Daughter of Cain

by Silent Wolf Singer

When Cain went to rescue Colette from Abaddon his heart broke as she died in his arm. Though he lost the woman he ever loved, he had to keep his word never to kill again and protect their daughter. See through the eyes of Vivian Colette Mullen the Dame of Hell and Cambion as she deals with the rise of the supernatural. (Chapter 1-11 Rated T. Chapters 12 Rated M)

24. Chapter 24: The Book of the Damned

Daughter of Cain

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

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Chapter 24: The Book of the Damned

Vivian's POV

I debated on what to say to Castiel.

I was sending a message to my natural enemy. Even though we are civil towards one another, it is only because we care for the Winchesters. If not, we have a common goal: to remove the Mark of Cain from Dean. Some questions need to be answered, and I feel Castiel knows.

Then again, he is the one who found me when I was cursed.

I took a deep breath and texted: When you have a chance, we need to talk. It's about Dean and the cursed dagger.

Knowing it would be some while, I finished getting ready to make dinner, though I had to cross the library. Sam was on his laptop while Dean stood there in sweats. I'm betting Dean went on a run. They seemed to be in a serious conversation.

"It's an actual curse," Dean announced.

Sam looked confused, "What are you talking about?"

"Crowley told me…or rather Rowena told him after she tried and failed to kill me," Dean answered.

"What the hell happened?" Sam asked.

"It was only yesterday," I said, taking a seat.

Dean nodded as he sat down, "The Mark protected me. Rowena doesn't really have a beef with me. She was pissed at Crowley because she thinks he's going soft. She's not wrong. Yeah, well, after he and Mommy Dearest got into a fight –"

"Mommy Dearest?" Sam asked, confused.

"Oh, Rowena is Crowley's mother," I explained.

Sam's mouth literally dropped.

"More about that later," Dean interjected. "So…then he came and told me what she said. The Mark is an actual curse. So, anyway, I'm sorry. I probably should've told you that."

Sam was still baffled by this.

"The issue is the curse towards the holder or entity inside the curse," I said. "From what Cain told me, God entrusted Lucifer with this mark. Lucifer couldn't handle it and gave it to Cain."

"Somehow, Cain managed since the beginning," Dean added, then asked. "But how…."

I frowned, remembering the conversation. "Cain said killing had no pleasure in it after millions of years. Either the Mark was sated, or it was something else."

Sam tried to take this information in when his phone rang, except Dean grabbed it.

"Winchester Accounting. How may I help you?" Dean greeted in a professional tone, except whoever replied made his composure drop. "Charlie? What's going on? Where are you?"

He then put the phone on speaker.

A woman's voice answered, she seemed to be afraid as she spoke, "Uh, uh, I'm exhausted and - and I', bleeding. And I'm in a phone booth. A phone booth. I didn't know these things existed outside of Bill and Ted's –"

"Okay, hey, hey. Take a deep breath, kiddo." Dean said calmly. "Uh, we're both sitting here with our friend. Tell me what happened. Why are you bleeding?"

"I, uh – I got shot," Charlie answered.

Both men were shocked by this.

"Did you know dental floss works great on stitches? I only passed out twice, and I'm pretty sure my wound is now minty fresh," she said.

"Charlie, you probably need to go to a hospital," Sam advised.

"No, no, I-I'm fine," she assured. "I just got to get someplace safe. These guys are still after me."

"What guys?" Dean asked.

"Who?" Sam asked at the same time.

"Some southern-fried D-bags," she answered, fidgety and pissed. "They've been after me since I-I dug up 'the Book of the Damned.'"

My eyes widened when hearing this. It was something Cain had been trying to find for centuries. Not for personal gain but to keep it out of human and demon clutches. How can this woman find it so easily?

"You found it?" Sam asked, amazed. "Where?"

"After some near misses and some broken-into museums, I found historical documents that led to a monastery in Spain. It burned down years ago, left for dead, but, uh, I had this hunch about it. Turns out I was right. "

"Okay, Charlie, what does it say about the mark?" Dean asked.

"I have no fracking idea. The language it's written in, I've never seen anything like it. I, uh –I found some research notes in the monastery crypt, though, by the friar that buried it. 'The Book of the Damned' is a spell book for creating or undoing any kind of damnation there is. We translate this thing, I think we can get the Mark of Cain off you, Dean."

Dean was in disbelief, "Charlie, You're a genius."

