally and figuratively. Hooks pull at his skin daily, and it seems like every day, sometimes every hour, Lucifer has whipped up some new form of torture. Lucifer baits him with release every day, and each day his will weakens.

He gives in after what seems like an eternity.

He gave in after twenty years.

Lucifer cradled his broken soul in his claws, as the once bright life transformed into the black smoke of his tormentors. He was taught the ways of his captors: to torture, to steal, to smite. He rose through the ranks, fast becoming a high-level demon.

It was during an important mission that he realized his calling. He, along with a few other demons and Lucifer were on a mission. Michael was going to choose a human to start a new covenant with, and they were going to kill him before the angels got to him. They could see the man Abraham, and his wife Ruth, traversing the dusty fields towards their wedding tent, where they would spend the first two weeks of their marriage in isolation from the rest of the world. The day was quiet. Too quiet.

The flap closes, and the two are nestled quietly as they prepare their first night together. That is when they will strike. The demons get ready. One to his right, a low-level henchman he did not care to learn the name of is muttering something. He's a new demon, excited, and ready to prove.

Too bad the angel blade that pierces his meat-suit's chest squashes that chance. It was an ambush, the angels outnumbering them two-to-one. It's a bloodbath. He's stabbing and slicing and destroying any angel that dares to get close to him. His comrades have worse luck. He's made a wide berth in his path, surrounded by blood, when he notices an angel on his way towards Lucifer. Lucifer is too busy holding off three other angels to defend. He knows he should have let that angel stab the King of Hell, end his suffering, revenge for the pain he's caused. Yet that would have been the before-Cain's wishes. This new Cain, this broken man, a shell of his former self… throws himself in front of the onslaught and slashes the surprised angel straight across the throat.

Lucifer finishes off the other three and quickly turns around to address him. "We have to fall back, we will never win." In clouds of black smoke the remaining demons fled back to the fiery pits from once they came. They regroup, and it's only a small rag tag group of demons left from the devastating blow.

"That was unacceptable!" Lucifer shouts to the crowd, "How could they known our plans! This sets our plan back a century-fold!" He stops and turns to Cain, "However… this tragedy has given me a good idea."

"What I need is a specially trained group of warriors, ruthless, sacrificing, ready to kill on my command. And I believe this massacre has culled the ranks to show who is worthy of joining these ranks." His hand clasps Cain's shoulder. "And I want Cain, the man who saved my life, to lead this new group. My warriors, my weapons, my… Knights of Hell. We begin in the morning."

He turns on his vessel's heel out the room, and the group starts to disperse. Cain stays still in the center, thoughts flying about his head like flocks of birds flying south for winter. He could have gotten his revenge. Could have paid Lucifer back for all he did to him, to Abel, to the world. But he didn't. Why could he not do what he wanted to do so long ago?

A caress of the back startles him out of his thoughts. He looks into a pair of hazel eyes, bright against dark tan skin, and jet black hair. "You were really… good out there."

"Thank you?" Cain replies, unaccustomed to demons complimenting one another, "But I only did what I was created to do."

"Even still what you did was very… thrilling. It sent heat coursing through my body…" Her hand starts to travel downwards from her breasts to her forbidden area, the only thing keeping her hand from fully touching being the thin cloth separating skin from skin. "And I want to share this heat with you…"

Cain is surprised. He's never been in this situation before. His father has preached chastity and modesty for as long as he can remember. "What is your name?"

"Abbadon," the female purrs. She starts to slink away, "and follow me if you want some of this fire."

He's never done this. For all the time he's been alive he has been as pure as the day he was born. But does that really matter now that he is done here? As his mind searches for a response, his mind screaming no but his body screaming yes. What would be the harm in giving into his desires?

And that is when he realizes why he let Lucifer live. It's the same reason why he is willing to sleep with this total stranger: he is a different person, no… a demon. Everything that was him died on the chains, and when Lucifer broke him he reassembled him into his image. His once held thoughts and rules are twisted, ruined, tainted. His father's warnings of purity no longer matter, said to a different him eons ago. He has no one to judge him, no one to disapprove. He can give into his wildest fantasies without any fear of punishment. Cain's pupils dilate, his grin turning feral, and he follows Abbadon towards where he will finally strip away the final piece of purity he still has.

Like that is special.

His days are spent training corps of demons in tactics and maneuvers.

