The Mark on Us ( A Destiel Fanfic)

Preface

Dean walked around the abandoned farm house that he had secluded himself in, making use of the tiny space. The light was now fading in the distance making it harder to distinguish the features in front of him. Not that he didn't have a light to make the darkness less demeaning, but Dean learned to welcome the dark. After all, why try to hide what's truly inside him?

"Why don't you come out angel and face me? I know you have been following me for the past few miles anyway, so why bother hiding now?"

A figure quietly emerges from the shadows appearing exhausted and void of life. His eyes didn't quite shine as bright as some would remember it and the dark circles underneath his eyes did nothing to help either. His face beheld many scratches, some deeper and uglier than others, but mainly all seeming relatively new. His trench-coat was spotted with blood, and by the looks of it, the red was fresh. He flicked his blue eyes up towards Dean and slowly made his way closer to him. Yet without missing a beat, Dean help up the First Blade and put it between them.

"Not any closer Castiel or I won't hesitate to shove this blade through you heart."

Cas shaked his head defiantly but stepped back a bit, giving them a little breath room. 

"Dean..This isn't you. None of this is you. Crowley and Rowena manipulated you into using the First Blade and they did.... something to it. Something far worse that is making you into a thing that isn't yourself. Please. Just let me help you. Let your brother help you."

He twirled the blade in his hand and laughed at the angels pleas.

"Crowley did me a favor and helped me  more than you could ever do. He made me embrace what I  am and I stopped fighting. I stopped pretending I was alright and everything seemingly fell into place. I never felt better and, for the first time, I can breathe feeling like I could die."

"Whatever Crowley did to you only made you even more dead than you already were. Don't you see that he has poisoned you? Took away whatever humanity you had left and called that life. You aren't you. Not really. I can still sense some humanity in you Dean. Despite everything that you have done. Despite everyone you have killed, there is someone you once knew, deep inside, trying to get out. To make you see the horrors you have committed."

He gripped the blade tight and brought it towards Cas with increasing force, causing him to be knocked down on his knees. A deep cut formed on his cheek, but he didn't seem to notice or care for that matter. His focus was Dean.

"You left the bunker and distanced yourself well across the other side of the United States, just to be away from us. A person with no humanity would have just killed me and your brother in cold blood. But you didn't. And here you are, in a barn,  with nobody for miles. You could have went to a city and slaughtered everyone in your path. But you didn't. There is still hope for you Dean. Let me help-"

He brings the blade and slashes it across his shoulder, causing it to bleed severely, soaking the tan trenchcoat. Cas gritted his teeth to stop from groaning in pain and continued to study Dean. His face may appear blank to the majority of the world, but Cas knew him. He knew that he was in pain, and not the type you can easily mend with a bandage. It was the type that could never heal and was washed down by the many thousand beers he engulfs each month. It should bring Castiel great despair to see Dean like this but,yet, it only gives him more hope. If he was feeling any kind of emotion then Dean was still,well, Dean.

"You think that you can fix me, " he states smiling and rolling his eyes up toward the ceiling, "I'm a problem that can never be solved because this Mark here, is the beginning of the end. I have always been a monster;  I have only begun to embrace it now. Crowley didn't do anything to me. Whatever you are seeing is 100% Dean Winchester. And I have to say, I like the change."

The Mark glowed a bright red color every time a word flew out of his mouth. Cas knew that he had to do something or he would lose him forever. And his forever was a long one.

"What you are right now is the worst side of you. It is being brought out this very second by the Mark of Cain. You need to trust me, Dean, and come back to the bunker with me. Sam and I believe we found something that could ultimately cure you of the Mark for good. You can be yourself again and end this."

"You make it seem like I want to be cured. This right here is the best I felt in years! I'm a monster Cas! A stone cold killing machine and I couldn't feel more alive."

Dean scans the wounded angel and frowns at him. A voice screamed at him from the inside saying that this was wrong. That he needs to stop and let Cas help him. A part of him wants to go with him and leave this haunted reality behind him, but another part, the one that always seems to win, whispers a defiant no; he doesn't care for the angel. In fact, he wants the angel to suffer even more. Those cuts that he yielded were just acts of mercy. He'll get what he deserves.

"You can't change who I already am. What I always was. I'm a monster. Plain and simple and none of that will change."

Cas tilts his head down towards the ground and shook his head. Blood dripped from his cheek onto the floor, making a pool  form below him.

"No. I refuse to believe it. Your name is Dean Winchester. You are a hunter that hunts with his brother, Sam Winchester. You save people because you said it's the family business," his voice was rising and cracking, his cheeks grew flushed and tears brimmed his eyes. It was a sure tale sign that his grace was dangerously low and he was, ultimately, human. "You went to Hell, Purgatory and Heaven several times and you never, ever, give up. Don't you dare give up Dean Winchester. You can bounce back. You always bounce back." He looks up at Dean, tears running down his injured face. "Please." He whispered. "For me."

Dean stares at the weeping angel, and for a moment, he felt a whole slew of emotions that bombarded him in an instant. He could feel his defenses breaking down and he felt, almost, like himself again. He could practically touch humanity again and the only thing he had to do was drop the blade. It seemed to echo in his head.

'Drop the blade Dean' 'Drop it' 'You don't need it' 'Just Drop it'

But he couldn't. And all was lost

He smirked and gripped the blade tighter. With the mark glowing the brightest he had ever seen, he plunged the blade into the angels chest.