Chapter 1: Black

It was the dead of night when there was the sound of soft whimpering sounding off in the trees at an overpass. A demon was pound in special mystic handcuffs as she was lightly glaring at her captor.

"I heard the rumors. I said, No that can't be. A Winchester? One of us? But it's true, isn't it? Whatever soul you had. Whatever Boy Scout code you cuddled up to at night. It's all gone. Leaving what? Look at you," she spat at Sam.

He glared hard at the demon before he held up the knife he had used to cut into her before. "Where is Crowley?" he asked again.

"Eat me," the demon said.

Sam nodded before he went and jammed the knife in her torso, enough to hurt her but not kill her. Sam's arm may be in a sling but that wasn't deterring him in the slightest. "One more time, where is Crowley?" She refused to answer so he twisted it firmly. "Where's my brother?" he spat.

"I don't know," she cried out.

He then pulled the knife out. "Then you're going to call someone who does," he said as he went and cut across her neck. He then went for a container to gather some of the blood.

"No one knows," she tried to explain. "We won't answer."

"Make the call," Sam demanded.

"We're under orders," she cried.

"Make the call!" he repeated louder.

She shook her head and begged, "Please."

But Sam didn't care. He just grabbed at her jaw. "Where's my brother!"

Supernatural

For weeks, Sam had been looking into any possible sign of demonic activity he could find. Every last aspect and detail about demons was being reviewed. He was calling in favors from anyone he could think of to help him find any clue that could lead him to his brother or to Crowley. But so far, nothing.

It had been quiet. Too quiet. He had learned there was heavy activity over near Lawrence, Kansas immediately after his brother disappeared and was shocked to see that the center of it was in Stull Cemetery. He went over to see it himself and saw that place where he had fallen into the Cage with Lucifer and Michael had recently been tampered with. He checked the cemetery's logs and saw that a private service had been scheduled the day of the Feast of Saint Michael and the whole cemetery had been locked down. Looking back, Sam couldn't believe that they couldn't see why it would be there. It seemed Daniel Leonard had succeeded and freed Michael.

He thought that might be a good reason why it was suddenly so hard to find Crowley and Dean right now. With the most powerful angel topside again they had most likely gone to ground to hide. All demons would be trying to lay low and stay out of sight now. This only frustrated Sam more. Day after day, he was flipping through book after book that the bunker had relating to demons as he listened to police scanners for anything. He kept finding nothing or things that were negligible at best. Every night before he went to sleep he took a trip to Dean's room and reread the letter left on the pillow. He didn't want to believe that it was really Dean who left it for him. It just couldn't really be his brother.

Sam was just going through some more news sites when an article of a murdered man came up. He stiffened as he read the article and then reached for his phone and dialed Castiel. Castiel was at that moment resting in some seedy motel room bed when his phone went off.

He picked it up and drearily asked, "Sam? Hello."

"I think I may have found something," Sam said instantly.

"Oh, oh good," Castiel said before he started to cough.

"Cas? You there?" Sam asked.

"It's okay. I'm okay. Go on," he said before letting out another cough.

"Well get this, a John Doe that was murdered in Wisconsin a week ago turns out to be this guy, Drew Neely, who went missing from some religious order in Ohio. Okay?"

"Yeah," Castiel said straightening himself but still lightly coughing.

"Alright, Drew Neely has been missing for three years. Killed his wife, his kids, and then just disappeared. I know he's dead but if this guy was possessed-"

Castiel followed. "Then that would make him the first-" But he couldn't finish. He started coughing again.

"The first lead," Sam continued for him. "The first anything that we've seen in-" Sam stopped as Castiel's coughing echoed off into his ear through the phone.

"Sorry," he apologized.

Castiel had not been doing so well these past few weeks. After the Pavilion he seemed to have gotten better by being on such holy grounds but the effect had worn off quickly and his strength was declining again. It was now worse than before to the point where he seemed to be constantly ill.

Sam couldn't bring him in on this. The angel had enough to deal with already. "Actually, you know what, now that I'm looking at this more I think I jumped the gun here buddy."

