"Home?" Sam repeated, leaning away from Castiel despite himself. There was something very wrong about the stranger. It was his stance. Not quite demeanor was stiff, like a soldier. Alert, even as he sat down next to Sam. He was like a snake preparing to strike. Sam couldn't help sliding off the barstool and standing away.

Castiel followed the movement almost lazily. It was like all his attention was focused only on Sam and nothing else. The world didn't exist around him. Yet Sam could not help but think that he recognized him. Not just because Castiel said so. He had seen him before definitely. With looks like that, you weren't likely to forget someone very soon.

It clicked into place.

"You...I saw you in my dream," said Sam, taking another step back.

Castiel's answering smile was confirmation enough. He too slid off the barstool and took a deliberate step towards Sam. " Don't be afraid, Sam. There are lots of things your mind simply refuses to remember. You can trust in me. I've done nothing but look after your best interests."

So said Carmen as well. Sam's lips tightened into a hard line. He watched his feet, watched him slowly draw closer as though he was attracted through gravitational force. "Are you friends with Carmen?"

The question did make Castiel stop, and for the first time, the coiled snake inside of him was startled. "Carmen? What has Carmen told you? That I intend to hurt you?"

"That depends. Are you working with Crowley?" Sam asked cautiously.

"Crowley?" Castiel repeated, smiling. It didn't touch his eyes. Nothing touched him. Something had broken inside this individual. There was a haunted look about him that chilled Sam to the very core. "I don't work for Crowley. I'm a servant of this world. And If I am a servant, then you could consider Crowley a tool at best."

"What do you want with me?"

"I told you, Sam. I'm here to take you home," Castiel closed the distance between them and took Sam's face. His hand felt like it had been dipped in ice cold water. Not what Sam expected.

Sam's mind suddenly pulled a blank. He wasn't gay, but there was something endearing about Castiel. The way he said the word "home" was like it belonged there. The idea of a place where he was meant to be came to mind. Some part of him registered that he may have been playing a mind trick on him. That this was all a magic spell or whatever the hell they called it.

It took everything for Sam to speak the next words.

"I am home," said Sam quietly, struggling to fight off the impulses that were threatening to take over him. "This is... my home. Lawrence. Not whatever...place you want to take me."

"Your home is with me," His voice was so hypnotic. Sam felt foolish for thinking he looked dead on his feet before. He never looked more alive.

"Get away from him, Sam," Sam didn't even hear her come in, but there she was standing behind him. He broke off contact with Castiel almost instantly. He could feel his skin tingle where Castiel had touched him. Carmen took a hold of his shoulder and pulled him behind her so that he hit the door. He couldn't see her face, but her entire body shook with anger. To his astonishment, something shimmered on her back and then swam back into focus. A sword with red runic symbols on the blade.

And Sam felt flushed with anger. Why was she shielding him from Castiel? He wanted to see him.

"Ah, Carmen...I should have known you wouldn't be far," said Castiel, not looking at all frightened of the fact that a demon was in his presence. He backed away from Sam, fingers interlocking.

"Let me go," said Sam, trying to push past Carmen, but she wouldn't budge. In fact, she twisted around and her hand caught his elbow in a tight grip, fingernails digging into skin, tearing through the fabric of his sweatshirt.

"The law claims you," said Castiel in a low, dangerous voice. "You know better than anyone the penalty for breaking the rules, Carmen Matthews."

"What are you talking about?" Carmen bit back, addressing Castiel for the first time. Unlike Castiel, her voice held no hypnotic quality. Her voice snapped him out of his reverie. He shook his head and his mind was instantly clear of obstruction.

" Let no harm befall the one who bears the mark," said Castiel as though the words were music. He slid his eyes to Sam with a coy smile. "And he bears mine."

What little color was left in Carmen's face. "You marked him?"

"I mark what's mine," said Castiel. "Your bloodline does not give you the right to forego what has been law for centuries before your birth."

"Fuck. You. How's that for following the law? You're not touching Sam. Over my rotting corpse, you fucking prick. I don't care what deal you have with Crowley. I don't care what you're planning but you can kiss any mark you have with Sam goodbye."