Charlie chuckled, "A genius fugitive. I – these dudes following me, they are well-trained. One of them keeps talking about his family."

"Family? Did you get a name?" Dean asked.

"No clue," she answered. "I-I-I spotted a tattoo on one of them. Might be a family crest. It seems occulty."

"Charlie," I spoke up. "This is Vivian, by any chance. Did they have a European accent? Germain mainly or even British?"

She paused before saying, "No, more like Cajun-Creole."

"Then it is not the Thule…. or a branch from them, or the British Chapter," I said.

But the way Charlie described them sounded like something the Thule would do. I debated if this was an American branch of the Thule since many Nazis escaped from persecution and relocated to unexpected locations. Even though many escaped, I wonder if a Thule managed to get to the southern states and start their own branch.

"Soon as the book was out of the ground, they were all over me," she said. "I, uh . . . I don't know how much more running I got left in me. T-They're tracking the book somehow."

"All right, then we need to get you off the grid, Charlie," Sam said. "Where are you right now?"

"Uh, just south of Des Moines," she informed.

Both men have an epiphany. As Sam pulled up his laptop, typing away.

"Uh, okay, you know? Our – friend Bobby has a whole bunch of cabins scattered all around, places for hunters to crash. You know, it's not much, but there's some gear and lore books, stuff to keep you busy till we get there."

I didn't like where this was going, so I stood and said, "I'm gonna go to her. Sam, text me the address."

Both gave me a sigh of relief.

"Charlie, Vivian will be there momentarily," Dean added.

"How can she be there in a moment…. wait…is she an angel?" Charlie asked.

"Something… like that," Dean said.

"Okay, bring snacks," she said. "And every Men of Letter decoder ring there is. This book is old and scary, and I've never seen anything like it."

All three of us frown at that.

.o0o.

Quickly, I grabbed my backpack, put in supplies, and grabbed a toy car—a standard vehicle that is easy to blend in. Afterward, I went to the library, where Dean handed me a bag of food and drinks.

"Thanks," I said.

"Keep watch of her," Dean said. "Charlie is like a sister to me."

I nodded as we made our way to the main entrance. Dean then pulled out his phone, showing me a picture of Charlie. She was a woman in her late twenties, maybe early thirties, with auburn hair and green eyes. She was dressed in some sort of fantasy costume, maybe medieval.

"Oh, uh, her hair would be shorter," Dean said. "Charlie is a bit of a geek."

I chuckled with a nod.

"Also, she is a lesbian," he added.

"And…" I replied.

I really don't care for one's sexual orientation but their character. Love is love.

Dean was going to say something, then chuckled and shook his head. "Nothing."

"See if there are cursed boxes here," I said, changing the subject. "I think Charlie broke a sigil that protected the Book of the Damn from being found."

"You think it might be Thule?" he asked.

"That or a surviving branch of Thule," I answered. "I've dealt with some artifact hunters who would go extreme lengths to get their hands on things."

Dean nodded again, "Be careful."

"Same," I said, then exited the Bunker.

The moment I was outside, I let my mind focus on the image of Charlie and Des Moines, Iowa. Closing my eyes, I teleported, focusing on Charlie, until I landed outside a gas station beside a phone booth. A woman was sitting inside, practically out cold. Her hair was short, and the scent of blood could be detected. She was semi-conscious.

I knocked on the glass door to get her attention, "Charlie?"

This startled the woman as she looked up.

"Charlie, it's Vivian," I said. "I'm a friend of the Winchesters."

"Oh, thank you, Aslan. You are here," she said as she slowly stood up.

Once she was up, I helped her out and checked her condition. She seemed fine, yet the smell of blood could be noted. But there was something else—something dark and ominous, the same aura I felt with the Mark—as if the entity made the artifact, too.

"You alright?" she asked.

I blink a few times, "Yes, I just…. I can sense the book is all."

Charlie nodded, "Let's get going."

I nodded, pulling out the toy car and warping reality to make it a real-life vehicle. Charlie's eyes widened when she saw this, yet she did not say anything—she only got in the car. I checked my phone, entered the directions from the address Sam gave me, and began to drive. Still, I could sense the artifact, hearing the whispers once more in ancient Enochian and another language.

"So…you're Vivian," Charlie said.

"Yes, that's me," I confirmed.

"I'm glad Dean and Sam found you," she announced. "Dean was worried…"

"Dean talked about me?" I asked.

