Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. A.N. So, I tried this story thrice, I couldn't decide how to tackle it. For the Iconic Supernatural line(s)/quote(s) day thing. It might technically not be a prompt, exactly like the ones to come up to the anniversary (I actually lost their exact origin... oops), but they can't stop me from considering them prompts, can they? ;D

Not a fetish

Dean will admit it, he's trying to think about anything and everything except the main matter at hand because...it's terrifying, okay? No, not Cain on a murder spree. Well, yes Cain on a murder spree, though frankly, if that 10% of humanity being wiped out did not include Sammy, Dean could almost – almost – look away. (As if Cas and Sam would let him. Nevermind.)

No, what's truly, sickeningly terrifying is the...implications of Cain's breaking his "sobriety", so to speak. How irresistible the Mark truly is. That Cain's own predictions might come true. No, he's...probably not killing Crowley, definitely not killing Cas, and no fucking chance – I'll find a way to be atomized first – killing Sammy. He can't think about that, though – the less he thinks about killing, the better, actually. Pity the subject he latches on to is...pretty murdery, anyway.

"So, huh, I never asked. Why?"

"Why what, Dean? I'm not exactly a mind-reader," his brother huffs,

"Why the serial killer passion? Out of all the subjects to nerd on. Why their stats instead of – videogame characters, or historical figures, or- "

"Well, some serial killers are historical figures. Even if maybe the term wasn't used then -" Sam retorts, because of course he does.

"You know what I mean. Presidents, generals, kings, that kind of thing."

Sam shrugs. "I don't know. I was reading up once, and I suppose you can say I fell into a research hole. Before I knew I was hoarding data, and – it's actually a popular thing, you know. True crime documentaries, podcasts, books. I'm not a weirdo."

"Nope sorry, I don't care how many of you there are, it's still weird." Dean grins to offset the tease, but a word actually is ringing bells. Research. Sure, he can joke Sam's lore books are his version of Busty Asian Beauties, but – research usually has a point. That point for them being, how do I kill that? Or how do I avoid getting killed?

So, still as casual as ever, he asks, "And when did you? Fall into that hole?"

"Awhile ago. I'm not exactly celebrating the anniversary of that, Dean." Bitchy, his little brother. He's lucky Dean loves him as-is.

He snorts. "I know. Come on, give me at least a vague idea. Like, Stanford? Earlier than that, I think I'd have noticed." Or would he? He'd missed Sammy applying for university in the first place. Even back then, his baby brother could have taught a course on being sneaky.

"Actually, a little after Stanford." Sam's humoring him, yes. He doesn't know Dean's trying to figure him out, just a little bit more. Like all the things he knows about Sam are feeding him – him, not the Mark. That thing wants blood. Dean wants Sam, inside out and sideways, every detail and thought and – if his brother had any sense, he'd be more spooked by him than by the Mark. Good thing that Sam's sense – and his sanity – have long been eroded, because Dean doesn't know what he'd do without him.

"After the Benders?" Still casual. Like he doesn't still have nightmares about that, every now and then, despite all the other material he's accumulated in his life (and occasional death). The empty lot, dad's journal, and – the only reason Dean hadn't been sick was that he didn't have the time to. He needed to find his brother first.

"Yeah." Realizing what he's admitted, Sam rushes to cover it with, "But it wasn't, you know, - related."

"I'm sure it wasn't." It's not like Sammy at all to be captured and almost killed and then react by studying the subject forwards and backwards so he won't have to be in that position again... seriously, Dean should have realized it long ago.

Though, what the hell could all the stats (stats he almost joined, fuck) on every serial killer ever alive tell him that Dean couldn't have? Don't get distracted in lonely parking lots when you know there's a monster around? (Never mind that the monster was human that one time.) Maybe try not to be so fucking pretty that anyone passing by is terribly tempted to snatch you for themselves?

Really, for all the demons and assorted monsters that have coveted his baby brother from day one, it's a mystery more actual people haven't pulled a Benders, except the somewhat softened Becky version. Part of Dean thinks that he'd kidnap Sammy if they weren't related and he just came across him. Sure, Sandoval him didn't, but Sandoval him wanted things well planned, slow and safe, and already had Sam staying in his environment. A little bit under his thumb, even. If this Dean, who'll leave town in a week tops, was Sam-less and found him? He wouldn't let him go.

And now Dean's worried his brother will somehow divine what he's thinking about. The silence's heavy like it usually isn't. "So, what have you learned? You know, besides everyone's stats?"

Sam smiles at him. "You don't really want to know. Favorite victims, usual hunting grounds, the psychology behind -"

Before his baby brother can go on a rant for the ages, Dean admits, "You're right, I don't want to know. Besides, it's all pointless. The psychology? I said it then, and I stand by it. Demons I get, people are crazy." He'd actually mumbled it to himself, finding the inbred assholes' trophies, but he'd conveyed the sentiment to Sammy too. It was true, and back then he didn't have the king of hell on speed dial, just in case. "Who cares what flavor of crazy?"

"Other people. Who are not crazy," Sam replies, a little grumbling.

"Debatable. Trust me, Sammy. Everyone's crazy. Everyone." That's why Dean has never wanted normal in his life. Normal only meant that people were successfully pulling the wool over your eyes about the exact brand of insanity they were hiding, and wasn't that the biggest risk of all? Demons and monsters were way easier to deal with.