Sam expected rage. Expected sinister power, because that's certainly what Castiel exuded. To his surprise, Castiel smiled and tilted his head as if curious despite himself. "Defying the law...Huh. Not so unlike your creator, are you? Dean looked at me the same way. Have it your way, Carmen. You'll die just like he did. Weak and alone, surrounded by the fires of Hell."

"Your Creator? You never told me Dean was your-" But Sam never got to finish.

The name sent Carmen into a fury. She screamed a primal scream that shook Sam to the core.

Carmen charged Castiel, sword drawn, swinging blindly. She spun like a practiced dancer, her sword coming down hard on Castiel's shoulder. The killing stroke. But he was fast. Much faster than anything he had ever seen, movies or comics or tv shows combined. His arm came up high over his head and stubbed the blade. Carmen froze for half a second, meeting his gaze. He was still smiling. Yet a fine line of blood ran down Carmen's sword.

He punched her. The sound had a sick crunch to it like he had literally cracked her face in two. She staggered and he grabbed a handful of her hair, slammed her against the counter top. Castiel pulled a sword concealed behind his jacket. This, like Carmen's was a black hilt except the design on the blade was unreal. Like lightning moving across the steel.

Castiel plunged the sword into her side and cried out in agony just as he drew her up by her hair once again, his hand large enough to puncture her skull with fingernails.

"Sam, run!" He couldn't imagine what her face looked like in front of Castiel, only viewing it from the side where he could see nothing but red where blood ran. "RUN, SAM! NOW!"

"No! I'm not leaving you!" He had to do something. Something. Anything. His eyes darted around for a weapon. Draw his attention. It wasn't her he was after.

Stupid idea. Stupid, stupid idea. He picked up a glass ketchup bottle off the nearest booth. "Hey asshole! Here for me, right?!" He threw it.

Castiel didn't catch it. He must have been made of stone or something much harder. The bottle shattered against an outstretched hand. The red liquid dripped from his fingers, the glass shards falling in tiny pieces to the ground. Castiel slowly turned his attention to Sam and curled his fingers into a fist.

Sam crumpled almost immediately. The Mark that burned in his back, barely itching before suddenly burned with such intensity that Sam felt like his skin was going to peel off and his spinal cord melt. His hands scrambled behind him to touch it and his palms seared where he touched. He couldn't move. He was going to pass out. The pain was too much.

Make it stop. Make it stop.

Carmen came to her senses. She headbutted Castiel. Caught by surprise, she was released and she watched him stagger, blood beading down his forehead. He touched the blood in surprise, opening his mouth for some retort she didn't care for. Carmen kicked out one of his kneecaps, forcing him to kneel. Carmen's face was a mass of broken bone and exposed tissue. But already skin was knitting itself back together, her natural healing ability coming into play.

Sally burst through the kitchen doors. Her eyes swept over all of them. Kitchen must have been loud if she couldn't hear them before. She looked from the bloodied Carmen, the kneeling Castiel and the fallen Sam still out of breath on the floor. She said something. But Sam never heard it. All he heard was Castiel as his attention briefly went to her, then returned to Carmen, a sick grin contorting his face.

It was the face that said, Now you've done it. Now you've really done it.

Castiel reached behind him and for a moment Sam thought he was seriously surrendering or at least putting off the fight. What a foolish thought. Nothing could have prepared Sam for what Castiel did next. He didn't sheath the sword. He wasn't putting his weapon away. He wasn't surrendering. Castiel edged the blade against his back, sliced a line from the base all the way to the curve of one shoulder blade. A splatter of blood touched the back of Castiel's neck, dripped into the collar of his white shirt, staining it with spots. Sam thought he was done, but then he did it again to the other side, barely wincing, barely registering that he was in pain.

Castiel flexed his shoulders.

Having a mark on his back. Seeing Carmen's eyes go red when he touched her. Hearing her weirdo conversation with the unseen individual in the motel. Seeing her sword and Castiel's...He could have registered it all as a nightmare that was too vivid. A story his mind that was playing for him to wake up and write down in a journal to hand to the shrink along with his resumé to life and a signature with his consent to be admitted in the nearest psych ward.

