Chapter 20 Shame (Part 2)
Hope was fine for two more days. In that time she read most of the Supernatural books--all of the ones that had been originally published--and helped Sam, Dean, and Cas do research on killing the Knights of Hell. She was still upset with the younger Winchester, but at least now she would talk to him.
On the after noon of the third day, Hope was carrying a tray of snacks from the kitchen to the study where they were working on decoding an old Men of Letters book. Suddenly, a white hot pain shot through her and she crumpled to the ground, the tray banging noisily against the tile floor.
"Hope?" Dean called, alarmed. He ran to the hall where she lay, trying to sit up. "What's wrong? What happened?"
Castiel came running into the room behind him. "Let me see her." He ordered, and Dean obeyed, pulling Hope into his lap and turning so Cas could examine her. The angel placed a hand on her forehead and frowned. "It's her grace. Or, what's left of it. I repaired it, but it's burning again."
"Can you fix it?" Dean demanded. It was obvious that Hope was in pain; her eyes were squeezed shut and her face was pale and tight. Her small hands were curled into fists. Dean stroked her arm, hating that there was nothing he could do to make it stop. "Cas?"
Castiel's blue eyes were uncertain, but his voice was determined. "I can try" he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, looking in at Hope's grace to try to find what exactly was wrong. The normally cool whitish-blue light was now a flaming shade of orange. Cas got to work.
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"Is she okay?" Sam asked as Dean came out of his room. He had just placed Hope in his bed to sleep off the damage that her torn grace had caused. Cas said that he thought he had fixed it and that she would be okay, if a bit weak, but Dean was on the war path.
"For now." He told his brother. "Listen...can you keep an eye on her door a while. I need to do something."
"Uh, yeah." Sam looked concerned. "You're not gonna do something stupid, are you? Dean-"
"I'll be fine, Sammy. Just take care of Hope. Call me if anything changes. And if she wakes up while I'm gone, tell her I'll be back soon." With that he walked out of the bunker to the Impala, started her up, and drove off. He needed to find Abbadon. And, more importantly, a way to kill her.
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Dean and Crowley pulled up to a farmhouse in Missouri. The tracking spell they had gotten from Tara had led here; the First Blade must be somewhere inside.
After Dean left the bunker Crowley found him, spinning some tale about the First Blade, the weapon the archangels used to execute the Knights of Hell. There was an entry in John's journal about a demon who supposedly knew its location, and that led them to Tara, a hunter who had worked with John to exorcise the demon. Now they were here. God knows why the most powerful weapon in the world would be hidden with a friggin' beekeeper. Dean thought, but he didn't say anything, just got out of the Impala, Crowley close behind.
"Wait." Crowley said, stopping.
"What?"
"I'm feeling something." Crowley hissed, squinting to try to identify the feeling.
Dean scoffed. "What, cramps?"
Crowley shook his head. "I feel something dark."
"Darker than you?" Dean asked.
Crowley was about to retort when he noticed a man in a beekeeper suit tending bee hives over by the house. "Oh, no. We need to leave here now."
"What, are you allergic to bees?"
"That's not a beekeeper." Crowley snapped. "That's the father of murder."
Dean rolled his head. "Sorry. Who?"
"It's Cain."
"As in Cain and Abel?" Dean asked.
"Dean." Crowley said. "We need to be a world away from here--from him." He turned to leave and almost ran into Cain, who appeared right behind him.
"You're not going anywhere." He growled. "Crowley."
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After they talked to Cain for a while, it became clear that he had no intention of helping them. He had kicked them out in order to 'run some errands,' and now they were sneaking back in to look around.
"This is by far the dumbest idea you've ever had." Crowley whispered.
Dean snorted. "Yeah, well, it's early."
Crowley peeked into the front room quickly. "Oh, there's nothing here. Shame. Let's go."
"Hey!" Dean hissed. "Man up and start looking, okay? We don't have that much time." He looked around the living room and noticed a photograph on the mantel. He picked it up to look closer; it was an old picture of a woman. The name 'Colette' was printed across the bottom. As Dean looked closer, he saw that she was wearing a ring similar to the one he had noticed Cain had on earlier.
"Nothing. Not even porn." Crowley complained.
"Think I figured out why he went off the reservation so many years ago." Dean said, handing Crowley the picture of Colette.
Crowley examined it. "Lovely. Little plain. Who is she?"
"Cain had a similar ring on" Dean explained. "Father of murder got hitched." They looked up as all of the doors in the house locked. "He's back. Come on." Dean led the way to the front door and tried to pull it open but it was locked. "Go!"
