Damned Soul

All Of The Impure Blood

-Alternate Mid-Season Finale-

The damned soul sat on his knees in the middle of the room, his bruised face in his hands. The walls stained wine, the color of blood. A faint stench of sweat and fear linger through the air, unnoticeably the lights flicker on and off in a slow repetition. A large fan in the ceiling slowly spins creating a creaking noise as the metal hits the air.
Castiel walks into the bloodbath, nothing is untouched by the blood including the man, the man that was made to be pure.

His clothes stained and torn, his hand bloody, and his face is cut, drained of it's natural color, and instead the color of guilt. The Mark of Cain glows the same color as the room, bright and demanding.

Castiel takes one step at a time, in rhythm of the fan creaks, he stands in front of the bloody heap. Dean looks up at him, his green eyes are dull, almost dead, speck of gold catch the light, the only life in him.

He reaches up for Castiel, his bloodied fist searching for a clean hand, something to purify his damned soul.

Dean catches Cas's hand and the feeling of hatred and guilt doesn't drain his face, his mind, or his hands.

The hands he used kill innocent people, the face that smiled as he took his blade and sliced, the mind that said it was beautiful. He wants to cry, to sob, he would've loved to feel something but he couldn't, the only thing he felt was guilt, hate, and death.
His eye looked for the blue ones and easily found the Heavenly creature. "Kill me," the monster spoke, only this monster is man. Dean Winchester, the beautiful savior, valiant soldier, and now crucified killer. The blue eyes stared back, if his eyes could tell a story, the world would be his novel.
Shades of navy blanketed his stare, sadness reaped his irises, and his eyes still shined. Even through his own angelic damnation he remained pure. "No," his eyes squeezed shut, "I can't."

Castiel, the angel of The Lord, saved Dean Winchester, he saved him from perdition, and he is going to save him again. Even if it mean putting him back together, piece by piece, sweat and tears.

Dean Winchester has to be saved, Dean Winchester needs to be saved, Dean Winchester will be saved. The evil will be ripped from him by the pure white light of his angel.

"Why?" he rasped, blood drying to his lips and eyelashes, his vision blurring from the sweat, the fear, the red. "I'm a monster, damn it, Cas! I destroyed everyone and I'll destroy you too." Deans green eyes became smaller and his lips shook.

The angel with the blue eyes and trench coat, turns his head away, but grabs the bloody cheek of the Damned. His eyes avert to the vision, the words, 'Dean Winchester is saved!'

His Dean Winchester, he is his savior, the brave little soldier's guardian angel. The blue eyes turn back to the green, but suddenly his eyes now cascade every color of blue, ones of happiness, sadness, fear, kindness and tears.

His wet eyelashes bat and the other mans tilts his head ever so slightly, ironically giving him a look of innocence and curiosity. " I can't," his large voice boomed from his small body, "because I love you." The eyes of beautiful glass release a single tear of human emotion, it ran down his face in a salty streak landing on the bloodied floor.
A spot on the floor is purified. The human grabs the angel's face and pulls him to eye level, his green eyes begin to drip, in a way that is beautiful and loving but not a lonely sobbing.

The green eyed monster grabs the blue eyed angel and held him close. Their bodies pressed together and hearts were one. The bloody man wasn't clean but holding this beautiful purity was cleansing enough.