Charlie nodded with a smile, "Oh yes, and I can see why."

Her green eyes stared at me for a moment.

Shaking my head, I chuckled and said, "And what did he say about me?"

"That you're a cambion," she said.

"Do you know what a Cambion is?" I asked.

She paused, hesitating, "You're half demon and half human."

I nodded.

"But Sam says you're a good cambion," she added, then groaned. "Say, can you heal wounds?"

"Sadly, no, but once we reach the cabin, I need to check on your wounds," I said.

"You're a doctor?" she asked.

"I was a nurse during the Vietnam War," I answered.

Her eyes widened, "Oh."

Charlie continued to ask questions, more about historical events and my opinion at the time. One would say it was bothersome, but I knew Charlie was trying to distract herself from the pain. It took some time until we reached the cabin. I grabbed my pack before leading Charlie inside, taking her to the bedroom and onto the bed.

She groans while I get the medical supplies ready.

"All right, show me the wound," I said.

Charlie nodded as she lifted her shirt, exposing the wound. It was indeed a bullet wound that grazed her skin. She indeed has dental floss keeping her wound together. However, she did not do a good job.

"So, I take it, I need to redo it," she said.

"I can, I just need to give you some pain meds," I said, pulling out a bottle of pills. I grab the right amount, giving them to her along with a water bottle.

"Bottoms up," she said, swallowing them.

The next hour was spent treating Charlie as I restitched her wound. Of course, Charlie passed out, making things a bit easier. Once she was taken care of, I warped her clothes into something comfortable before securing the area. I went to different parts of the property to draw sigils that would mask curse objects. After that was settled, I went back inside, staring at Charlie's bag on the couch.

I sat across from it, staring at the bag. The Book of the Damned was in there. I had tried to keep myself occupied. However, now that Charlie was asleep, I was alone with the book inside the bag. Though covered, the voices whispered in my head in ancient language,

I have encountered curse objects, but this…this was no ordinary object. No, this object has been exposed to the dark arts, made out of human flesh and blood. Made from the insanity that was exposed to corruption. The makers made it out of themselves while possessed by something dark. Darker than witchcraft, darker than demon magic. Darker than darkness itself.

I took a deep breath; it would be several hours before the Winchesters arrived. Until then, I got myself comfortable and closed my eyes. Being lulled to sleep by the darkness.

.o0o.

When morning came, I fed Charlie some actual food before we did our research. Charlie explained the history of the Book of the Damned, along with an illustration of the tattoo she saw of the person who attacked her. Two eagles or hawks with a shield in the center.

"Well, it's German or Swiss," I confirmed. "The problem is, the black eagle or hawk is a common design for ancient crests if we are dealing with a family."

"Still, have you seen something like this?" Charlie asked.

I stared at the design, "It looks familiar."

But where? I thought.

Charlie nodded, "So we are dealing with an organized German crime family?"

"Something like that," I said.

Charlie nodded as she grabbed her bag and pulled out the book. The whispering presence grew louder as I stared at the book. It appeared to be fourteenth-century, with covers made of patch leather and a few dozen vellum and parchment.

"All because of this book," she said, giving it to me.

Suddenly, all those dark instincts consumed me. Charlie gasped; no doubt my cambion form that humans can see exposed. Tossing the book on the couch, I teleported to the other side of the cabin and into the kitchen. I panted, turning around, trying to control myself.

"Vivian?" Charlie gasped, coming over

I raised my hand to keep my distance, "Don't!"

Charlie stopped where she was at, at the entry to the kitchen. I took several deep breaths, trying to maintain the urge. Something I haven't felt since fighting Dean….no….not since holding the First Blade. The moment I held that book, my human half became silent, and the demon side took over. I fear what dangerous thoughts I would have if I held the book longer. Charlie's life would have been at risk.

"What happened?" Charlie asked.

"That is no ordinary book," I hissed, trying to return to my human form. "Whoever made it…. was possessed by a dark entity."

"Like a demon?" she asked.

I shook my head, "No, something worse."

Charlie took that information in, "Okay, so you can't touch it. Got it."

Soon, I got my bearings, as my markings disappeared and my vision returned to normal.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"No, we didn't know," she assured. "How about I look into the book and have you research this crest?"

"That seems fair," I agreed.

