A New Kind of Life (A Supernatural Fan Fiction)

What Must Be

I am a demon.

The lines between where I was and the pit seemed blurred now. It was like I could feel, hear, and see both places at once. It felt like torture. I knew that place, I had been forced into it, and now it was as if I was being sucked back in. I stayed where I was, not moving, just breathing. I could feel Crowley's eyes on me. 

All of this time, I thought that this was death.

I'd suffered death before, but I knew that everything was screwy still. Everyone was back where they belonged and Kevin and everyone who had died over the past couple months was out of the Veil and in Heaven now, but I was still somewhere here. I thought that this was maybe I was still in the Veil or something. But no. I was a demon, somewhere between my human home and my demon home. I was not dead. But I wished I was.

"That's my boy." Crowley smirked.

"Don't. Call. Me. That. I'm not your anything." I growled.

My first words came out strange. They sounded angrier than they should've. This calm rage flooded through me, this rage that I didn't know how to understand. I let my grip tighten around the First Blade, and the Mark began to burn in a way that I hadn't felt before. It was harder, more intense, and the feeling that it gave me buzzed violently inside of me. 

"Join me, Dean. I can help you." Crowley said.

"Help me?" I reply.

I darted up, my grip hard around the First Blade. I moved so fast that I couldn't even explain it, and before I could even process anything, my arm was slammed against his chest and the blade was pressed up against his neck. How easy it would be to kill him, to kill this sick person that I hated so much. My hatred was swirling around in the pit of my stomach, churning and growing and spinning inside of me violently.

"How can you help me?" 

"Easy, Dean. Trust me." 

"Why should I trust you? You LIED to me!" 

"I never lied! I witheld the truth. That is all. I never lied."

I let out a low growl and slammed him against the wall before releasing him. The Blade still tight in my fist, I began slowly pacing around the room. It just wasn't settling into my mind. How could I be a demon? How could I be the thing that I slayed? How could I be one of the things that...

One of the things that killed my mom?

The thought made my head spin. I couldn't be, but I knew that I was. I wasn't human anymore. Maybe I'd never been really human. The closest I'd come to being human was when I spent that year with Lisa and Ben. I'd always been a hunter. I was a killer and I was a murderer and I was a bad person, but at least I wasn't what I was becoming now. I was a hunter. But now I couldn't even be that. I couldn't be a hunter. I was the exact opposite of a hunter now. I was what hunters hunted. I was a monster.

I'm a demon. 

The word demon kept replaying in my ears. I could hear screaming in my ears, other demons and the souls that were trapped in Hell ringing in my ears. Was this what it was like for everybody? The hissing and screaming enveloped me, whispering to me, telling me that all of this was a mistake. And I knew that it was a mistake. Because the Mark of Cain is going to make me into something that I never intended to become.

"I can help you, Dean Winchester." Crowley swore.

"How?" I asked, rage seeping into my voice.

"Well first, I can help you stop the voices in your head. I know that you hear them."

"I can handle that. What are you going to do to help me? Unless you can fix me, then I don't want your help."

"I can't fix you. But I can teach you how to control the things you're feeling."

"I'll teach myself."

"I can help you kill Metatron."

This sparked my attention. It really did. I wanted him dead more than I wanted anything else. I wanted to at least do what I had set out to do. I bit my lip and turned back, pacing back and forth again. I needed to be able to think, and this seemed to be helping a little.

I knew that I was going to become a killer and a murderer and something worse. The pain in my chest grew more and more intense as I paced back and forth, forming a rut in the carpet, I'm sure. I didn't know what to do. Did I accept Crowley's help? I knew that I needed to kill Metatron, but what then? I couldn't come back. I was going to hurt Sammy and Cas and anybody that I might have left. I didn't have many people left to hurt though, which was the only thing that sort of made me feel better, but not really.

The cold, rigid rage bubbled up inside of me. Creatures like me were what killed all the people that I loved. They killed Ellen and Jo and my dad and my mom and everybody. They destroyed lives. They were what killed me on the inside. The rage boiled inside of me, running over as I let out a low grunt, my grip tightening around the blade as I paced back and forth, staring at the ground beneath my feet, listening to the screams of Hell inside of my ear. I could hear everybody. I could hear Jo and Ellen and Dad and Adam (oh crap, we forgot Adam) and all the people I failed to save. 

I had nothing. I thought that death had been my lucky escape. Even if I did go to the Pit, at least I couldn't hurt anybody down there. I feared that someone would pull me out, but I didn't want to be pulled out. I wanted to Mark to go away and disappear forever. I wanted it to vanish. I didn't want to pass it to someone else. I wanted it to die with me.

But it wasn't going to let me go. It didn't want to let go. Without me, it couldn't survive, and that was all it really wanted to do. The Mark of Cain was stronger than me, and now it was destroying me from the inside out. It made me hurt Sam. It made me go into overkill mode and... Now I had nothing left to lose.

I was already a demon. I accepted the Mark of Cain and now there was no going back. I didn't have a cure right now. I didn't have anything right now. I couldn't go to Sam. I couldn't drag him into this. I couldn't go to Cas either. I knew that, with Cas's grace burning out and who knew what was happening with Metatron and... I couldn't throw my problems on him, not again. I was either going to have to go at this alone again...

Or I could accept help from the one place where it was being offered.

I could kill him. I could kill Metatron. I could kill the embodiment of pure evil, the only person who matched Lucifer himself. All I had to do... All that I had to do was accept Crowley's help. It was humiliating and awful and I knew it was going to end badly because there was no other possible way that it could end.

What did I honestly have to lose? 

I have nothing left to lose. No Sammy. No Cas. I can't hunt now, can I? I'm going to be evil. Every demon has done something to kill innocent people. Of course, I've gotten innocent people killed, but I've got nothing left to lose. I stopped pacing and finally turned to Crowley, cursing myself for what I was about to say. 

All I have left is a need to kill Metatron. To do that, I needed Crowley's help. So I was going to finally say it. The words that would spark it all. This was going to end badly, but for it to end, it needed to begin.

"When do we start?"