So, You're a Fucking Virgin

Epilogue

For What It's Worth...

Dean scratched idly at his right forearm, his shirtsleeve covering The Mark of Cain. If a medical professional were to examine it, they might think it was some new form of ringworm or a really bad burn, festering from neglect. But it was neither. It was a curse he had taken on himself in a misguided fit of self loathing and hero complex. The Mark itched and tingled. Calling to him. Setting him on edge.

It had been one year since Gadreel had smote you using Sam's body under Metatron's orders.

Nowhere. You were nowhere. It didn't make any sense. With what they know? Everyone was always somewhere. Heaven. Hell. Purgatory. The Veil. They just had to look hard enough. Dean just had to look hard enough. Matter can neither be created, nor destroyed. It just transforms. You'd taught him that. Things don't get destroyed. They just change. But you. You were nowhere.

That first morning.

"Fraggle Rock?" Dean asked.

"Yeah Fraggle Rock, you know? Kids show from the 90s. Jim Henson puppets, but with a message. 'Dance your cares away worries for another day. let the music play down in Fraggle Rock." you half sang, clapping at the appropriate places.

"Could you sing that again?"

"Shut up. Anyways, there was this one episode I remember, where like the dog's bowl gets taken by a fraggle (fraggles are like little wall monsters, but like cute) and he thinks it's lost, but later it's returned to him but now it's like this weird crazy invention or something? I don't really remember."

"You are a fantastic storyteller." Dean mocked.

"Shut up-I'm amazing. The point is, Doc, that's the dog's owner. He's like the only human on the show. He says to Sprocket, that's the dog, I just remembered, he says 'things don't disappear. they just change and change.' or something. Everything's always somewhere. You just have to look hard enough."

He'd been through every bit of lore over three times. He'd tried every locator spell. He'd even gone to a hoodoo priestess.  And all that came from that were some wicked flashbacks to watching the "Coven" season of "AHS".  But still - Nothing. And to make things worse, now he even had the damn Mark of Cain trying to turn him dark once more.

"Dean, you have to take care of yourself. You have to fight this" Sam begged him "you can't spend all day obsessing about ______. I miss her too. And you know that I, more than anyone else, have to carry her death with me. Every time I close my eyes, I see her burned out in front of me, by my hands. But you can't keep doing this to yourself, Dean. It's not helping you fight this, it's just driving you further down the rabbit hole. "

"Her death was my fault."

"No, it wasn't. She's dead because of Metatron."

"If I had just been honest with her the whole time."

"Then he would've found another way to kill her anyways, Dean." Sam argued trying to console him. They'd had some version of this same argument at least 15 times in the past year. It always seemed difficult for things between Sam and Dean to stay buried. "Dean you know what the Mark did to you before." Sam continued "Can do to you now. If you keep letting your grief over ______ consume you...I swear to god, it's almost like you want to be a demon again."

"Shut your face."

"Dean she's gone."

Dean burst up from his chair in a rage, pinning Sam to the wall in one fluid motion. "She's not gone. We're just not looking hard enough!"