Hi Sammie,

If you’re reading this, you’re back. I’m glad you’re back, and... I’m sorry.

I’ve started this so many damn times trying to find the right way to say what I need to say to you. I wish I didn’t have to, but I don’t want you to go chasing dead ends from cross road to cross road so I’m just gonna save you the trouble. You might be wondering who pulled you out of the pit. As you probably suspected, I did. I’m the reason you’re out.

After I watched you get torn apart from limb to limb as your ass got hurled into Neverland from that stupid deal, it pretty much all went to crap from then. The demon you made that deal with is long dead by the way. It gave me something to focus on for the next few months and I could never rest otherwise. Things looked up for a while after that. Well, not up but more or less back to business as usual. It was the normal level of crap... on a good day. On a bad day, well, I never heard from Cas again. I don’t even know if he’s still alive, or in heaven. I even thought the little nerd was God at some point – he isn’t – but he did pull a God-sized douche-level disappearing act. I have prayed and yelled and cursed at the bastard till I was blue in the face. Nothing; just radio silence. I even had a psychic check if he’s still alive. No luck on that either – may her soul rest in peace. Before she died, she said “Castiel is not on earth”. No shit. He’s an angel, he could be anywhere.

Now, before you go off thinking “What the hell did you do, Dean?” I want you to know that I tried to honour your wishes, Sammie, I really did. After it all went down, I did what you asked. I went looking for something resembling normalcy. I went to Lisa and Ben, and frankly, that was the worst idea in the history of terrible, shitty ideas. With all the crap looming over our heads and chasing our tails day and night, having me in their lives could never bring them anything but trouble. I should have known that. I should have known better but I was selfish; I wanted to watch Ben graduate high school and I was trying to take your advice and honour my brother’s dying wish. Go screw yourself for that by the way. I thought I was inviting monsters to Lisa and Ben by being there, but I also knew that I would protect them with my life. I should have realised I was the danger all along. After putting that woman and her kid in harms way for years – yes, I stayed with them for over 5 years – I woke up one day with the freaking mark of Cain back on my arm. How in the hell is that even possible? Your guess is as good as mine.

I tried to keep it in check for a while – the mark – as I searched for answers. For months, I did nothing but search for answers. I even called for Cas some more; I begged him, and still no answer. Screw him. And the mark, well, it got complicated. I hurt Ben, Sam. Real bad. I don’t even know how to address that, so I just won’t. Needless to say, I left. I couldn’t be selfish any longer and keep lying to myself that I can protect them when the only real monster under their beds was the one under their noses; me. And truthfully, I don’t see myself ever going back there because I don’t see Lisa, or Ben for that matter, ever forgiving me for what I did. Not that I could go back if I wanted to; it’s been so many years. I had a witch do a spell to keep them hidden from all the things that go bump in the night – and from myself – before convincing them to go off to the middle of sub-Saharan nowhere without telling me the location, which they did. Frankly, I think they were just happy to get away from me.

When I say the mark got complicated, Sam, I meant it. It feels different somehow. This thing is supercharged and angry; it’s messing with my head in ways I don’t fully understand. I thought I could keep it in check but I was wrong. Years ago, I had several months of waking up next to piles of bodies, covered in blood. I wish I could say that it still haunts me till this day, but that would be a lie; I feel nothing. I even went searching for God to get answers, but that worked as well for me as it did for Cas. I think I killed all those people, Sam, but Bobby used to say “don’t go dwelling on speculation, idgit”. I want not to dwell on what I don’t know, but it’s easier said than done. And truthfully, a part of me does know.

Speaking of Bobby, I hunted with him for a while. More than a while; almost ten years. Though, the old man had to watch his back every second, because even though he said not to be hard on myself, he knew as well as I did that I wasn’t myself. This thing on my arm made me volatile, and unpredictable. It made me do things I wouldn’t normally do. It made me a killer. Sure, with Bobby, I killed monsters and hunting kept me stable for a little while. But after Bobby died, it’s been dark as night ever since. In case you’re wondering, Bobby didn’t die on a case and I didn’t kill him either... directly. Honestly, I think the stress of having to watch me like a freaking hawk for almost a decade killed the man. Another death I’m responsible for.

I know you’re now wondering what any of this has to do with bringing you back. Well, as it turns out, I can’t die. This stupid thing on my arm has made me immortal and invulnerable like it did for Cain. So Bobby is gone, Cas is AWOL, God is a dead-end and I could never go back to Lisa and Ben who will be dead in a few decades anyway. As depressing as it is to say, I think Crowley might be my only friend now. After all, I seem to have more in common with the things we used to hunt than I do with humans anymore, and he is the only one of those things that I don’t want to murder on sight.