His nights are spent in passion with Abbadon.

She has been at his side for the longest time: second-in-command in his clan of warriors. Her skill is far better than any other demon, but still short compared to his and the big bad himself. Their peons are loyal to them, ready to raze, maim, and destroy at a moment's notice.

While also ruthless she is tender, able to caress and fulfill every need and touch a person desires. Her sexual prowess knows no bounds. The added bonus of sexual escapade locations also adds to the mood: in the great floods that swept the Earth, the burning of Rome, the first sexual revolution (the Renaissance, who would have figured). And after each and every passionate moment they shared, they would relax. He'd pull the human-skin blanket closer to his body, she'd light a severed finger and pull a long drag. Good times never seemed so good…

But then, the angels declared war. They caught wind to Lucifer's troop movements, and decided to launch the first strike. The demons retaliated, and decided the best course of action was to take this fight to the human world. Demons would take-over bodies, as would the angels, and America was split: the Civil War began! The history books may say that the war was started over slavery or states' rights, but the real reason brother would fight brother was over the simple fact of control over the souls.

Cain and Abbadon, as well as three other generals, sat in an office as Lucifer (in Jefferson Davis's body) went over battle strategies. "So we attack this place at dawn," he said, "intel says that the gracies are bringing their army near Manassas." As he went deeper into his plan, Cain was playing half-attention. He was disguised as a subordinate, Lucifer's plan to hide his best men among the hordes of lower demons. He was trying his hardest to pay attention, but Abbadon, disguised as a nurse, was playing a torturous game of "how high can I slide my hand up Cain's thigh?" She cannot control her libido, and the stress of the war and the added weight of pleasing her day in and day out, he is getting tired.

Lucifer dismissed the meeting, and the demons left the oak table. Cain and Abbadon pull away from the different demons meandering the halls. Into an empty room, they find solitude. "Why must you keep on doing this?" Cain huffs, getting irritated with Abbadon's lustful nature.

"Do you not like me when I do this?" she asks, pressing against him, her boobs dangerously close to spilling over.

"To be frank, my dear," Cain admits, "I've stopped giving a damn!" He pushes her away and starts to storm out.

"Fine!" she shouts, "there are plenty of men to satisfy my urges! Ones who can actually please a hard-working female demon in this faced paced world!"

Cain leaves her to her tantrum, and closes the door on the relationship. She has been getting on his nerves for a while now, and this was the final straw. It was all about sex with her, never communication. He needs something more, something… real. After centuries of passion-filled nights, he's finally had enough. The heat cannot warm the cold he feels inside.

The air is thick with blood and dust. The fallen bodies of angels and demons alike litter the ground like fallen playthings from a child's playtime. Cain fires away, ignoring the pain, ignoring the dying, ignoring the burn of the blade, itching to be used. He uses his anger from the past weeks to fuel his fight: with Abbadon, with this senseless war, with all the bloodshed. He's overcome with the fury. So taken with this temptation, he does not realize he has been shot until his knees hit the ground and his hand is covered in blood. He falls.

His healing will kick in soon, he knows this, but the pain from the bullet-wound is excruciating. His vision starts to blur, his movements slow. He cannot make out anything that isn't a few inches from his face.

A shadow falls over him. Hands start to grope his body, pressing hard on the wound. He can already start to feel it knit back together. He still cannot make out definite shapes. While one hand grips his abdomen, the other starts to slap his cheek, to keep him awake. He blinks his eyes open, and the person's face is so close to his, he can make out each, individual eyelash surrounding the ethereal sapphire eyes. His eyes look into the never-ending pool of blue, and they look back. The person starts to lean a little too heavily on his wound, and he coughs. They realize the task at hand and return to it, a slight blush dusting their features. As he starts to get back to strength, he can make out better details. Black, curly hair, supple features, and outstandingly beautiful, all make up this wonderful creature who decided to save his life.

Was she an angel? No, there were no angels for him. But she wasn't a demon, either, he'd be able to tell.

"Let's get you out of here!" she shouts, muffled by cannon fire. Her petite size hides her strength as she pulls Cain up and starts to carry him away from the violence. He helps as much as he can.

She's taking him to a little cottage, close to the town but still out of the way. It's then that he realizes they were fighting on her front lawn, and he cannot help but feel apologetic.

"S-sorry, ma'am," he gets out through clenched teeth, the regeneration taking more out of him then he realized.