Cain appeared behind them. He noded to the picture in Crowley's hand. "That belongs to me."
"Sorry." Crowley said, handing the picture back. "Gorgeous, by the way."
Headlights flashed from outside. Dean walked to the window and peeked out. About six demons stood in the driveway, examining the house. "I don't suppose they're with you." he asked.
"No." Cain replied sharply.
One of the demons raised his voice so it could be heard inside. "I guess we can't wait any longer. Your friend Tara was very helpful! Got downright chatty...after I peeled all her skin off. We don't want any trouble, Cain. Just want the so-called King and the Winchester. I got a new master to impress, and I'm betting bagging those two will do just that."
Dean turned to Crowley incredulously. "'Master'?"
"Abaddon." Crowley explained. "This lot all need to die. I count--"
"Too many." Dean interrupted, turning to Cain. "The whammy you put on the door to keep us in; will it keep them out?"
"For now."
Dean nodded. "I'm gonna barricade the entrances. Get ready for a fight."
"Well, good luck with that." Cain said.
"What?" Dean asked.
Cain scowled at him. "You exposed my home. You exposed me." He growled.
"Well, boo-hoo."
Cain looked slightly disappointed. "Brave, but impulsive. You truly have lived up to your reputation."
Dean scoffed. "I can't say you've lived up to yours."
"What can I say? I'm retired. If you survive, you're welcome to join me for the last meal I will eat in this house before I disappear again. It's the least I can do." Cain set his groceries down on the kitchen table. Dean and Crowley exchanged an incredulous look, then Dean started pushing furniture in front of all of the doors.
"All right, I got this." He told Crowley. "You take the front." Crowley moved to the living room, closing the glass doors behind him. Cain sat down in one of the old wooden chairs and started to pull corn out of his grocery bag. Dean stared at him. "So this is your play? Corn? What am I not getting here? I mean, it's not like you're a coward."
"Since when does the great Dean Winchester ask for help?" he asked, not looking up from his corn. "Well, that doesn't sound like the man I've read about on demon bathroom walls. Maybe you've lost your touch. Let's find out." He snapped his fingers and the door flew open. Two demons rushed in and Cain snapped his fingers again, slamming the door shut in front of the others. "Oh, don't mind me. Enjoy yourself." He told them, gesturing to Dean.
Another demon crashed through the glass window. Dean turned to face him and lunged, the demon knife in his hand. All three demons sprung into action. In a flurry of punches and kicks and thrusts of Dean's demon knife, the demons grabbed Dean and flipped him onto the table. As the hunter struggled under their grip, Cain--who had been watching the whole thing while sitting there shucking corn--leaned over to look at him. "Doing great." He said.
Dean just glared at him, finally managing to shove the demons off of him. He punched one in the face and then stabbed him, turning to the next one. Soon all three were dead. Dean looked up triumphantly at Cain. "What? Was that some kind of test?"
Cain looked pleased. "I felt connected to you right from the beginning. Kindred spirits, if you will. You and I are very much alike."
"Right. Yeah," Dean said sarcastically, "except I didn't kill my brother."
"You saved yours. Why?" Cain asked.
"Because you never give up on family--ever."
Cain raised his eyebrows. "Where's your brother now, then?"
Pain flashed in Dean's eyes, but he dismissed it. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing here, and I don't really care. Just give me the damn blade." He snapped.
Cain just shook his head. "Sorry, Dean. I have nothing to hand over."
"What?"
"I no longer have the blade." Cain explained. "It's gone."
"'Gone'?" Crowley asked. "What do you mean, 'gone'? How? The spell brought us here to you, so it has to be here."
"Your spell brought you to the source of the Blade's power." Cain corrected. "Me." He pulled up his right sleeve, revealing a raised, red mark on the skin there.
Crowley shrank back and made the sign of the cross over his heart. Dean stared at him. "Really? Now?"
"It's the bloody mark of Cain." Crowley protested.
Cain nodded. "From Lucifer himself. The mark and the blade work together. Without the mark, the blade is useless. It's just an old bone."
"A bone?" Crowley asked.
It was Dean that answered him. "The jawbone of an animal. The jawbone you used to kill Abel because he was God's favorite."
"Abel wasn't talking to God. He was talking to Lucifer. Lucifer was going to make my brother into his pet. I couldn't bear to watch him be corrupted, so I offered a deal--Abel' s soul in heaven for my soul in hell.
"Lucifer accepted...as long as I was the one who sent Abel to heaven. So, I killed him. Became a soldier of Hell. A knight."
"And Lucifer ordered you to make more." Dean inferred.