Charlie nodded as she returned to the living room, grabbed the book, and put it away in her bag. It helped a little, but not enough. In the meantime, Charlie looked through the library that was here on the ancient text. At the same time, I took the laptop going over the crest, searching through a catalog of German families, both active and extinct.

For hours, we worked until Charlie dozed off and fell asleep on a book. I debated taking her to bed, but I let her rest. I continued my search, finding it infuriating how similar the crests were. I debated whether this was an organization, either occult or standard. The crest looked awfully familiar, for I have seen it.

I closed my eyes, trying to remember where I saw it. It was when I encountered the Thule during World War Two. Cain and I were trying to secure his collection. There was a man. He had this crest on a pin attached to his jacket. He looked at me with fascination and intrigue as if he knew I was no mortal.

"I thought your family was dead by now after Shelley exposed you," Cain told him.

"We had to change our name, but we always pull ourselves back together," the man said.

"Don't you mean harvest yourselves back together," Cain said.

As Cain yanked the sleeve, exposing three different skin tones, his hand was pale, his arm olive, and his elbow dark brown. Scars were all where medical stitching would join the flesh.

"Charlie!" Sam called out, snapping me out of a memory. "Vivian!"

I mentally cursed, for I almost got that name. It was on the tip of my tongue.

Meanwhile, Charlie snapped awake with a piece of paper stuck on her cheek as she mumbled, "Merry Christmas."

Sam and Dean came into the cabin carrying boxes. They set the boxes down.

"Hey," Dean greeted.

"Were you followed?" Charlie asked as she stood, giving Dean a hug.

"No, no," Dean assured, returning the hug.

They pulled away after a moment, as Sam came in giving her a hug, "How you feeling?"

"Um…I may have just passed out, but better," Charlie said. "Viv gave me some good painkillers."

They glanced at me, to which I nodded. "Her wounds are fine. It'll scar, but she will live."

Dean nodded with an appreciated expression, "Where's the book?"

"Okay, here's what I've learned so far," Charlie said as she grabbed the book. "About seven hundred years ago, a nun locked herself away after having 'visions of darkness.' After a few decades, squirreled away by herself, she emerged with this." She presented the book. "Each page is made out of slices of her own skin written in her blood."

"I think this nun was exposed to the entity that resides in the Mark," I said, still far away from the book.

"What makes you think that?" Sam asked.

"Because I can sense the same energy," I answered. "The same as the Mark."

"I told you, it's eekish," Charlie said, showing the pages before handing it to Sam. "According to the notes I found, it's been owned and used by cults, covens, and the Vatican had it for a while. There's a spell inside that thing for everything. Talking some black mass, dark magic, end-of-time nastiness. As far as what language it's written in, I'm thinking it's some kind of, uh…"

As Charlie was saying it, Dean fell into some sort of trance. His face became neutral, while his green eyes focused on the book. The atmosphere changed, the whispers lessened, to near silence as I sensed the book and the mark's presence, calling out to each other in a low hum.

Sam then passed the book to Dean.

"Don't!" I yelled.

Dean's grip tightened on the book as he fell deeper into the trance. His eyes became vacant, his skin pale, while the Mark, though hidden under his jacket, throbbed. I pulled Sam and Charlie away, not sure what would happen. Will the Mark possess Dean again, returning to the demon side or worse?

"Dean," I called out. "Dean."

Dean, still in a trance, walked over to the kitchenette. Turning the pages, his lips moving as if trying to read the ancient text. I got closer to him.

"Dean," I exclaimed with a command.

That seemed to snap him out of it, as he blinked a few times, "What?"

Sam and Charlie looked at each other with concern, while Dean noticed he was in the kitchen, not the main room. He glanced at the book, noting his finger over the symbols. Quickly, he closed the book, walked around me, and handed it back.

"I don't think it's a good idea that I touch this," Dean suggested.

"I had a similar reaction," I said. "That book is somehow connected to the Mark."

Charlie came over, taking the book.

"I'll go get the rest of our crap," Dean said before walking out of the cabin.

Charlie, still shocked, stared at Sam and me; concern was written on her face.

"What the hell was that?" she asked.

Sam took a deep breath, "He's not getting better. He's trying to cover, but…we need to find that cure, fast."

He then took custody of the book.

"You two focus on translating the book," I said. "Dean and I will find out who is after it."

Both Sam and Charlie agreed.

.o0o.