Crowley is great fun – great in bed too, as it turns out – but many of his exploits are dubious at best and often murderous, which gets old after a while. He jumps from meat suit to meat suit to keep things fresh, but it’s the same old “bloody bagger” underneath all of them. Though, when he pulled up Rose’s old meat suit, that was my favourite. He let me do some violent things to that bitch’s body; it was almost lethargic. He’s also a fan of high voltage electricity, which hurts like a bitch on your “parts”, but it’s manageable when it’s just us two. It gets significantly less manageable when there are other people involved. There’s only so much fun an orgy can be when it always ends with everyone else dead and charred, you know? Well, I guess you wouldn’t. Despite all those people we gave a hunter’s send off, I never really noticed just how nasty burnt flesh smells.

I probably sound different than the Dean you remember; I changed. A lot of things changed. You should see me, I even have a clean shave now. My face looks like a freaking cupid’s ass. I was letting my beard grow out while I was hunting with Bobby, but recently, I had to take it all off per Crowley’s request. He says “it itches like a bastard on my behind” in the most annoying accent you can imagine. Oh men, I can hear it already “Whoa. TMI, Dean, TMI”. Un-bunch your freshly roasted panties, Sam. I’m not saying Crowley and I are a thing. We’re just friends who want to kill each other sometimes, but a dude has needs.

Don’t go thinking I didn’t try to go on without you and Cas and Bobby but, as selfish as it sounds, I just needed my brother back. There’s only so much to do when you can do everything except all the normal things you want to do, you know? Anyway, that’s when I started looking for ways to spring you out. I found a new prophet; this hot Mexican chick. I was good though, we only hooked up after she gave me the spell to burst you out. Business before pleasure, right Sammie? Don’t worry, she’s still very much alive. You might have met her already; she’s the loud and proud atheist with hair redder than Charlie and Rowena combined and a piercing that goes right into the middle of her throat. I swear these prophets get less and less holy as time goes by. Crowley let us peak (briefly) at the demon tablet – not that he had a choice, I did threaten to feed his remains to the vultures if he didn’t so there’s that – and she found a spell that can expel anything out of hell. Anything at all, like a supernatural eject button.

As I’m sure the little snitch “Prophetess Ingrid” (a sarcastic nickname she calls herself) can’t wait to share, if she hasn’t already, the ingredients of the spell were a little pricey. No, not that kind of pricey; no one had to die for you to come back. It just required a small chunk of, well, my soul, which is where it gets dicey. I figured what’s a little soul? It’s not like I was making use of mine anyway, right? Turns out I was. After all those years, I thought I learned to live with the mark, dubious morality aside, but without my soul, the mark has taken a stronger hold on me than I could have imagined. I mean, you don’t want to see the inside of my mind right now, Sammie, it’s like something out of a freaking slasher movie. Which brings me to the reason why you are reading this letter instead of punching me in the face in person right now. 1, I’d probably kill you instantly for that and then try to bring you back again – I would like to try and avoid that – and 2, I couldn’t have you seeing me like this because honestly, I don’t think you would survive it. I don’t mean your emotions, I mean I could kill you at any moment, for any other reason.

I heard of a witch or a shaman or something like that. He or she, if they even exist, “lives in the middle of nowhere and everywhere”, according to a psychic – who really did herself no favours by giving me half-baked prophecies and incomplete information. In her next life, she’ll do well to be a little more helpful when dealing with a Winchester. This shaman is supposed to know how to recharge my soul or get rid of the mark or something. I sure as hell hope for their sake, they prove themselves more useful than that psychic. I know this must be hard for you to swallow; hearing me talk about killing people so casually. The Dean you knew would rather die than live like this, but this is why I need you, Sam. I am a monster now, and only you can remind me of who I was before all of this.

I don’t really feel too many emotions these days, but I am a little sad I can’t be there to see you freak out and lose your shit over this. After all, the whole reason I brought you back is because I missed my little brother. I didn’t mean to hurl your ass back to earth and then disappear, leaving you as alone on earth as I am. I’m well aware of what a dick move that was. I wanted to be there when you came back, but after I did the spell and used up a chunk of my soul, the likelihood of me hurting you was too great for me to risk it. In the meantime, I’m going to a place where I can’t hurt anyone else while I look for this shaman.

I can only imagine how angry you are, and disappointed. After everything we’ve been through together: stopping Armageddon on several occasions; the sacrifice you made to give me a chance to have a normal life, and this is how it ends. Guess I wasn’t worth your sacrifice after all. You should have left me dead after that plane crash, Sam. You were the one who was meant to live and have a normal life. My last familial hurrah would have been a great Christmas in Greece helping out the local hunters and watching you run like a little bitch from the water. That was good enough for me; you should have left me dead. But this is where we are now and I’m making it right, like I should have decades ago. Now, you get to live. I’m only sorry it was too many years too late. Besides, being back here, no matter how shitty it is, has to be better than being in the pit, right?