"It's fine, soldier," she soothes, reaching the front door, "apologize when you are better." She opens it just enough to squeeze them in, then bolts it shut. He meanders towards a bed, landing gracelessly. "Make yourself at home," she says sarcastically, but then starts to flutter about the room.

His vision starts to swim again, and before he falls unconscious, his mind stays on the wonder before him. She may not be an angel, but she was as beautiful as one. She was his angel. The angel that carried him from that hell called the battlefield.

"Eat, you need your strength."

A warm, inviting smell pervades the air, and Cain cannot help but breathe in greedily. His mouth starts to water and his eyelids flutter open. In front of him is a porcelain bowl filled to the brim with a delicious soup. Normally, as a demon, he does not need to eat. But he does not remember anything smelling this good to him before. He picks up the spoon and begins to slurp loudly. A small giggle draws his attention from his food to the other person in the room:

His beautiful savior.

Cain drops the spoon with a clatter and looks down. "Sorry," he says.

"It's fine," she waves off, "I've seen hungrier men at Ms. McClancy's House of Refutable Business, if you know what I mean."

He snorts, and his eyes widen in surprise. He does not remember the last time he has laughed. She's giving him a fond look, and he cannot help but return it.

"Why why, aren't you just the little piggy," she lilts. Her voice is smooth and soft, like each word is caressed in her mouth before leaving, "no wonder you eat like that."

"Thank you for this meal," he says, and spoons more of the broth into his open gullet, "and thank you for saving my life. You did not need to do that."

"Oh hush you," she says, moving closer, sitting on the bed, "I felt like I had too, that I needed too. I was watching from my window, never one to shy from excitement. I saw you go down and… I do not know by what power, but something inside of me broke. I have never met you, but just seeing you go down made me downright miserable, more than I have ever been in my life. I was pulled to you, and thankfully I did not die with you out on that slaughter field."

Her words did something that no one has made him feel in a long time, that the whispers Abbadon shoved into his ears each night had no power to do: they made him feel special. She made him feel special. He gave her a smile, so full of thanks and so full of love, he did not know he could even smile like that. The last time he smiled was when he looked at Abel…

Cain shakes his head and focuses on the now, not one to get depressed. "And what name do I give the angel who saved me from my early grave?"

Her hand grips his. "You are too much sir! I would like for you to call me angel, but I guess you can call me Colette."

"Colette," he said, "A beautiful name to match a beauty such as yourself."

"Now, beast, you tell me your name?" she fires back.

He chuckles. "I do not think you would wish to know…"

"Please," she asks, "it cannot be bad can it? What is it? Bartholomew? Timothy?"

More laughter, "No, no." He gets quieter, and expects the shock and disgust, "My name is Cain."

Her laughter quiets down, and Cain closes his eyes. He expects the outrage, the discovery, the hurt. He'll have to kill her, to keep his secret. He knows he must, yet his body is telling him that he would never be able to.

"That makes sense," she says, and this is enough to open his eyes and cast a curious gaze towards his caretaker.

"What makes sense?" he asks.

"Why you were able to take five bullets, yet still have the smooth skin of a baby's bottom," she explains. "And," she grips his forearm, "this."

She removes the sleeve covering his burden. It's sensitive where she touches it. Usually it's a constant wave of fire coursing through his veins, a constant reminder of the terrible things he has done. But a simple touch by her fingers and it settles like the sea after a storm.

"So the Bible was right?" she asks with a smile.

"In some accounts, yes," he answers, "but not all of it."

"Glad to know."

She gets up from the bed and starts to flit about the room, doing all sorts of things: cooking, cleaning, sewing. Cain cannot help but watch her. She is like light, never truly there but still present. She floats, never walks. Her smile is brighter than the raging fires in Lucifer's domain. He is captivated. But, one question still hangs in his mind.

"Are you not scared of me?"

She stops her dusting, finally still after the hurricane of tasks she set for herself. She does not look at him.

"I am the fabled father of fratricide. I killed my brother. I have lived eons of my life, continuing down a path of death and destruction. When men hear my name they cower. I have razed kingdoms, burned villages, all in the name of Lucifer himself. But why do you care for me like a mother does her babe? I do not deserve it? But why do you extend the hand of friendship?"

The questions are out now. They hang in the air like heavy weights, dragging the mood down with them. She looks like she is thinking about something. Cain fears the worst.