"No," Castiel interjected. "Sam, you said it was something."

"Yeah, it's…it's not. I was wrong. Sorry."

"I can help," argued Castiel.

"Cas," Sam cut in. "We tried that."

"Sam, you can not blame what that demon did to your shoulder on me. I'm not-"

"I know. I'm not blaming anything on you," he tried to say. "It just happened. And…you have to be worrying about yourself. I really shouldn't have bothered you."

Castiel just stared off blankly, not really looking at anything. Then he asked, "How are you Sam?"

"I'm good," he answered. "I'm alright. I'm just, tired, you know. I'll be better when we get him back. After I kick his butt," he added.

Castiel let a smile loose from that one. But it quickly faded. "I miss him."

"Yeah." Sam did too, a lot.

"Why would he just disappear?" Castiel just had to ask out loud.

"Says he had no choice."

"Then who wrote the note," Castiel pointed out. "Do you think there is any chance that Dean's still-?"

"Still even remotely Dean?" Sam asked back. Part of him wanted to find out while the other didn't. Because if his brother wasn't his brother anymore, he…he didn't want to think about what that could mean.

He then hung up the phone.

Over at some bar, Dean was up on the stage, singing some karaoke. Badly. The patrons kept shouting and complaining for him to shut up and get off the stage. Dean just ignored them and kept on singing like he was the only one in the room. Crowley was off side, drinking and talking with some of the patrons, as he pointed off at him. He seemed to be enjoying the show.

To the side was Zepar, looking from the badly singing ex-human and the King of Hell. His eyes were narrowed in a scolding glare. He then turned around and soon enough was gone with a soft flapping of wings.

Samael was in a cozy lounge in a large luxury cabin, the massive fireplace to the side was blazing. Behind him were great big windows but the dark, night sky had no light coming in making the room glow ominously from the fire's light. Samael was surrounded by nearly a dozen angels including Barbatos and Marilyn as they sat in chairs and couches surrounding a rather large table in the center. One of them handed Samael a paper and he looked it over.

"Is this accurate?" he asked.

"I believe it is sir," the angel nodded.

Samael let an audible huff out as he shook his head. "You got to hand it to my big bro. Takes a leave of absence but as soon as he gets back on the horse he makes some serious trails."

"Will we have to step in?" Barbatos asked.

Samael smiled at him slightly. "Don't worry Barb. Michael may be back in the saddle but his lines are spreading kind of thin. There's still too much at the moment for him to do to start to move in on us. Besides, I already have things ready to 'step in' first before us."

"Mind telling us what that is?" he asked.

"Yes, actually I do. Don't want to spoil the surprise," Samael said before reaching out for his glass of bourbon.

"There's something else," said Tyrus. "We think we may have finally tracked him down."

Samael straightened his back up. "You have? Good."

"Want us to take him out," Tyrus offered.

"No," Samael said narrowing his eyes. "He could still prove useful."

"But he won't agree to work with us. Especially you," another of the angels said.

"Not in the past. But, circumstances change. He is running out of time and places to turn. He can't go home. Michael would instantly burn him to a cinder, if he's feeling generous. With everything going on, he might sing a different tune." Samael then looked over on ahead. "Anita?"

"Yes sir," the angel asked as she straightened up.

"I'd like you to go and pay him a little…visit. Make him a proposal. I'm sure he'll say yes eventually."

"And if he just keeps saying no?"

"You're a smart one. I'm sure you can think of something," he added flirting. There was then a knock on the door. "Come in."

The door opened and every turned to see it was Zepar. "Sir," he said coming in and shutting the door behind him.

"Ah, Zepar. So, how goes my little side project?"

"About that," Zepar said with a hard look on his face. "I think there might be a…situation."

Samael actually lost his laid back posture as his own face hardened.

Dean had managed to score a night with the beautiful blonde bartender after his 'performance' last night. Dean slammed down onto his back after their latest round under the sheets.

"Okay, wow," she breathed. "Wait, what time is it? Darrell is going to kill me if I'm late from my break again."