While you’re here, I need you to do 3 things for me before I can come back. Firstly, try to see if you can reach Cas. I know I was always his favourite but I haven’t exactly been on the straight and narrow lately so maybe if you called instead, the winged bastard will actually answer. Secondly, don’t come looking for me. I’m dangerous right now, Sam, and I really mean that. Lastly, if you find that shaman first, tell Crowley and Crowley will tell me. Oh, and by the way, don’t go pulling any anger management crap and try to kill Crowley. I happen to really like the face he’s currently wearing – never knew I had a thing for blonde bald chicks – and I wasn’t kidding when I said he’s my only friend.

I’m sorry, Sam. If you haven’t burned this letter by now, I’ll be back once I figure out how to keep the mark and everything that comes with it under control, or get rid of it, or at least recharge my soul. I hope that will be sometime in your current lifetime. I’ve missed you so much. I can’t wait to see you; I hope I’m actually able to.

It’s been quite an eventful night for Zoey. She had returned to her dorm from a night of dancing, partying and two huge bombshells being dropped on her dainty shoulders. On the outside, she was drenched in confusion and spilled Champagne, but underneath her Princess of Monaco worthy ball gown and fake eye lashes, she was secretly loving this; the attention of the two boys she had crushed over all semester. Aaron finally had the nerve to tell her how he feels about her and Luca, well, Luca dusted off his finest tux and rode in like a shiny knight to sweep his princess off her feet once and for all. The two lads showed up within minutes of each other; romantic gestures cocked and loaded, and made their feelings known to her. Now, it was official; it was real, and Zoey could no longer play the game of pulling two strings. She actually had to make a choice between the two boys fully aware that whomever she picked, the other would not wait around for her any longer. And wait he did not.

After Zoey wandered around her room from desk to bed to floor and back to desk, all the while twirling and twisting and chewing anxiously on her long, curly hair, she finally came to a decision. It was Aaron; it was always going to be Aaron. Luca was the mysterious, broody, cool kid; an enigma, and it was enchanting to her. But Aaron, he cared about things and he was not afraid to speak up about them. He never hid underneath invisible sunglasses and apathic, disaffected coolness. His passion oozed out of every indignant rally and heated conversation. Sure, it got a little much sometimes, but she wanted to be with the guy that made her question what she stands for and made her care about things on a deeper level. Zoey was a superficial girl. But “this is college; it’s time to grow up”, she thought and Aaron might just be who she needs to be with at this pivotal moment in her life.

Of course, Luca was disappointed. Perhaps if he had made his feelings known sooner, Zoey would be with him instead. He let out his woes unto his canvas and painted numerous odes to his object of desire. Though it was no huge loss like the death of a loved one or the end of a great romance, the salty taste of rejection followed him around for weeks. With every brush stroke, however, he could taste it a little bit less. Like many great artists, he emptied himself completely unto his art. Soon, his mind was clear of all that is Zoey Johnson. He may even have his sights on a new girl.

Skylar, Zoey’s friend, had been there for Luca as he licked his salty wounds. She felt that he was the better choice for Zoey and she made that clear to him. “I like Aaron, I do, but Zoey is an idiot if she doesn’t see how amazing you are”, she said to him in slurred words as they both gazed at his final ode to Zoey; a masterpiece of juxtaposition between the passionate brush strokes that illustrated her beautiful, bouncy hair and the soft, sweeping glides of oil that reflected light off every curve on the figure’s body. Luca took the dirty blunt sitting between his fingers to his mouth and inhaled deeply before passing it over to Skylar. “Dead ass”, he slurred back.

After weeks of pining over Zoey, Luca was finally ready to move on. The unusual friendship between he and Skylar – unusual because they seemingly had nothing in common besides Zoey – began to blossom outside the realm of their mutual friend group. They laughed at each other’s hair, despite both having long, black locs styled differently, Luca took her to his underground, cool-kid parties and they shared a similar taste in music, especially when they were high. Getting high was extremely familiar to Luca, but new to Skylar. She had recently discovered how relaxing it was to let the world melt away and her problems melt along with it. They were also both brilliant at their fields – he, a brilliant artist and she, a brilliant athlete – and neither of them had many people in their lives to whom they could vent about the expectations and weight that comes with such brilliance; not without sounding like conceited assholes.