Yeah, he could have.

Until he saw Castiel's wings. They took up the length of the entire room, black as the darkest shadows with long onyx feathers, shining with a thousand different other colors in the tips like a crow's wings. Blood dripped from them like steady rain. Not just from the injury he himself had caused. They bled like a constant wound, a constant burden he had carried for too long. He flexed them just a tiny bit, standing fully so his feet parted with the ground.

Something flickered in Sam's head. A brief flash of Castiel. But not him as he was now. Something else. A flash of someone made of pure white and ethereal light with wings of pearl white extending easily from behind him as though they were weightless, as if the wings were something that carried him proudly.

And Sally. Poor red-haired Sally. Sally didn't even have a moment to digest it all. Not even a chance. Sam felt a stinging pang for the inevitable. Not against someone like that did she have a chance to even process it. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream before he curled a fist towards her. Crimson lightning crackled around his fingers before he opened them as if extending an invitation to her. The lightning detached from Castiel and coiled around her body like a snake, ripping out...No, it couldn't be. Sam's stomach could have emptied out all it's contents if there was anything there. Another version of Sally seemed to be pulled from the body, a form that looked shockingly human, with no face, no hair, no other distinguishable traits. It was made of light itself. It glided towards Castiel like a moth to a flame until the light encompassed his body for just a moment before disappearing altogether.

Sam didn't have to look at him as he did now, with horrified eyes, to know what he did. He could feel it. Maybe he wasn't human, like they said. Maybe he was something else entirely. Maybe he had a sixth sense. But whatever Castiel had taken from poor Sally was everything that made Sally what she had been in living. Her corpse dropped like a rag doll.

Sam didn't feel when Carmen grabbed him. Didn't feel when her arms wrapped around his and wrenched him to his feet. His legs felt like jelly, his whole body had gone numb with terror. He couldn't look away from Castiel. This time there was no hypnotic spell that kept him firm in place, watching Castiel as though he couldn't believe it.

And he couldn't. Yet didn't it make sense? If demons existed in this world, surely angels did as well? Yet he wasn't sure how he could attribute the word angel to Castiel when he looked so cruel, so broken and frightening all at once. This was not an angel.

Carmen dragged him outside, just as Castiel's entire form was struck by red lightning called from the heavens. Sam tore his gaze away and let her steer him outside. Cars had gathered around. He didn't know what they were looking at behind him, and frankly, he didn't want to know either. A van skidded in front of them in the parking lot, a family of four filing out to stare at the cafe like it was the home of an alien invasion.

The next second they were gone, raised high and their light being cast out of them and pulled towards the glass door. Sam watched their bodies fall like dominoes on top of one another.

"What...What is he?" Sam couldn't help but ask.

"A Fallen. Way beyond my paygrade," said Carmen. Her grip on his arm tightened painfully, enough that he had to look at her, break away from looking at something like this to do so. She seemed to be bracing herself for something. For what, he couldn't imagine. A retaliating attack? This hardly seemed to be the time since he just witnessed her get her ass handed to her by him.

She wasn't attacking. Retreating. Her feet left the ground and she leaped. It wasn't a normal jump. A few feet was normal, but Carmen soared through the air, Sam in tow. Spots of black below became the people he was just standing in front of. He could even see Castiel emerging from the cafe doors, his head inclined in their direction. He could imagine his smile. That smile that said nothing had changed and a brief reprieve didn't mean a damn thing. More cars pulled up in shock...crowding around the "angel". They were going to die. They were all going to die. The way he killed Sally...

Sam felt like he was going to be sick. Not just because Carmen had the height of a airborne jet now.

She descended with much more speed than her jump. Sam found them heading towards the flat roof of a building. How was she not slowing down? Why was she not slowing down?

"Carmen," He felt the need to remind her.

She landed, and not gracefully. Sam spun and tumbled, taking her with him until he was unwillingly on top of her. Somehow, and it had to be nothing short of a miracle, he hadn't gotten that hurt with her under him. She seemed to take the worst of the damage. Up close, he could see just how much blood she had lost. But that's all it was. Blood. Her skull must have cracked twice during the fight, and yet there was not a single bone out of place.

