* This is where this fic will branch out into actually fictional as episodes from "King of the Damned" onward take the MOC in a different direction than this story. Sorry for the wait, but holy shit, did you guys see "Stairway to Heaven"? Anyway... here's the next chapter. A few more after this I think to wrap it up soon-ish.

Sam had been sitting at the conference table for two hours listening to the broken screams of his psychotic, overheating brother. Crowley was having a look in the liquor cabinet when Sam stood up suddenly.

"Can you take it from him now?"

"What?"

"Take it, take the Mark, you can have it, just, can you do it?"

Crowley stood up and faced Sam.

"Are you off your bloody rocker? Last time we saw him he nearly broke your neck trying to choke you, and you want me to just walk into the trap and be stuck with the person who explicitly told me I was next on his list after Abaddon? No, I'll wait until he's clean, thanks."

Sam turned towards the strangled yells of his older brother.

"He's dying, Crowley, or something worse, just, please-"

The screaming was crossing over into hysterical laughing.

Crowley hesitated for a moment and then started heading towards the dungeon. Maybe it was because he actually cared. Maybe it was because Sam was practically begging. Or maybe it was because he didn't trust the human monster who couldn't possibly handle this amount of power.

The demon stepped into the dungeon and found, to his considerable surprise, that Dean was sitting quietly within the confines of the devil's trap. He was closed in on himself, arms folded over his chest, propped up by the corner between the cot and the wall. He had his head down, eyes closed. Though barely audible, both Crowley and Sam caught it upon their entry, Dean was humming.

"What is that?" Crowley hissed to Sam.

Sam answered with little hesitation, his voice on the verge of breaking he said, "It's Metallica."

"Are you humming Metallica?"

"It calms me down."

In that instance he was just nervous about air travel, now he was possessed by a demonic mark that made him so homicidal he had to worry that Sam might just become a fragile meat suit to him to dismember.

Sam took a deep breath and approached his brother, recognizing the song as 'Some Kind of Monster' and trying not to read too much into that.

"Dean."

Dean looked up, still humming, and Sam made an involuntary jump back. One of Dean's eyes was empty and black, the other was lost, scared green.

"You have it." Dean said softly as the humming stopped.

"What?"

"The Blade."

Dean was pointing toward Crowley who was hanging back a little.

Sam turned back and saw Crowley heading towards the door. Sam crossed the room and stopped him at the threshold.

"What the hell, Crowley?! You've had it on you this whole time?"

"What'd you expect me to do with it? Put it in a safe deposit box until we nab Abaddon?"

"It should be as far away from him as possible." Sam whispered.

"Right, okay, I'll stick it somewhere for safekeeping, alright? I just-"

Crowley's coat flapped open and the Blade flew out, directly into Dean's outstretched hand.

Sam and Crowley turned to watch in horror as the mark glowed white hot, and any trace of reason or feeling was wiped from Dean's eyes.

He stared at the trap, and the floor cracked, breaking the red, painted lines. He stepped out over them and started towards Sam. Crowley stepped between them.

"Hey, hey, calm down, squirrel, we'll-"

Dean grabbed Crowley's head and twisted it. His neck snapped with a loud crack and Sam jumped back.

Dean turned to Sam, Blade wielded.

"Dean. Dean, stop- you can stop-"

"Who says I want to?!" He growled back, advancing on Sam.

Sam hesitated a moment, trying to piece together anything that might calm Dean, but nothing left to be said would reach him now. Sam took a few steps back, turned, and bolted.

Running down the hallway he heard Dean not far behind him.

"Sam!" Dean yelled.

Sam hooked around the corner and into a spare bedroom. He locked the door and leaned heavily against it as Dean caught up outside.

"All you've ever done is run away!"

Sam shook his head. The voice of that memory had no context here. Sam wasn't giving up he was protecting his own life.

Giving up on your brother. Blocking him out.

"SAMMY!"

No. Dean was possessed by power and trying to kill him. All he could do is run-

Dean was heaving his body against the other side of the door now. Sam had to get out of here-

"It's okay, Sammy. It's okay. I'm not gonna leave you."

Sam froze.

When he'd been possessed by Lucifer he'd been terrified. Stuffed inside himself, helpless to control anything he said or did. And while he didn't want to hurt Dean, without him he wouldn't have taken control. He wouldn't have been brave enough without his brother riding it out with him.

"It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay... I got him."

Sam grabbed the shaking doorknob and bellowed through the wood,

"You can fight this, Dean! You don't have to kill me!"

"Come out, come out, Sammy!"

Sam took a breath, prepared himself to leap back, and opened the door. Dean had the Blade raised above his head, twisted bloodlust raging in his green eye while the black on showed nothing but the emptiness that was taking over. Sam leapt out of Dean's path, slipping out the door, he faced him, slowly backing away. But not leaving. Never leaving.

"Dean, I know, you feel powerful," he dodged Dean as he tried to punch him, "And you feel like the Blade is the only thing that'll make you feel strong-"

"Strong?! I've been rotting! Dead inside for months, hell, years, first time I held this Blade, I felt more alive than I ever have, and I'm sorry, Sam, but I am not letting this go." Dean said, his voice dripping with brutality but he was coherent.

He knew what he was saying.

"Dean, none of it's real! You're not happy, you're strung out, that's all it's doing for you, man!"

Dean gave a gruff kind of yell as he lunged at him, mark burning bright orange on his arm, Blade inches from Sam's head.

Sam ducked, backing toward another doorway, he opened it and backed inside, letting Dean follow him. Another trap was painted there, on the ceiling this time. Dean stuck, and looked at Sam, smirking with a dark laugh.

"Really? We tried this already, Sam, and I busted up the fuckin' floor."

Sam reached into his back pocket and pulled out the demon cuffs, snapping it swiftly around Dean's wrist and then on a pipe on the wall. Dean roared with a savage, monstrous snarl. He barely looked human. But it wasn't quite demonic. Even demons would fear this.