It took Dean a while to come back inside. Keeping a distance, Sam took the book to the bedroom while Dean and I were in the main room. Dean grabbed some boxes about the occult and other organizations that were into curse artifacts. I sat next to him, and he relaxed a little.

"Okay, I got a pretty good look at his tattoo," Charlie said, handing the drawing to Dean. "It's something like this."

"The douche clan, Got it." Dean said, setting the drawing down. "Well, this is everything Men of Letters had on occult families, so there should be something in there."

Charlie nodded as she went to the bedroom.

"The illustration shows it's German or at least Eastern European," I said.

"Well, that helps," Dean murmured.

"I think I encountered someone with this crest," I said quietly.

Dean looked at me, "When?"

"Back in World War Two, when the Thule tried to steal Cain's collection," I murmured.

Dean took that information in, "We have dealt with the Thule before."

"You have?" I asked.

Dean nodded, "A few years ago when they murdered a Rabbi who used a golem on them back in 1944. Rabbi Bass found the Red Ledger, and the Thule killed him for it."

"So, there is a possibility we are dealing with the Thule, or at least a branch of it," I said quietly.

"Maybe," Dean whispered. "Can you remember anything from that night?"

I frowned, "The man who wore that pin, Cain, knew him or at least his family. How Shelley had killed the family name. The man's arm… had three different skin tones. Sadly, the building was struck by a tank, and all hell broke loose."

Dean took that information in.

We were silent as we went through the records, trying to find any occults or organizations with German or Eastern European names. As we were doing this, we could hear Sam and Charlie talking.

"Got anything?" Charlie asked.

"Maybe," Sam replied. "Uh, yeah, it's all in the obscure Sumerian dialect. Actually, found a rough match for it in this book."

"Great," Charlie said.

"I thought so, too, but I've been translating, but none of the translated words make any sense. It's all just gibberish. I mean, maybe it's in a different dialect?"

"No, no, no. You're right, but I-I think…I think this is in code."

"An entire book of unreadable text that's also in code. Great."

"And you call yourselves nerds!" Dean called out, shaking his head. "Come on. You got this.

I chuckled softly.

"He's right," Charlie agreed, sounding amused. "Let's get our Alan Turing on, decrypt this bitch."

I glanced at Dean, noting his concern. The book was calling to him as it was calling to me. I placed my hand on his knee, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Dean took a deep breath, yet he was staring at the book from afar.

Sam must have noticed it as he said, "You know what, Charlie? Why, uh… Um, why don't we stick with my notes for a little bit? This book is literally making my eyes hurt."

A moment later, the book was in the warded cursed box. The whispering in the back of my head became silent. I sighed in relief, feeling the tension lessen dramatically so that I could breathe. I did not have this urge to grab the book. Dean could sense it, too.

Time went on as Dean went through the files while I searched the internet. Both of us were deep in our concentration as Dean showed me more names and crests to see if there was any connection. Even images from World War Two of men would trigger my memory, until one image came up of the Thule with the man from the past.

"That's him," I whispered, pointing at the man who was not wearing a Nazi uniform.

Dean pulled out the file and reviewed the list of the Thule's names. I whispered the names until I stopped at Bastien Styne.

"Bastien Styne," I whispered, my voice heavy in a German accent. "Styne…"

Whatever you do, stay away from the Styne family, Cain's voice whispered in my head. They are collectors just like I, only they will do more harm to the world."

I grabbed the box, searched the organization, and reached the S. I went to the back and found the Styne family. Quickly, I searched through the file, pulling out documents about the Styne family. Dean leaned in as we read the file. On the corner was the symbol, two of them, one with the cross on the shield and another with the letter F. It goes back to the 18th century to the original house of Frankenstein. We continue to read it, as the Men of Letters believe they were using a book of Unspeakable Evil. Collaborating with Nazis before the regime and the possibility of having a hand in Archduke Ferdinand's assassination. They may have played a part in war-triggering events, natural disasters, or accidents.

Charlie came over, sitting on the couch frustrated, "Okay, even the Bletchley Circle couldn't crack this thing. I've tried every cryptographic algorithm there is. Goose Egg."

"Well, maybe that's not such a bad thing," Dean said, taking the file from me and the drawing. "Those people following you . . . Hmm? All kinds of wrong. Talking multi-generational, centuries-old wrong. The Styne family. Men of Letters files have them dated back to the early 1800's."

He got up and went to the kitchen when Sam came out.