He felt wetness at his side and saw the wound Castiel placed. At least that proved she wasn't invincible. That wound looked extremely painful, he could see where her dress had been cut open.

The moment they made skin contact, he saw her eyes flash scarlet and immediately rolled off, an apology in his eyes. "Sorry."

Carmen groaned and began to sit up, rubbing her eyes. "Not my best landing, but considering it was my first with company. I don't think I did too bad."

"Are you all right?" Sam asked hesitantly, getting to his feet and offering her a hand. There was just so much blood before, now it looked like she might have been digging in a graveyard all day with as much caked blood she had on her face that had now gone to a crispy brown.

"I'm fine," said Carmen, struggling to stand, completely discharging her statement. For some reason, the question seemed to piss her off. Her eyes raked him with anger. "Take off your shirt."

"I beg your pardon?" Sam asked, startled.

"Your shirt. Take it off. If he marked you...I need to see it," said Carmen.

"Is this really the place?" Sam surveyed the top of the building. Must have been an apartment building of some sort. More than likely no one would see them except maybe a tenant hoping for a morning walk...or a helicopter. Still...

"Just do it," Carmen snapped. "I need to see with my own eyes."

Taking a hold of the front of his shirt, Sam balled it up in his fist and pulled until it was over his head and he was standing in front of her, half naked. He knew her gaze was probably only critical but he felt strangely exposed in front of her. The mark still stung from when Castiel had used his power on it...or from it...whichever.

Carmen walked behind him and stopped. Looking over his shoulder he caught her expression, thinking to find disgust, maybe even more anger that he had went and got himself marked. Somehow...How could he stop this from happening?

"What is it?"

"It's the sigil of Retribution. I've read of it before," said Carmen shortly. She approached him. He flinched for the upcoming touch but it was surprising gentle...and warm. She ran her fingers over the symbol he himself felt he didn't get a clear idea what of.

"How did it happen? I mean...when?"

"Put your shirt back on," Carmen ordered, dropping her hand in a defeated sort of way when he turned around, looking at the ground in a focused sort of way. "I don't think you understand, Sam. He dream-walked. Angels can do that. And he's an angel...Much more powerful than I could have imagined. What you saw back there...He was absolving souls to fuel his power. I had heard the legends from my cell when I was in prison."

"Why did he mark me? What does he want with me?" Sam asked as he pulled the sweatshirt on. He couldn't help but feel he was too ordinary. What was he? He was just a kid from Kansas.

"Fallen mark the ones they plan to sire. He wants to kill you. He might throw pretty words like salvation or whatever to make it sound better...but it is what it is. Castiel wants to kill you and resurrect you. That's how demons are made. Imperials. Fallen...they make children that way. But ones marked by Fallen are the ones that are the strongest. So they say. Lilith was the first," said Carmen exasperatedly.

So...it was his fate to die then.

Pretty words. Nothing Castiel had said to Sam thus far could be considered pretty. "He said...He said he's here to take me home. What does that mean? What does..."

He broke off, suddenly thinking of what he saw when Castiel's wings had unfurled like something out of his worst nightmare. Something out of everyone's nightmare, actually.

"I saw something when I looked at him. It wasn't him...It looked like him...but he was brighter. He didn't look like he does now. There was something light about him," Sam mused, closing his eyes and trying his best to pull the memory back to the surface, but to no avail. It was like pushing against a giant wall of elasticity in his mind, simply unwilling to budge.

Sam turned to her. " I think it's time you told me everything. No skimming. Just tell me what's going on."

"I'll tell you on the way out of here," said Carmen evasively, running a hand through blood-crusted hair. "I'm going to do a little grand theft auto. Look away if you're feeling squeamish." And without further ado, Carmen ran the length of the building and jumped off. Alarmed, Sam ran after her and watched her catch the side of the building as if her fingers had superglue on them before jumping off and falling easily on the concrete where she not-so-subtly approached a white toyota and started fiddling with the front door lock before opening it. Meeting his gaze from below, she gestured for him to come down.