After he's ready to tear out his own eyeballs, losing his patience, she answers. "Your history may be stained with darkness and the blood of many, but that does not scare me. I have waded through the murky river of death, myself, but I do not let my past define me. I have dried myself with the sun's rays, but you are still wet with darkness. And I cannot be at peace with myself knowing that you drown in the sorrow you see as inescapable. You say you serve Lucifer, but looking at you, I think you really serve your heart. And I think it is telling you something now." She turns to him. "And who said I was extending the hand of friendship?" With a final smirk in his direction, she returns to her chores.

Cain is left there, stunned at the power, the emotion, the truth behind her words. Has he been ignoring his true master all this time? Blind to what he really wanted all this time? He's been lost for millennia and this girl, this child, has been able to find him in mere minutes? Cain cannot help but feel like he's falling, but this time in love. He is making a choice, this time following the call of his heart. Cain rises from the bed, bowl in hand, and moves towards the counter. He picks up a wet rag and starts to clean the dirty dish, throwing a sly glance at Colette. She returns this look, and sweeps closer to him.

"What do you think you are doing?" she asks without looking at him, eye on the dusty floor.

"Serving my heart," he answers with a smile. She returns it, and Cain cannot help that this was the start of something new. Something wonderful. Something… he's been looking for his whole life.

Slam.

Crash.

Wham.

Lucifer and Abbadon destroy Jefferson Davis's bedroom, delighting in their one of their many sex-capades. Abbadon wanted to try something new, a position she made up, deciding it would be ironic to name it the "missionary". Her nails rake at his back. He fists her hair, bringing her lips close to his, delving into those red magnets. She tastes of other men, other key figures in Lucifer's pantheon; he does not mind. Lucifer knows she uses the womanly wile to get what she wants, and applauds her for it. As long as what she wants does not conflict with what he wants… he has no problem with how she climbs the corporate ladder.

He finishes inside of her, and he falls off the peak of sexual pleasure. She follows soon after. He pulls out and falls beside her. Their breathing are matched: in and out, in heavy gulps. She starts to calm down, and then turns to him. She runs her hand down his arm, his chest, and starts to circle his vessel's penis. "You know," she purrs, "no one has heard from Cain in over a year. Some fear he has died, others captured."

'So that is what she is after…' Lucifer thinks. "And what do you think has happened to him, pet?"

She leans on her arm, the one not occupied with his genitals, and leans over him. "I do not think, my lord. I know." She pulls hard on his member, and he cannot stifle the groan that erupts from his lips.

"Tell me, nggh, what you know," he commands, speaking through clenched teeth. Lucifer has to give it to her, she knows how to manipulate.

"I know he had deserted the army…" she starts, "he has fallen for a human," her face contorts with disgust, "and is now married to said meatsack, trying to live a normal life."

"So," Lucifer says, "he is only one in a million. He served his purpose, and I have more knights than necessary-"

"But he sets an example!" she tugs again, "he has left, yes, but has this rebellion been squashed, no! Others might follow his path, and we cannot allow this! You cannot allow this insurrection!"

Lucifer knows that she does not believe a word he says, and neither does he. He knows all she wants is revenge for Cain being able to cast her aside like yesterday's garbage. There has been no demon in Hell that could resist her, until Cain did the impossible. And now he's painted a target on his back. He doesn't really care about Cain, honestly, he knows no one else is capable of revolting against him. But, it's not like he'd show his hand and let Abbadon know he knows what she does best…

"Fine," he says, "I'll let you have your little demon hunt. Do what you want with him. But finish up here."

He comes pleasantly and she leaves satisfied.

Cain is tending the fields, sewing life into the land that has absorbed so much death and destruction. His new life with Colette is more than he could have ever dreamed. She gives him love, she gives him life, she gives him a sense of purpose. He has not felt this way in years, not even the first eighteen of his life! Her smile intoxicates him, fills him with a lust not for blood but for life. Their life is perfect, and the weight on his shoulders has been replaced with a small weight in his pocket.

A heel smashes the plant he is tending too, and he looks up into the familiar burning gaze of the woman he hasn't wanted to see for the longest time.

"Abbadon."

He's backing away from her and towards the house. Colette is in town, stocking up on supplies. Thankfully out of harm's way.

"What?" she aks innocently, "no warm welcome? No parade? And here I thought we had something special?"

