All in the name of Love (Supernatural x Reader x Avengers)

Chapter 11

Dean had been shifted to an infirmary bed. Stark white walls characterized the room. Next to his unconscious form was a chart of his vitals which Bruce had been regularly maintaining. He had been in this state for five hours. Incidentally, a lot had happened in that time.

"What do you mean you are not coming?" Sam did not raise his voice. He did not want to disturb his brother by waking him up untimely. Little did he know Dean was already up, he had only kept his eyes closed because the bright lighting pinched. Your nostrils flared slightly. "It means I am not coming! Cas and Gadreel are already en route to Heaven. They will destroy the angel tablet. Metatron will be weaker then."

"You want Dean to kill him." Sam came to a startling realization. "You're joking, right? An hour ago, we were ready to throw him in a padded cell because he tried to kill you and everybody else and now you think he's our best chance?"

You stole a glance at Dean. He looked so peaceful and yet to you, it was terrifying. "What else have we been saving wretched mark for!?" Sam wrung his hands together. "Oh right, excuse me, sorry. I'm a little less than eager to hear our best chance is...is aiming the warhead and hoping it hits the mark. This is not a bomb we're talking about. This is my brother."

"I know, Sam and I understand." You held his hands to stop them from fidgeting. "But I can't join you on this one and even if I did, what use would I be? Dean...he...I... Sam, I might give this all up. My body doesn't seem to function right around-"

"The hell if you think I'm riding the pine on this one guys!" Dean was fully up now. He struggled against the handcuffs which were connected to the bed for his own safety and that of others. Sam noticed your grip on his hands had tightened, almost to a point where it was hurtful. "Something is wrong with you, Dean, and until we figure out what, this is where you have to stay."

Dean stopped for a moment, mostly in amusement. "And you two are gonna do what? Take on Metatron yourselves? That's smart. Oh no, wait. No, you," He motioned towards you, "you have been permanently scarred by me and you," He gestured in Sam's general direction, "now you're trying to lock up the one guy who has a shot at killing that son of a bitch! Hell of a plan, fellas!"

Your breaths were getting ragged and uneven. Sam placed a hand on your back and led you out of the room without so much as saying a word to his brother. "Look, hey! Guys! Sam! (Y/N)!" Dean called out in vain.

"You get anything of what's going on here?" Steve asked, perplexed. "Nothing." Natasha replied with a straight face as she left on your tail.

Bruce shrugged and sat back down, engrossed in his medical journal. An hour passed before he felt his stomach rumble. "I'm gonna go get something to eat. You can get a bite too if you be a good boy. Don't make me turn green now." He left with a smile and a warning.

Once the room was empty, Dean got out of bed and discarded the handcuffs on the floor. 'As if those would hold me back.' He quickly arranged all the ingredients required for the spell he was going to cast and began his work.

"What's that smell?" Crowley asked as he appeared in the centre of the room, inside the devil's trap Dean had just painted. The elder Winchester's mask had fallen off. He was scared. "What the hell's happening to me you son of a bitch!?"

"Liquor before beer? Bad taco? Lover's spat with (Y/N)? How should I know?" Crowley shrugged. Dean held back his tears. "I can't turn it off! Ever since I killed Abbadon, it's like this whole other thing. I get this high and I-I-I need to kill. I almost killed Cas and (Y/N), twice! I really, really need to kill. And if I don't-"

"You yak your guts out. It's the Mark." Crowley finished Dean's sentence for him. Even though he did not fully understand, Dean collapsed on the inside. "Meaning?"

Crowley mused at the situation. It was probably the first time he had seen a Winchester so weak. "It wants you to kill. The more you kill, the better you feel. The less you kill, the less better you feel." He explained. "How much less better?" Dean's voice was raw.

"One would imagine the least best better." Crowley simplified the situation by calling a spade a spade. "So, dead?" A thought occurred to Dean, "Well, Cain had the Mark. He didn't die."

"Cain was a demon. Your body is not strong enough to contain the blade's power." Crowley's patience was being ripped apart. If the man in front of him was not a Winchester, he would most likely be dead. Dean had one last question. "What if I got rid of it?"

"You want to get rid of it?" Crowley smiled knowingly. Dean grit his teeth, now more in control of himself. The mask was back on. "What I want is Metatron."

"Go on." The King of Hell was interested. Dean eyed the table outside the glass doors, the First Blade neatly rested on it. Bruce would be back any moment. "But I have to get through that door. I have to get the blade. And you're gonna help me.

-

"I got a chai latte. I didn't know how you took your coffee so I got you a plain black one and...what is that smell?" Bruce's strut broke only when his senses detected the odd smell. Dean was no longer in the room, the handcuffs lay discarded on the floor.

Sam was holding the empty box which, Bruce was certain, formerly contained the blade they had taken away from Dean. There was a pause before you answered his question in a foreboding voice, "Sulphur."