Sam sighed and shook his head. No one could say she wasn't reckless...or unique. Sam found the door to the inside quite easily. The hallway was deserted when he entered, he could see dark yellow paint peeling off the walls. Loud music banged from one of the tenants rooms, shaking the ground. He couldn't blame anyone for wanting to leave at nine in the morning and rush to wherever they were going with that type of noise. Even passing the music and noise, Sam's mind wandered.

Demons. Angels. Vessels. Did everything just exist now? Everything in the story books? What, were fairies and vampires real too? He didn't want to ask. Sam was marked to die now. Be sired and turned into a demon. He had never fought anything in his life. In his youth, Jack Cole was the bully who pushed him down and called him a freak. He never laid a hand against him. He told himself it was because it wasn't worth it.

Funny how little things had changed. Sam didn't even want to raise a hand to fight Castiel.

More than anything right now, he just wanted to be in school with Jess...watching her put up her Christmas decorations for student council in the gym. Any other day he might have shirked it off. She never paid attention to him while she was doing her extracurricular activities...but she wanted him nearby all the same so he did it. He loved Jess...He always would. Now the prospect seemed to dawn that he might never get to see her again.

Sam entered the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor, leaning against the back wall and sighing again. He couldn't be here if she was going to be in danger. Sam could never show his face in Lawrence again. But even then...he didn't know how Castiel's mind worked. If he would just kill all of Sam's loved ones just to get him...Isn't that how things happened in the movies?

But this wasn't a movie. This was real.

And damn, was it scary.

The elevator dinged and he sulked out, passing up a dim, dusty hallway of mailboxes and a checkout stand with a sleeping kid about his age. The prospect of sleeping felt really good right now. Sleeping and waking up back in his cheap apartment with no worry except a big test for class.

Sam eyed the car with disdain, but climbed in at Carmen's command. People weren't running rampant on this street, just going about their usual morning business. Not yet...they were too far from the site where Castiel had attacked. The Fallen was probably long gone, leaving a trail of bodies for the police to find, with no real evidence of what killed them.

Carmen started the car as soon as Sam was in, pulling out of the lot and taking off at a phenomenal speed. He was pretty sure she was breaking five laws...but he also had a feeling she could care less...and no one was stopping them.

"So what happened? What did I see?"Sam asked after a few minutes.

"You probably saw a memory flash...It's not uncommon. Castiel made you forget long ago. I guess that was when he was actually a...when he was one of us," said Carmen, clenching her jaw for a moment. "I guess he wanted to shield you from your grief, but that doesn't mean some remnants don't stay. I'm surprised you forgot Dean...but I guess that's what Castiel meant to destroy in the first place."

"You keep mentioning this guy Dean," Sam noted. "He did too. What was he to me? Why would I be...grieving? Because he died like Castiel said?"

And, Sam failed to add. He made you what you are. But bringing that up felt entirely too intrusive. She already looked tense.

Carmen sighed and he could tell she really didn't want to talk about this, but maybe she thought what he thought. That an explanation was something Sam was owed by now. "You're not human, Sam. I thought you were...after everything happened...but I guess not. I can't influence your mind like I should be able to. There's a block there. I would think it was something Cas placed...but it's not. You're a vessel. You're a body that can hold a massive amount of Will...I don't even fathom how much. Normal humans would tear apart if we filled it with our power, but you can't do that. You're able to withstand it. A long time ago...someone put their power in you...I would say the stress of having it is what prevented you from remembering even childhood memories. Maybe one day you just woke up."

Vessel stage. She had said that before. The term sounded ugly and offensive. So did everything else she said, as a matter of fact. How was that even possible when he was a man. He had memories...He remembered them clear as day. Just because she said they were something else entirely didn't make it the truth. "So I'm a big space compartment for demon power. That's great...I guess even demons need luggage to carry around when they're travelling. How can you say all this? I'm human. I have a family...a girl...I'm human."

"Ever notice your memories kind of stop at ten years of age?" Carmen inquired.

Sam opened his mouth and closed it. He gave a shaky little laugh. "I'm sure not everyone remembers when they were babies."

"Oh is ten the age when you're a baby then? I could have sworn...you know..five? Six? Seven? Eight? Nine? I can recall my memories from five years of age. I liked making mud sculptures. Can you remember that far?" She asked the question snappishly. Like she didn't really care whether he believed her or not. She was right and he was wrong. It was like a slap in the face.