Cain nodded. "My knights and I, we did horrible things--for centuries. Bringers of chaos and darkness."
"Then you met Colette." It was more of a statement than a question.
"She knew who I was...and what I was." Cain said. "She loved me unconditionally. She forgave me." Dean found himself thinking of Hope. She knew the things Dean had done; either from her angelic Spark Notes or from the Supernatural books. She knew all of the mistakes he made, all the people he let down, and, despite it all, she loved him. "She only asked for one thing."
"To stop." Crowley guessed.
"When the knights found out, they took retribution." Cain told them sadly. "They took Colette, so I picked the First Blade back up, and it felt so good to have it in my hands again, and I slaughtered the Knights of Hell."
"Not all of them." Dean pointed out.
"No." Cain told them how Abaddon possessed Colette and escaped just as he stabbed her, leaving him alone with his dying wife. "So I buried her, and I walked away." He finished.
"Well, I'm sorry--truly." Dean said sincerely, thinking of what Abaddon had done to Hope. "But I have to stop Abbadon. So where is the Blade?"
Cain walked away from the hunter. "No."
Dean ran after him. "Hey! Listen, you soon of a bitch. You might be done killing, but I'm not."
Cain turned around and thrust Dean's demon knife into his own chest. "You never give up on anything, do you?"
"Never." Dean growled.
"Well, I do." Cain pulled the knife out of his chest and vanished.
"Cain?" Dean called. "Cain?!"
Crowley sighed. "Well, I'll stay as long as I can."
"Aren't you a peach?" Dean replied sarcastically. Suddenly Cain reappeared in the room with Crowley and Dean. "What the hell, man?" Dean exclaimed. "You in or you out? I'm getting head spins."
"I can give you the mark, Dean, if it's what you truly want." Cain said.
"What are you talking about?"
"The mark can be transferred to someone who's worthy." Cain explained.
"You mean a killer like you?" Dean asked, his voice full of scorn.
Cain nodded. "Yes."
"Can I use it to kill that bitch?"
"Yes." Cain paused. "But you have to know that with the mark comes a great burden. Some would call it a great cost."
Dean snorted. "Yeah, well, spare me the warning label. You had me at 'kill the bitch.'"
"Good luck, Dean." Cain said. "You're gonna need it."
"Yeah, I get that a lot." Dean scoffed. "Let's dance." Cain grasped Dean's right forearm with his and a glowing line of red veins spread from Cain's mark to form an identical one on Dean's forearm. Dean gasped in pain.
"Dean?" Crowley asked.
"I'm fine." He spat. "All right, where the hell did you stash the damn Blade?"
"Nothing can destroy the Blade, so I threw it to the bottom of the deepest ocean." Cain said. "It was the only way I could keep my promise to Colette. You find the Blade, kill Abaddon, but make me a promise first. When I call you--and I will call--you come find me and use the Blade on me."
"Why?" Dean asked.
"For what I'm about to do." Cain grabbed Dean and Crowley's shoulders and suddenly they were outside. All of the demons rushed into the house and Cain locked the doors behind them. A red hot light shone through the windows from inside.
"They're all trapped in there." Crowley breathed.
Dean nodded. "With him."
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Dean and Crowley sat in the Impala, parked in an abandoned lot. Crowley glanced at Dean. "He was right, you know." He said. "You are worthy."
Dean sighed. "Oh, great. Now you're gonna get all touchy-feely, too?"
"Your problem, mate," Crowley sighed, "is that nobody hates you more than you do. Believe me, I've tried."
Dean ignored him. "So, how do we find this Blade?"
"You can't search the bottom of the ocean, but I can. So, I'll find it and bring it to its new owner." Crowley said, opening his door and climbing out of the Impala.
Dean got out, as well. "I saw you, Crowley. Back at Cain's, You dusted that undercard demon, and then you just sat back and watched the main event. You knew. You knew about the mark. You knew about Abaddon and Cain. You knew all of it. And you played me. Why?"
Crowley sighed. "He would never have given me the Blade. Who can say no to you? I needed you to play along."
"You knew we were being followed, and you didn't say anything."
"Well, Cain would want to see his prize fighter up close." Crowley explained. "You plus demons equals fight night."
"Tara died. Thanks to you." Dean hissed.
"Omelets. Broken eggs. Et cetera."
Dean growled and punched Crowley. "After I kill Abaddon, you're next!"
"You don't mean that. We're having too much fun." Crowley said.
"Go find the Blade." Dean growled.
Crowley shrugged and disappeared. As soon as he was gone, Dean hissed in pain, pulling his right sleeve up to examine the mark. He sighed and climbed back into the Impala.