Dean stared down at himself, horrified, looking at the hands that he refused to believe were his own, before looking back up at the demon above him. He moved the hands, but he couldn't accept it, because those were not his hands.

"Dean," the demon was talking, it's horrifying twisted form reminding him all to much of Hell, "Dean, we need to leave," the voice sounded familiar, but it was echoing, like two, maybe three voices talking at once. And it was so loud.

He pushed himself away from the... the thing standing at the end of his bed, almost falling off the other side. "S-stop it, whatever you're doing, stop!" he demanded, confused when the demon stepped back and... smiled?

"Oh, Dean. Don't you know who I am?" the voice said again, and Dean covered his ears, making himself fall off the bed. But he didn't care at the moment. He wanted it to stop, he didn't understand what was happening... Sam. Where's Sammy? Sammy can help. He opened his mouth to call out, but stopped short when his vision cleared a bit. He could see a second layer on the demon, a second skin.

"...Crowley?" his voice sounded strange to his own ears, scratchy and rough. The demon nodded his head.

"In the flesh, Squirrel."

Dean shook his head, "What did you do to me?" he whispered, again looking down to his hands. He could see most of his body too. It wasn't human, but it was. He could see it like he had two skins, like how he saw Crowley at the moment... "What's going on?"

Crowley shook his head, "I didn't do anything. You did this to yourself, using that angelic scribe to kill yourself," Crowley rolled his eyes, "And now you're a demon, because that nasty little thing on your arm isn't ready to let you go just yet," he pointed down to where the Mark rested, and Dean made a strange, strangled noise.

"No... n-no that can't be right... I-I'm not. I can't be," he couldn't continue, panic rising in himself, his mouth opening and closing. What he saw... It proved it, he could see what Crowley looked like, red smoke shifting about, his demonic soul forming a torn and shredded man inside his meatsuit. He made a split second decision though, as Crowley came forwards. "SAM" he called out in his scratchy voice, hoping it would reach his brothers ears.


Crowley had disappeared after he called for his brother, rolling his eyes and muttering something about Hell with a sneer. Dean had curled himself into the corner, looking over himself. He had found horns on his head, long and pointed, strange because he doesn't remember there being any on the regular demons... but then again, he wasn't a normal one. He also had wings, and he only knew those to be on demons that were fallen angels, such as Lucifer. His wings were huge appendages, feathers covered it, but they looked... sickly almost, that had made it hard to curl into the corner at first, before he wrapped the warped appendages around himself, almost like a hug.

He soon heard large feet pounding towards his room, and he tried to curl himself up more, regretting calling Sam. He made a whimpering sound, not caring how he looked. He was scared of losing Sam. Of seeing his brother disgusted by him, or mad or disappointed.

He clenched his eyes shut as the door to his room opened.

"Dean?" he heard Sam, heard his footsteps coming closer, and he hugged himself tighter with his new wings, not looking at his brother. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

"N-no!" he opened his eyes and pulled away from Sam, "Don't touch me. Just, please, don't touch me," he pulled in tighter to himself, not wanting to look at Sam's face. How long could he hide it? Being a demon? Not long. Not here.

"Dean? Hey man, what's wrong?" Sam asked him, he could here the worry in his voice, the pinched words letting him know Sam was about to cry, "You were de-"

"Don't say it, please don't say it,"

"...okay," Sammy said, "Okay, I won't. Let's just get you back into bed, alright?" Dean doesn't have the time to protest before his brothers arms are gently lifting him off the floor, and he clings to his brother. Might as well take the affection and love while I still can... he thought, knowing that when Sam found out, he'd be lucky if he was just exorcised.

He doesn't want to let go, after the all to short walk back to his bed, and he clung tightly to his brother instead of laying back on his pillow, "D-don't go..." he whispered pleadingly. He knew he was acting weird, but he needed his brother at the moment, he needed his Sammy. He felt Sam nod, and he felt his brother climb into the bed next to him.

"I'm not going anywhere, Dean. I'm right here," was his brothers reply, and Dean let himself smile, for the moment, as he closed his eyes.


After his first day, while Sammy slept, he went out, found some guy a couple towns over and paid him a hell of a lot of money to try and cure him. Gave the guy the spell and what to do, and he went through with it. The guy laughed at him and called him a freak when he broke down, eight hours later, when it didn't work. He had killed him for that.