"They have connections to the Thule, mainly in the use of spells to create disasters, such as disease, market crash, and support the Nazi," I said, handing the file to Charlie.

"And that is before they came into power, and they profited from all of it," Dean added, getting himself a drink.

Sam took a seat next to Charlie, reading the file.

"So, they're like the Supernatural Du Ponts?" Charlie asked.

"Basically," Dean answered, turning around with his coffee. "All the spells they used came from a Book of 'Unspeakable Evil,' which they lost nearly a hundred years ago."

"Okay, so they're bad," Sam said. "So what? We faced worse."

"Sam, read the file," Dean said, making his way over. "The way the book works is when you use it, there is a negative reaction. I'm talking biblical negative. Dark magic always comes with a price. We know that. We've been down that road before."

"Well, let's at least translate it and see what it says," Charlie suggested.

I shook my head, "That book is alive. It has been whispering to Dean and I. Calling to those who have the Mark or are sired by it."

This shocked them.

"I can hear it," Dean confirmed. "It wants us to use it, but not for good. Look, I wanted it to be the answer, too, okay? I really did. But we have got to get rid of that. Burn it, bury it, I don't give a damn. We'll just have to find another way to fix the Mark."

"Like what?" Sam challenged.

Dean tried to find his words, then shook his head and sipped his coffee. "I don't know."

"So, you're giving up?" Charlie asked.

"No, I'm not giving up," Dean assured, baffled that she would say that. "Charlie, I don't have a death wish. Okay, even if I did, I can't die, not with this thing on my arm. What I can do is I can fight it as long as I can until …"

"Until what?" Sam asked, standing up. "Tell me. Until what, Dean? Until I watch you become a demon again? Until then? I can't do that. I won't do that."

Dean sighed, "Well, then you'll just have to lock me up. Bind me to the Bunker like you did last time."

Sam shook his head.

"That doesn't solve anything," Charlie said as she stood up.

"Look, just let us translate the book, okay?" Sam suggested. "If there's a cure, we'll do it and deal with the consequences later."

"Nothing good comes out of it," I said. "Even Cain searched for it, so no human could have it."

"I can't lose him," Sam snapped.

My eyes widened, staring at him.

"Really?" Dean asked quietly.

"Yeah, really," Sam answered.

"You change your mind on that 'cause that's not what you said last time," Dean reminded.

"What happened last time?" I asked.

Sam groaned, "Oh, come on, man. You know I didn't mean that."

"This is my cross to bear, Sam." Dean bellowed. "Mine. And that book is not the answer. Now, we got to destroy it before it falls into the wrong hands, and that includes me."

There was tension between the brothers and Charlie's concern for Dean in the room. As much as I wish the Book of the Damned to have the answers, I can sense pure evil in that book. One that calls to Dean and I. It made it clear that I needed to talk to Castiel about doing the transfer and using the cursed dagger.

"I'm gonna go for a drive," Dean said, setting his coffee down. "Uh, Charlie, we forgot to pick up your snacks."

Charlie sighed.

"Dean, look," Sam started.

"We'll figure out another way," Dean interrupted, heading to the door and grabbing his jacket. "And, Sam, I'll get my vacation. But not today. Not like this."

Afterward, Dean left, almost slamming the door.

Sam sighed.

"Sam," Charlie murmured. "Maybe he's right."

"No," Sam muttered. "No, there's a way to fix it. There has to be."

"But not with this book," I said. "I was sired by the Mark Sam, and I can sense its dark presence. We will find a way, but not with this book."

Sam shook his head as he went back to his research.

.o0o.

I continue to do more research about the Styne family. Sam and Charlie were doing their own research, either to destroy the book or to contain it. One solution was burning it with holy oil. It seemed like a plausible option at this moment. Otherwise, the next option is to bury it in the box, maybe have Castiel or I hide it in a cave deep in the tallest mountain or lost in the deep—or better yet, in a volcano.

Charlie sighed as she closed her laptop, "What did you mean? When he said you changed your mind?"

Sam paused before giving a tired chuckle as he closed his laptop, "So…a while back, we had a chance to, um … close the gates of hell. And in order to do that, I would've had to die, and I was okay with that, and I am okay with that, but Dean was not. And so, he, uh…"

He struggled with his words.

"He saved you," Charlie finished.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, he saved me."

"And let me guess, in doing so, he did something you didn't want, and that pissed you off," Charlie assumed. "And you said something that hurt him?"