"What we had was despicable and disgusting."

"And that is my definition of special."

She has a feral grin on her face, and fear spikes in his stomach. "What are you doing here?" he cuts to the chase, his skin feeling sick all over his body just being close to this terrible demon.

"I'm here to pay a visit," she explains moving her closer, "and to let you know that we miss you. We all miss you. Tides are turning, we need you."

"You may need me," he responds, "but in no way do I need you." He turns his back on her and continues towards the door.

"Oh, a few moments with a harlot and you are ready to throw away everything you have worked for!"

He stops. "What did you call her?"

"A harlot? Or should I say tramp? Meat-sack? Which do you prefer because I can get more descriptive and definitely more vulgar!"

Cain is upon her now, his First Blade out and aiming towards her neck. He holds it close, so close a droplet of blood drips onto the accursed object. His mark burns with new intensity, making him cringe. It hasn't hurt like this since Bull Run. He knows why.

"Rusty?" she mocks.

"But still able to get the job done," he enforces, pushing the blade deeper.

"Ow, that hurts," she jokes, then pushes the offending item out of her face. She whips it to the ground, then twists Cain around and has him around the neck. She starts to purr into his ear.

"You are weak from spending time here on Earth. Your many nights spend wallowing in the mud with your precious Colette has drained you of any strength you have! At this rate, we might lose faster if you were on our side again."

He knows she is right, but cannot be help but be amazed by how much he has changed in so little time. "I do not care," he admits, "I made a vow to my heart and to Colette, one at the same at this point, to never harm again. And I would gladly die to keep this vow."

"Pathetic."

She throws him to the ground. "You are not the man I met in Hell. You have changed. What stands before me is little less than a worm. And this Colette is to blame. So I have made a decision: you might be so willing to die for this vow… but is she?"

His eyes widen in horror, "No…"

"Oh yes," she gleefully replies, "One day, unsuspecting, unknowing, we will grab her. And you will never see her. Your torture is constant fear. And I will make sure you suffer for each breath you take." Abbadon disappears in a flash of red smoke, and Cain is too slow to catch her. His blade slices through thin air.

He can hear the horse fast approaching, her dress ruffling from the breeze of dismount, her gentle voice calling "Cain!" He breathes a sigh of relief, just knowing she is still safe.

"Cain!" Colette calls, "I have returned-Is everything alright?"

She notices his blade, the glowing of his mark, and how mussed up he is, more so than usual. He waves her off.

"It is nothing," he assures her. Her finger wipes at the blood droplet on the blade.

"Really?" she asks again.

"It is handled," he says, "and with no fighting. I do admit my anger got the best of me, but the offending party left without any scratches." She holds the finger out again. "Mostly."

"Alright," she relents, "I trust you."

"Wonderful!" he says. Cain directs her towards the house. "Now if you would be so kind, I have a question I have been dying to ask you all day."

"Well I hope whatever the question is you like my answer…"

Of course she says yes, and in a fortnight they are married. It's a simple ceremony, private. The only guest was the priest. They shared their vows… they kissed… and they entered their cabin ready to spend their first night as a married couple in wedded bliss. It's slow, it's sensual, it's beautiful. He cradles her in his arms as he methodically thrusts into her, not wanting to crush her. He is gentle, making sure to kiss and suck every available inch of skin on her body. He nuzzles her breast, caresses each nipple, pushing her to the point of sexual bliss. Just hearing every rushed breath, every moan, every sound is enough to send him over the wall. They both come together, with the name of the other on their lips. As they descend from their peak, they look lovingly into each other's eyes. With no words, they express every ounce of love they have for each other. He pulls out and just holds her, cuddles with her. This is the first time that he's ever had passion stay with him. Colette was better than any night he shared with Abba-

He shouldn't be thinking of that. Pushing her from his mind will make him feel better, feel safer, destroy her desire for psychological torture. Colette senses his hesitation.

"Are you okay, my love?"

Cain looks away from her piercing gaze. "It is nothing, dear."

"Do not say it is nothing!" she urges, sitting up, "As your wife, as your partner, we share everything. In our vows we said to share our burdens. It's not nice to break a promise only after a day, you know." She smiles coyly at the end of that.

He returns her smile. "Just… my past. Someone from my old days as… they came back and threatened me, threatened you and… I just didn't want to worry you."

"It matter me not, my love," she says, "nothing can harm me while I am safe in your arms. The outside world has no say on our little infinity."