Dean checked the time in the clock at the bedside table. "Oops," he slurred out.

"Damn," the girl said as she started to get out of bed. "I told you to hurry it up and then you had to go and do that thing with the thing," she teased.

"Wait," he said. "You mean that thing that you were begging me for?"

"Begging for you to hurry it up maybe," she said back with a smile.

Dean shrugged. "Well, let's not argue about good sex."

"It was good wasn't it?"

Dean mumbled his agreement. "Just, uh, don't get too excited ya know. Or too attached. Cause I'm just rolling through."

The girl just looked at him stiffly for a bit before moving to fix her hair. "You know, there's about a million other ways you could've said that."

Dean just shrugged. But then the door opened and Dean held his hand out. "Okay, whoa," he spat out.

Crowley just kept walking in. "Woah? What's going on here?"

"What's it look like?" Dean asked smugly.

"In my bed?" Crowley said pointing it out clearly annoyed.

"What?" Dean said before taking a look around. "Oh, yeah," he said smiling. The girl was amused too.

"Jerk," Crowley muttered out.

"Bitch," Dean said.

"Get a room you two," the girl jested.

"Had a room, before you two soiled it."

"Love you Crowley," she said.

"Love you too…sweetheart," he said unable to recall her name.

"Ann Marie, jack ass." Then she left.

Dean was amused as he had gotten dressed. Or at least the top half of him.

"Pants," Crowley pointed out.

Dean and Crowley were then staring down two men.

"Best 2 out of 3. Losers buy the beer," he said before they all looked down and began their game of pair foosball.

"Lots of beer," Dean added.

The two began to talk as they played.

"The girl seemed nice. Slightly damaged," Crowley put in. "Don't see the old you falling for that."

"Yeah well, not to worry. She means nothing," Dean said not skipping a beat.

"Good, good," Crowley said as he pushed on his bar. "Because you and I, we're Rolling Stones. No distractions." The ball was heading for their goal. "Down. Bring it down!"

"Stop talking!" Dean said trying to intercept it. But then it went in costing them the point. "Would you shut up?" Dean said to him. "If you keep talking then I can't play the game."

But then they looked off and Dean spotted Ann Marie getting into a tense spat across the bar. The guy then grabbed her and started to take her outside.

"Hang on," Dean said moving for them.

Crowley stood there as he saw Dean follow out after them. Dean went out of the bar to see them both off at the side. They were still arguing and he still had her in his grip.

"Get off of me," she demanded.

But he still had his hold on her. "Why are you doing this?"

"Calm down," she asked.

"Where were you?" he asked back at her.

Dean then started for them. "Hey, is this him?"

"You have a problem?" he asked Dean finally letting her go.

"Yeah, you Matt?" he asked before he went and punched him across the face.

"Dean," she said in surprise.

Dean just took him and slammed him to the car and kept punching his face. He just landed one blow after another. Crowley stepped outside and calmly watched the display. Finally Dean stopped.

"You need to get away from here," he said as he grabbed him by the jaw. "Don't try and contact her. In fact, don't even think about her. You understand me?!"

The guy nodded through his bloodied nose and face and then Dean threw him back. He looked back at Ann Marie to see that she was looking at him not in the least bit grateful. Crowley cleared his throat at him. Dean just went off back into the bar, as a dark clothed figured watched him.

There was an old jawbone, one caked with blood as it was pulled out of a man. Dean Winchester stared back at the fresh corpse with his eyes a dark and deep black. Then there was Sam Winchester, tied in a chair, being beaten by a man. After that was then a young boy covered in blood walking down the side of a road. Samael sitting down, laughing in pleasure. The sign of the Mark of Cain then burning bright red.

Daniel gasped as he lifted his head off the pillow it was lying as he tried to settle his heart down. His breathing was quick but he immediately got it to settle as he let his eyes glimpse his surroundings. He was back in his room. There was a bit of light from the window shining into the room showing that it was still light out.

"What?" he said lightly as he slowly brought himself to sit up in the bed.