"I...," Sam ran a hand through his hair. What could he say? He couldn't remember that far. He couldn't even remember ten all that well either. Like most of his tenth year was blocked off too...It was just like struggling to remember that memory of Castiel.

Carmen shook her head at him and her voice came out a little more gentle. "You're human where it counts, Sam. I know that...but I didn't say you had demon power. But anyway...One day you met Dean. You saved his life from something so he granted you a wish...and you asked for him."

None of this sounded familiar, but at those words, Sam stared. "I asked for...him?"

"You asked him to stay with you forever," Her tone sounded so solemn. Her fingers clutched the steering wheel tightly like before. The blood that had dried there began to crack on her skin under the strain. "Long story short...You met Castiel too. Dean wanted to keep you safe so he opted to take you to one of his locations on Earth. Castiel wanted to bring you to Heaven for evaluation or something...Well, Dean wasn't having that."

"And that's when he died?" Sam asked. "Dean, I mean?"

"No," said Carmen, swallowing hard to clear her throat. "The power that was in you that made you so extraordinary was...It was Lucifer. He had stored his power in you so he could live even when he was killed in combat. Some angels betrayed Heaven and brought you to a ceremony where Lucifer rose again...and you kind of passed out after that. Went into a comatose state. "

She stopped, let her words mull over. Sam felt like his whole body had grown cold. And maybe it had because the mark prickled unpleasantly on his back at the change in temperature. Lucifer? The devil? "...Satan was inside me? You're...you're not serious."

"Lucifer let himself die and used your body as a fallback plan," Carmen explained. "He wanted his death to incite wrath in Dean. He raised Dean as his own. He wanted to prove that Dean could fall from grace as an act of defiance to Heaven. That the innocent soul he took from Earth could break like a demon and lead hell's forces into battle against Heaven...only...hah. Dean didn't do that."

"So that's where I came in," Sam surmised. "And considering Satan is not making headline news...horns and all, I'm guessing he..."

"He's not dead," said Carmen. "He's in the ninth circle. It's the deepest, darkest circle of Hell. Dean trapped him there...along with..." She expelled a harsh breath. "Himself."

"So they're alive...They're both alive...Does that mean he's going to be...erm...using...my body...again?" Sam couldn't understand why he was talking about this rationally. All of it screamed insanity. But how could he doubt it? He saw an angel with his own two eyes. Saw Castiel in a brief glimpse of what he once was. From a life he no longer recalled.

"That's not likely," Carmen told him in a semi-bored tone. "Entry to the ninth circle is impossible now. It's sealed by rock that can't be easily destroyed. Any idiot who wants to get in...can't. No matter what they do. Even if they were to pass through each of the eight circles one by one, the ninth can't be broken in."

Sam let out a little breath of relief. "Well that's...good, then. Right? It's good."

Her eyes tightened just a bit, like she was squinting. It took a long time for her to answer. "Yeah. It's peachy."

Sam sat back in his seat, mulling it over. What she had just explained...for some reason, he was really glad he didn't remember any of it. Being a vessel sounded...horrible. In fact, it sounded like he was just a doll for these people. And he had been. He would have hated to be...whatever age he was and walking around knowing everything that people refused to believe in was real.

Yet he couldn't imagine what made him think asking for this Dean of all wishes to have was a good idea. Seemed like that was the problem there. He had seemingly invited a demon into his life. He didn't know the guy...but it felt fitting to blame him for the current situation.

Sam was so lost in thought he didn't feel his phone vibrate and heard instead the after-vibrate ringtone. He pulled out the phone, flashed an apologetic look at Carmen and looked at the name appearing on the screen. "Mom".

"Better pick it up if it's your girlfriend," said Carmen in a scathing voice. "Heaven forbid we have better things to do like get you out of here as fast as possible."

"It's my mom," Sam answered. "She's not calling. She sent a text."

Carmen blinked and looked out the window. "What does it say?"

Sam switched out of the home screen and opened his inbox, the three letters stuck out like a sore thumb.

"COME HOME NOW."