His heart is warmed by her words.

"And now as your wife, I ask you to go get me some fruits I left on the kitchen. All this calming and romping has left me hungry."

He puts up a small fight, but relents in the end with a smile. "Anything you say, my dear." He gets up from his bed, not caring about covering up his nude figure. He looks at her, then gives her a small kiss on the forehead. "I love you, my beauty."

"And I you, my beast."

Cain makes his way into the kitchen and picks up the bowl containing the fresh fruits they picked for the occasion. He puts one into his mouth and bites down on the delicious, crisp food. Some juice leaks from the corner of his mouth and he swipes it up with his tongue. 'Is almost as sweet as my Colette,' he thinks. 'Almost'

The night is peaceful, the air fresh, and there is a hint of sulfur in the wind-

Sulfur.

His eyes widen, and he drops the bowl in a clatter. He rushes back to his room with Colette, yet the window shatters before he gets there. He hears her shouts, her struggles, and he hurries towards his love. He gets there, and she is already gone, yet two Knights are in her place.

"Look at this, brother, mighty Cain as naked as the day he was born!"

"Fitting, since his time with the human filth have turned him into such a baby!"

They advance on Cain, swinging their blades without abandon. He knows he should disarm them peacefully, keep his promise to Colette…

But with her gone, so is his heart, and the sweet sound of his blade ripping through flesh as the two Knights are no more. He feels nothing for the men that he once fought side by side with. All he feels is rage, total and full.

The massacre begins.

Cain stands atop a cliff, staring out at the vast sea: endless, like his suffering. He thinks over the past four months he has wandered the path of damnation. Slaughtering those who he has taught, wiping the existence of the Knights of Hell from Hell's history books. All but one: Abbadon. His heart seethes with fury, but he does not act on his rage. He does it for her. He's always done it for her.

Colette…

His eyes water and his salty tears join their siblings in the waves below. He cannot hold back the tidal wave of emotions over the loss of his loved one. He promised never to harm again, and he intends to keep it this time. With his hand outstretched, he drops the Blade into the watery grave. His mark screams as the tether is dropped further and further into the dark abyss, but he learns to ignore it after a time.

After standing there for seven days, crying over the loss of his love, he leaves. Mourning the lives that left him when he struck Colette's body.

He leaves Manassas, too many memories connected with it. He heads out west, the war over and the nation at peace. Hell was defeated, and Michael locked Lucifer away in a cage, waiting for the day until his new vessel frees him to start the apocalypse. Too bad Michael could not enjoy his win as his vessel was destroyed not soon after. Oh well, at least the slaves were free.

He decides to settle in Missouri, the name fitting his current state. It's good weather for growing corn, and he puts all his effort into raising beautiful fields of yellow beauty. Around the 20's he gets interested in bee-keeping. All wonderful distractions from the pain he carries with him. Distractions, not allieviators.

He lives a life of solitude, only seeing people when he wants too, until a certain Dean Winchester enters his life. Cain saw so much of himself in Dean, and it makes sense too since he is the reincarnated version of himself.

Dean asked for the mark, and Cain was more than happy to give it to him. The pain, the trouble… but after he left he felt empty. And sorry. He could not leave the poor boy to suffer the terrible consequences that come from handling the accursed object and scar. He still had some powers, and tried his best to get into contact with Dean, but the latter ignored him.

So with nothing tying him to the land, he packed his bags and journeyed onwards towards the bunker, knowing that he can do his best in honoring Colette and Abel, by helping this poor soul away from the choices he made.

"And that is my story," Cain finishes, sipping the last few drops of whiskey in his glass. Sam sits with rapt attention, mouth hanging open during the entire story Cain weaved for the young Winchester. His mind is overwhelmed with information, and he cannot even begin to ask the questions he wants. But before he can even say a word, Cain is out of his chair. "Is Dean doing any better?" he asks.

"Oh," Sam grumbles, "I'm sure he's fine, just coming off his high. Castiel is watching him."

"He is lucky to have someone like him," Cain says, and the subtext hidden within words alerts Sam that he knows.

"He is," Sam agrees.

And as Dean rests in his bed with Castiel tending to him, Cain cannot help but flashback to that precious day where Colette pulled him from the battlefield. And he smiles.

This took forever to finish. I really hope you guys liked it! Peace, love, and review!