Most of all, it was easy. Being around each other was effortless and uncomplicated. They bonded over things they now knew they had in common and laughed over the things they could only ever agree to disagree on. Luca’s extremely easy going nature, the thing that made him unfit for Zoey, was perfect for Skylar. Deep down, she was a free spirited girl, but wound tightly by the pressures of her circumstances. Being on a sports scholarship came with its own set of tribulations after all. With him, she found an escape and with her, nothing had to be performative. They could both just be themselves. Skylar never demanded he perform care and interest, for anything, in a way that suited her. She could read the subtleties of his facial expressions like a map and he could do the same with her. And when that failed, they were both mature and confrontational enough to have straight forward conversations. Neither of them had the capacity for head games and two-sided interactions.

As they relaxed into each other’s easy-going company, their bond deepened. They both started to notice things about the other they never had before. She observed that for a guy who seems so cavalier about everything, he was really hard on himself when it came to his work; an observation that blew her mind as she felt he was fantastically gifted. She also noticed his style. “You know, for a stoner dude who couldn’t care less what anyone thinks of him, he has impeccable taste”, she confessed to her sister Jazlyn. He also had started to notice her – how the sun danced and flickered around her hazelnut eyes. Their mesmerising shade of brown had even become his new favourite colour to paint with.

Jazlyn was admittedly “sceptical about Skylar’s new nth-cloud pal”, as she cheekily put it, but she quickly converted into a supporter of the pair when she began to witness her sister drift back into the relaxed essence of light she once was. There was, however, one person who could never understand or support Skylar and Luca’s new bond. Upon spotting the pair from a distance on one of their mundanely adventurous outings, Zoey hissed and sighed silently about it for hours on end, unable to make captive audiences of the people around her and voice her true feelings for fear of hurting Aaron’s.

It felt like a personal slight to her; a betrayal. Little did she know that her current feelings of betrayal were only the beginning, because despite maintaining that her relationship with Luca was strictly platonic, Skylar was starting to develop romantic feelings for the artist. Luca, on the other hand, was wise to stay away from Zoey and Skylar’s friends. Perhaps he was cautious of the way he gazed helplessly and lustfully at Skylar when she tucked her hair behind her ear being a dead giveaway to the group, and possibly to Skylar herself.

Despite Zoey’s quiet objections, Skylar and Luca continued to hang out together; acting both as fans and as escapist havens for each other. One perfectly yellow afternoon, Skylar had just finished a race and as she and her sister jogged off that burnt orange track in victory, glistening, smiling from ear to ear, their friends – Zoey, Ana, Aaron, Nomi, Vivek and Luca – received them unto the side-lines with cheers and refreshments. After the race, they all planned to get together for a movie night at Aaron’s place but Luca, who wasn’t too keen on watching Zoey and her new beau canoodling in their natural habitat, swiftly excused himself from the group meet.

Trying to be sensitive to Luca’s awkward predicament, she claimed to herself, Skylar stepped in to rescue the budding artist. “Yeah, there’s that show we wanted to see right?”, she said swiftly, inviting herself to join him and Luca was more than happy to play along. “Yeah, I’m hoping it inspires something for my class project”, he said in his usual mellow tone. Zoey glared at Luca smiling at Skylar, and as she pictured her magical night of dirty frat-house couches and pizza, she coveted Skylar because she too had experience Luca’s artsy world when his eyes were still on her.

Later on in the night, as Luca and Skylar wandered down the lit-up streets finding reasons and excuses to touch, playing “something in your hair” and “something on your jacket” games, they came to a halt in front of a door of what looked like an old tattoo parlour. “We’re here”, Luca said suspiciously. Skylar raised her eyebrows at Luca and said “where exactly are we?” with a slight excitement and hesitation in her voice. She might have trusted him, but she was still weary of dodgy-looking abandoned buildings. Luca opened the door by turning one of the fifty antique-looking knobs and handles on it and let her in to yet another underground party.

As they made their way slowly through the crowd, they started to move subconsciously to the music. From their worries and fears to pressures and the world around them, everything disappeared, time stood still and they began dancing together. Now, they had the perfect reason to touch and roll and grind all over each other. Luca’s fingertips found reasons to glide over every visible inch of Skylar’s bod, across her face and down her arms and around her waist; each stroke more electric than the last. With emotions running high and inhibitions running low, they stopped and looked at each other for a long second – it was like they had both just witnessed beauty for the first time – before Luca leaned in and kissed Skylar. The party lights sparked and shimmered like fireworks, giving the pair their fantastical moment which lasted just the perfect amount of minutes that felt like years.

After the kiss was over, they unlocked their lips and looked at each other for another long second, both trying to confirm that the magic they felt was not one-sided and imaginary. The smile that swept across both of their faces and the look of satisfaction and awe in their eyes was confirmation enough. Luca winked cheekily at Skylar to make her laugh; she rolled her eyes and burst out laughing. Time unfroze and everything around them started to move again just before they became aware of the music and proceeded back to dancing.