His last memory was of him completing the ritual and looking at Michael as he emerged free from the Cage. Then he remembered everything fading out around him. Was he dead? Was he in his personal heaven?

"Hello!" he called out. "Is anyone there?"

The door quickly opened a moment later and in walked Gadreel. "You're awake," he said with a calming smile.

"Gadreel. Wait, is that really you or are you my memory of you?"

Gadreel let a chuckle loose. "It's okay Daniel. You aren't dead."

"I'm not?" Daniel paused for a moment before he went and took his fist and slammed it into his torso. "Ow, yep, I'm not dead."

Gadreel narrowed his eyes in wonder. "Why do you humans always seem to account pain with life all the time?"

"Sorry but I just want to be sure. I'm really not dead then?"

"No. You've just been out for a while."

Daniel moved so that he was sitting up in his bed. "What? How long a while exactly because I'm having a Ripley moment here."

Gadreel squinted his eyes as he shook away his loss of the reference. "You've been out for three weeks."

"Three weeks?"

"It seems the ritual took quite a toll on you. Everyone thought you were dead at first until we found you still had a pulse. Michael immediately brought us back to the Manor from the cemetery and we placed you in your room."

"Michael? Wait, where is he? And Joseph? What's been going on?"

Daniel started to begin to try and get out of bed but Gadreel came over and made him settle back in.

"I'm sorry Daniel but you're still weak." He kept his hand down on him firmly until Daniel was flat against the bed again. "You should focus your energy on getting better."

Daniel nodded his head as he started to truly take in the fact that he wasn't dead like he thought he would be. His eyes went to a new table set up by his bed where there were an assortment of things laid out there. "What's all that?"

"Tokens from your friends and admirers," he said moving over to them. "You had a lot of people worried about you. Kevin especially didn't want to leave until you woke up but we convinced him that you wouldn't want him to be deterred on his account."

"What? What happened to him?"

"Well, shortly after Michael was freed and he brought us back here he wasted no time getting to work. He went to Heaven and undid Metatron's spell and reopened its gates to angels and the reapers again. Souls are being ferried back with fierce precision."

"Oh, that's good to hear," he gasped out.

"Then, when that was done. Michael immediately set about to begin undoing the spell's effect on us."

Daniel's eyes lit up. "That's great," he said before his eyes narrowed. "But, I don't see your wings."

"Not all of us," Gadreel explained. "He started with the Powers first and returned their wings to them. As for everyone else, it will be a gradual process. As powerful as Michael is, he still feeling weak from his long banishment to the Cage."

"Oh, I see." Daniel guessed it all made sense. If he had been trapped for years in a fiery box in the deepest part of Hell, he wouldn't be 100% either.

"Well, when Camael had her wings restored she was ready to take Kevin and the Angel Tablet with her to Rome as agreed. Kevin was hoping that he would have the chance to say goodbye but it wasn't to be. But," he said reaching for an item on the table. "He did have this made for you."

Daniel saw that it was a well varnished picture frame that had the photo that Kevin had taken of him and Joseph before they had left for Kansas. He let a laugh loose when he saw that Kevin had gone and photo shopped a golden halo above Joseph's head. He then found his eyes starting to droop.

"Just let em…know…that I'm," Daniel slurred out before he let himself succumb to his need to get more sleep. But, unlike the last three weeks, he slept with a smile on his face.

Gadreel nodded. "Of course," he said letting a small smile loose.

Castiel was yacking in the bathroom sink as he tried to clean himself off. He couldn't just lay there and have himself just waste away to nothing. He knew that Sam would follow up on his lead and if it did happen to lead to Dean then Sam would need help. Dean wasn't Dean anymore. He knew it. He could feel it. But he knew that Sam was putting his efforts not to and that could only bring trouble.

As Castiel put his shirt on there was a knock on the door. He opened it a bit to see a woman standing at the other end. Not just a woman though, Castiel could see that she was an angel. "Yes, who are you?"

"Castiel? I'm Hannah."

"Hannah? Why are you here? What do you want with me?"