Sam smiled a little, chuckling, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Brothers," Charlie muttered as she stood up, heading to the kitchen. "You know, I haven't been a hunter for very long, but it feels like this is the life. Mostly ends in Sophie's choices, death, or tears. Usually all of the above, huh?"

Sam chuckled at that.

"How did this become my life?" She asked her rhetorical question. "I mean, I was gonna own my start-up, marry Scarjo, invent something cool. Now I'm just…I'm just happy to be alive."

"You know, when Dean came to get me at school, I-I told myself…one last job, you know. one more job." Sam said. "And then when – when I, um…when I lost Jess, I again told myself, one more job. There's always one more job, you know? And one more job. And one more job, and then I was gonna go back to law and - and to my life."

"You were the dread pirate Roberts of hunting," Charlie referenced.

We chuckled at that.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, realizing it. "I guess I really understand now that…this is my life. I love it. But I can't do it without my brother. I don't want to do it without my brother. And if he's gone, then I don't…

"I-I got it," Charlie agreed. "I do."

Sam rubbed his chin, grasping that he was afraid to lose his brother and unsure what to do afterward. Hearing this made me realize I have to make this right.

.o0o.

I was writing notes, putting down my knowledge of the Styne family. It seems the Men of Letters knew of the black market in body parts and organs that the Styne family did. However, they were not selling it to make a profit. No, they were harvesting to use on themselves. Body modification, Cain would say, is to improve oneself for near immortality. Cain had confronted them countless times, which resulted in a bloodbath until he went to Mississippi. Other than World War Two, he has not confronted them since.

I tried to remember as much as Cain reported.

Suddenly, the door burst open as Dean came in, slamming and locking it. He seemed in distress, as his appearance showed he was in a fight.

"What happened?" I asked, standing up.

"The Stynes, they found me," Dean answered, out of breath, while holding an old clay oil jug.

"How?" I asked.

"They found the gas station where Charlie made her call, they killed the clerk, and I realized who they were. They tried to kill me, only to discover the Mark." He answered. "They know of the Mark."

I frowned, "We need to go."

"No, we need to burn the book," Dean said.

Sam and Charlie comprehend this as Dean makes his way over to the fireplace. He set everything up to prepare for the burning. I went to the bedroom, grabbing the cursed box that contained the Book of the Damned. A hiss could be heard, for it can sense what is about to happen. Ignoring the whispers, I brought it over to Dean.

"The douches are all jacked up, too," Dean added, putting holy oil in the fire.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

"I emptied a full clip into one of them before the son of a bitch went down," Dean explained.

"Dean, what are you doing with holy oil?" Sam asked.

"There is a cure for the mark in the book," Dean replied as he grabbed the box from me. "But it comes at a price."

Another car coming in could be heard, sensing three men on the premises, "They're here."

Dean cursed, "We got to destroy it."

"Are you sure about this?" Sam asked, hesitant.

"It's calling to me, Sam, okay," Dean confirmed his decision. "I can hear it. It's calling to the Mark. It wants me to take the book and run away with it."

A sound of creaking could be heard. I shushed everyone, making my way to the shattered door and altering the locks to make them secure.

"Burn it, now," Dean ordered, handing the box to Sam while pulling out his gun.

Sam hesitated.

Dean went to one of the windows, "Sam, burn it now."

Suddenly, one of the Stynes came in, tackling Dean through the window. As another one did to Charlie. Knowing Dean could take care of himself, I ran over to Charlie to help her. The man grabbed a chair and was about to slam it on her, yet I stepped in, taking the blow. Conjuring all my strength, it shatters on impact. I growled, exposing my purple eyes. His eyes widened as I grabbed him by the throat, pinning him to the wall.

Charlie got up, stabbing the man repeatedly in the torso. He cried out, but it was not working.

"The heart," I yelled.

Charlie nodded, stabbing the man in the heart. He groaned in agony, trying to stop it, yet Charlie went deeper, twisting the blade. Afterwards, she yanked the blade out. Sensing his death, I removed my hand. Turning around to see Dean slamming a chair on his attacker.

"Dean, headshot!" I yelled.

Dean tried to reach for his gun, but the man tried to tackle him. Dean stumbles back, kicking the man away. He pulled his gun, shooting the man in the head. The door burst open, entering a man in a tailor's suit. He resembled Bastien, but he was not the man from long ago. Dean aimed his gun, shooting at him, getting the man in his chest and arm, lethal wounds, except he stood there irritated.

