Back in the bunker, Josie sat in front of Dean's bed, where Sam laid his brother for the time being, before preparing his cremation. The brunette just stared at the floor, she wanted to tell him so many things, especially that she was sorry she hadn't listened to him... And that she loved him.
"Josie?" she heard from across the hall, "I'm done!"
Weary, she stood up and stroked Dean's cheek. With tears in her eyes, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and leaned her head against his for a moment, she had to say goodbye slowly.
Sam was waiting for her with a glass of foul-smelling liquid. It was the healing potion that would reverse her transformation. She shuffled dejectedly into the kitchen and drank the glass empty without batting an eye. She didn't care that it tasted awful and the sage left a bitter taste on her tongue. Josie was just functioning, much like a robot.
"How can you stand it?" the huntress asked without looking at Sam.
"Me? Well, you harden eventually, I've seen Dean die so many times, but it still hurts every time. I console myself with the thought that nothing is forever, not even death"
"And what if this time he doesn't come back?"
At the same moment they heard loud rumbling. Startled, the hunters looked at each other and hurried into Dean's room. In disbelief, Josie stared at the large bloodstain on the sheet in which the dead hunter was wrapped. There was no sign of Dean, however.
"Dean?" called Sam a few times, running searchingly through the hallways.
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"He's gone, how can that be? He was just here before I left the room!" noted Josie.
"The blade is gone too!" the Winchester informed, standing in front of the hiding place where the box was missing.
*
Meanwhile, Cain laid Dean's lifeless body on a table. As a Knight of Hell, it was easy for him to teleport to him and away again along with the hunter and his blade. Unfortunately, he knocked over the lamp when he tried to lift Dean. Leisurely Cain walked around his kitchen table and looked at the Winchester. He had come to collect his tribute. Dean had died and so his soul now belonged to the demon.
"You will not be able to escape the Mark, my friend, it will always come back for you to murder, for it craves blood," the demon spoke, retrieving the knife from the stolen box.
As if sensing the presence of the blade, the mark began to pulsate. The steady pumping set Dean's heart racing, and no sooner had Cain placed the handle in his hand than the Winchester sucked in a sharp breath and sat bolt upright on the table. Abruptly he opened his eyes. They were deep black, like those of a demon. He looked at the Knight of Hell, who smirked only slightly.
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"Welcome back Dean," he greeted him with amusement.
Slowly Dean turned his head and with a blink the black eyes disappeared.
"Where the hell am I?" he asked without looking at Cain.
"In your own personal hell. But right now, on my kitchen table," the sole surviving knight scoffed.
"I can feel it," Dean informed him, sliding off the edge of the table.
He tensed his arm and looked at the sign on it.
"I was dead, I remember that brief moment in Purgatory," the Winchester continued speaking, looking up at Cain slightly questioningly.
"And you'll wish you could get back there," Cain said, handing Dean a beer.
"That means, with this mark, I'm immortal. And invincible, too? I could just kill you like the other knights!" the freshly made demon grinned and was about to reach for the bottle, but flew across the room.
Hard he landed on the wall and then on the floor.
"Go ahead and try, kid, but I've been alive for several millennia. You, on the other hand, for just the blink of an eye," Cain spoke unimpressed, drinking his beer with relish.
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"Okay, message understood," Dean groaned in pain and scrambled to his feet.
A few bones cracked as he moved to set himself.
"I would guess you had a reason for this? I'm not really dead, so you can't have my soul! What do you want from me?" growled Dean, trying to exhibit the same patience as Cain, yet sensing only unspeakable rage and murderousness within him.
"There's something I need you to do for me," Cain began, telling him of a new deal, "If you do this, I'll take the mark back and you can die peacefully. If you do your job well we can also talk about the whereabouts of your soul."
"Why would I want to die? For the first time in my life, I feel good... so liberated," Dean gushed, unable to help staring at the symbol that had turned blood red.
"Trust me, you'll wish for it sooner or later!" smirked Cain knowingly.
"Then I guess you'll have to wait until then," Dean replied with a shrug, taking a sip from his beer bottle.
"Oh don't worry Dean, I have the time and the patience!"