"Well, I was hoping we could talk. Heaven needs you. We need you."

Castiel just deflated at that.

Sam made it to Wisconsin and went into the precinct. The sheriff took him into his office.

"You came investigating Drew Neely's murder, right?"

"Right," Sam said.

"Problem is we're not certain it was a murder at all." He then sat down at his desk and brought up the feed from the convenient store the night Neely was killed.

"Okay," Sam said as he stood next to him. "What are we dealing with here? Suicide."

"Self-defense, more likely," the sheriff said as the footage began to roll. "The footage was corrupted by our techies managed to clean it up."

As it rolled Sam looked to see that, standing there with a magazine, was Dean. He looked fine. "Son of a bitch," he muttered.

"Watch," the sheriff said as Neely came into view. "This guy's there, minding his own business. And then there's Neely. See the knife?" he asked as Neely pulled an angel blade as soon as he looked at Dean.

"Yeah."

"That's intent right there. Now watch this."

Neely then ran to stab at Dean but he held him off and then started to beat at Neely. He threw him down and Dean then pulled out something from his back and started to jam it into Neely multiple times.

"Looks like a cutless, or something," the sheriff said as it played. "I don't know what the hell this is."

But Sam knew what it was. The First Blade.

The sheriff continued. "Problem is we don't know if this guy is a hero or a…psychopath." They watch as Dean just goes and takes the magazine that he dropped and started to walk out like nothing happened. He then walks up and looks at the camera, face in full view. The sheriff freezes the video there. "That's the image that's getting uploaded to the wires."

"Do you mind if I take a look at this?" he asked the sheriff.

"Knock yourself out. I'll be back in a bit," he said taking off.

Sam then went and rewound the footage. When Dean's face came into view after attacking Neely, he then played the video frame by frame. He then stopped it when Dean's eyes went demonic black. Sam gasped in shock.

As Sam was left to do all that as the sheriff went off to a quiet corner and pulled out his cell. He scrolled down his list of contacts and then called the one named Morales with a cross next to his name.

"Agent Morales speaking," said the man on the other line.

"Yes, this is Sheriff Douglas Trent from Michigan. I need to make a report." He then rolled his right shirt sleeve to rub at the leather cuff hidden underneath.

Dean was walking off from the bar that night, down an alley when he just suddenly stopped in his tracks.

"We could do this however you want. Don't pretend that I didn't see you this afternoon. Checking out my moves. You get a good look?" he asked in amusement. "I hope so because I could sure use some competition right now."

"Oh, I'll be more than competition," the demon said as he pulled out an angel blade.

Dean just smirked at him, not afraid at all. "You Abaddon groupies are all the same, you know that? You, the douche who jumped at the gas station. You just can't accept that the Queen is dead." He then reached behind him and pulled out the First Blade.

The demon reacted by pulling out his black eyes before moving in for the attack. Dean quickly disarmed him and then stuck the First Blade right into him.

Over in a suburban home, a man named Cole Trenton was doing an intense morning workout as his wife and son were in the kitchen preparing breakfast. As his son was digging into his cereal, he heard a beep and saw a paper coming in from the fax. He then took it and went to bring it to his dad who was lifting weights.

"Fax dad."

Cole put them on the rest before he went for it. "Who's it from buddy?"

"Doesn't say. There's a picture," he pointed out.

Cole looked at it for a moment before he smiled. "Thanks a lot bud," he said ruffling his son's hair a bit.

Their son went back to the kitchen but his wife stayed and had a grim look on her face. "Is it him?" she asked.

He didn't answer. He didn't need to. She just left the room, with a slightly horrified look on her face. Cole just glared at the picture in front of him. He then went off to gather his weapons. He put all the guns he thought he would need before he looked back at the picture. A surveillance still of Dean Winchester at the convenience store on police file.

End of Chapter 1

A/N: I'm hope I'm off to a good start. I had a good holiday and I hope that all of you did too. My pages on the Supernatural Fanon had been updated to include some new characters that will premiere in future chapters.