His attention then turned to the fireplace as Sam tossed the Book of the Damned into the fire.

"You silly boy," he muttered in a Cajun accent.

He made his way, except Dean continued to fire at him. I tackled Charlie to the ground so she wouldn't be shot. She yelped, covering her head while I protected her. Glancing up, I saw Styne grab Sam by the throat, lifting him in the air. Sam tried to fight, stabbing him in the stomach with a bowie knife. However, it did not phase Styne.

Until Sam turned the blade, I could hear the severeness of the spine snapping. As Styne fell to the ground. Dead.

Once secure, I stood up, helping Charlie as we stared at the fireplace seeing the book of the Damn being burned. A chance of freeing Dean from the Mark was no more. A sacrifice we had to make, for dark magic will always have a price.

.o0o.

We altered the cabin and burned the bodies. When I checked their pockets, I found a wallet in the one in the suit named Jacob Styne. Based on his dress, he must have been part of a prominent family. He also had a strange device with the Styne Crest—a compass similar to what Cain gave me.

"What is that?" Charlie asked.

The needle spun around until I thought of something, in which it swirled, then pointed at Dean, who was occupied making a firepit.

"A tracking compass," I answered. "Think of something you want that will point you in the right direction. It must be how they found you."

Charlie nodded.

I continue my search, finding more body modifications, with medical scarring. I placed my hand over his chest, sensing vital organs that were not his. Organs that belong to people who were physically adapted for strength and endurance. The only organ that was his own was his damn liver and intestines. Where Sam stabbed him.

"Fucking bastard," I muttered.

"What?" Charlie asked.

"He modified himself," I answered, checking the other two. They all did."

"What do you mean modify themselves?" Sam asked as he came over.

I sighed, sitting on the ground, "It was a side comment, Cain said, and the Men of Letters reported the trade in organ harvesting before transplants were a thing. I just realized they experimented on themselves to be the perfect human."

Dean came over, "One that withstands bullets."

I nodded.

What did we get ourselves into? I thought.

.o0o.

Once the bodies were disposed of and the cabin fixed, we drove back to the Bunker. Dean and Charlie dropped Sam and me off before they took off to get dinner. I excused myself and headed to my bedroom, for I needed to find more answers about the Styne family. The only way to be sure is to read the journals.

I debated as I sat on the bed with the three journals that Cain wrote. He must have written about the incident when the Thule tried to steal his European collection. However, I still do not have the strength to open those journals. If I open them, it would mean I have forgiven Cain. I placed a hand on my chest, where the scar was, where he stabbed me with the cursed dagger.

A place where I am about to ask Castiel to do the same.

I wanted to scream, yet I held it in as I glared at the three journals.

Suddenly, there was a knock that snapped me out of my trance.

"Viv, Pizza time," Dean called out.

I blinked, gaining my composure, "Coming."

Correcting my attire, I put the journals away before making my way out.

Dean stood there with concern, "You alright?"

"Yeah, just suppressing all those dark emotions," I said. "The book is like the First Blade."

Dean looked at me for a moment, then nodded. We stared at each other for a moment, grasping how close we were to falling into those temptations—the monster that was inside of us.

Dean led the way to the kitchen, where Castiel was with Sam and Charlie. I stepped back, sensing Castiel had his full grace. My instincts told me to run or fight him. Castiel stared at me, for he, too, must have sensed it.

"You have your grace," I noted.

"Yes, my grace, it's been restored," Castiel confirmed.

"He even healed my bullet wound and carpal tunnel," Charlie informed cheerfully.

"That's good," I forced out a smile.

"Is everything alright?" Charlie asked.

"Just natural instincts," I assured her.

"Cambions and Angels are natural enemies," Castiel explained. "We are both fighting our instincts to not kill one another."

"Oh, um," Charlie wasn't sure what to say.

"No fighting, kids," Dean said, wrapping an arm around me before leading me to the table.

I snorted since both Castiel and I were older than Dean.

Either way, I managed to suppress the instinct as we gathered around the table, eating pizza, drinking beer, and talking. Laughter and stories were passed around. We were all trying to be normal. Even Charlie pulled out an origami fortune teller and did it with Castiel, which Dean burst out laughing. I chuckled, only to notice that Sam was not joining the fun. He was deep in thought; one person made a selfish mistake and was debating on the next step.

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