Dean had then run back to the bunker, burying himself into Sam's sleeping form for comfort, letting Sam hold him after waking him up, claiming a nightmare. Though after... after that night, things changed. Dean knew he was a demon, permanently. And soon he began shutting Sam out, closing and locking his door, pushing him away. After a week, he didn't come out for food or drink.

That was a few weeks ago now, and he knew it was the wrong choice, but he couldn't face Sam like... like this. He was a demon, a demon.


He knew Sam was worried. He hadn't eaten in... five weeks? six? He didn't know anymore. And he didn't care, he couldn't die, he'd tried to with a gun, scaring the shit out of Sam with the resounding bang that had echoed through the halls. But he was still there. He'd found the demon blade to, but that didn't kill him either. It just hurt, and he'd learned to rely on the pain it brought.

This all changed though, when Sam, or who he assumed was Sam, called Cas. The angel appeared in his room, and Dean jumped back, before pulling his wings around himself, hiding.

"Get out," he heard Cas growl, and he flinched at the sound. Cas hadn't ever sounded like that... sure he got mad at times, but he never had the promise of death in his words like he did now. Dean backed himself into the wall.

"C-can't... I can't Cas..." he mumbled, wrapping his arms around his torso, his now too big shirt slipping from his shoulders.

"Don't call me that, you abomination," Cas seethed, stepping towards him, "Now get out, before I kill you."

Dean stepped back, his back now flush against the wall, "I'm sorry Cas..." he mumbled, looking down, "Go ahead. I can't leave, I wanna but I can't cause of this damn mark... maybe an Angels touch will do the job that guns and knives can't." he curled in on himself for a moment, before unfurling and slowly stepped forwards, "Please..."

Cas stares at him, confused for a moment, but brings his hand to Deans forehead, pulling back immediately. Dean looked up, confused.

"Dean?" the angels head tilted to the side, "Is that..." Dean nodded his head.

"Yeah Cas, but... why did you stop?" he grabs Cas' hand and puts it on his forehead, "Why did you stop?! I'm a demon so kill me!" he held Cas' hand to his forehead as he closed his eyes, whimpering a little, "Kill me... get rid of it please..." he mumbled, practically begging Cas, grasping at the hand as it gently pulls away.

He falls to the floor, a broken man, "Please Cas..." he doesn't know what he's asking for anymore, but he feels a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to go get Sam, alright?" Dean hears, and practically sobs, nodding his head a bit, curling himself up on the floor. He feels the warm hand leave his shoulder and wraps his battered wings around himself.

He waits for Sammy, not caring at the moment what Sam will think. He just wants his brother, craving him from weeks of nothing. He heard the slow hesitant steps of his baby brother, and the door creaking open.

"Dean?" the whisper filled him up, a sob falling from his lips.

"Sammy" his voice is rough and grating on his throat as he tries to keep the tears in, "Sammy..." he looks up at his brother, realizing to late that his eyes must be black, because when he looks up, it's not his brother, not really, it's a Sam shaped ball of bright light, pale blue with streaks of an angry purple.

"Dean... w-what," he hears Sam take a step back and clenches his eyes shut, bringing his hands up to hold his head, a few tears escaping his eyes.

"S-s'rry S'mmy..." he managed to get out before, tears were running down his face, his back pressing against the wall and his knees up in, shielding his physical body as his wings hid his demonic one from view, "I s'rry!" he cried out.

He felt a hesitant hand on his shoulder, and looked up, his eyes green again, into Sam's face. He saw a soft smile, and was confused by the lack of disgust in his face. He closed his eyes again, not wanting to kid himself, when he felt Sam's grip become more sure, and his hands move and shift so he was being hugged.

"It's okay Dean, just let it out. I'm here now, I got ya," he heard Sam say, and he couldn't stop the tears that began to fall then, as his little brother rocked him back and forth. He felt Sam's lips against his ear as he buried his face into the crook of Sam's neck, sobbing, his shoulders shaking. Sam just held him there, comforting him, he could feel Sam's hands rubbing up and down his back, rubbing in between and around his wings, as if he knew where they were placed.

"We'll figure this out Dean, alright? We'll figure this out..." he heard Sam mumble as he pressed closer to his brother.


Woah, I know, two things in one day! New level achieved!

Let me know in the comments if you want another chapter, not sure if I will, but I might.

REVIEW PLEASE

-E. Winchester