89. About a Boy

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In the bunker, Dean was researching how to remove the Mark of Cain from his arm.

He remembered the words and warnings he'd received.

Crowley telling him, "After Cain killed Abel, he became a demon."

Cain's words. "I felt connected to you right from the beginning. You and I are very much alike. I can give you the Mark, Dean, if it's what you truly want."

He heard himself. "But when I kill, I kill for a reason. I'm nothing like Cain."

Crowley again. "Why are you fighting what you really are?"

In the library, he pulled up a website titled 'Scar removal'.

Dean made his way to his room and sat on the floor as he read a large book with ancient inscriptions written on it. Saoirse sat next to him and took his upper arm, resting her chin on his shoulder.

There was a knock on the door and Sam entered and said, "Hey."

"Hey," Dean replied.

"Caught a case," Sam informed, handing over a tablet. "Apparently, something is taking people." Dean took the tablet, seeing a news site with the title, 'Mysterious Disappearances Baffle Police'. "And leaving their clothes."

Dean enlarged the picture of J.P. on the tablet. "Hmm. About time this gig got an "R" rating." Sam scoffed. "All right. Why don't you two check it out. I'll hold down the fort."

Sam frowned. "Dean, you haven't left the bunker in a week. You can't just live the rest of your life locked up in your room."

"I don't know. I got three hots, my wife, our son, and a cot. Could be worse."

"Look, I know you're worried about the Mark."

"Yes, Sam. I am. Between what I did to Charlie-"

"Charlie forgave you. How about you forgive yourself?"

"Because I'm not exactly batting 1,000 here, you know?"

"Yeah, I do know that, but staying locked up in here, sitting on the ground reading the same lore books over and over and over again, it's not helping you. You need to get back in the game for your own good. You can beat this, Dean."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Yeah, you're damn right I believe that."

"You know, you also believed in the Easter Bunny till you were 12."

"No I didn't." He paused. "Look, I was 11."

"And a half. Right."

Sam sighed. "So?"

Dean closed the book. "Okay."

Saoirse said, "I'll stay here with James. Keep safe, boys."

Dean kissed her and smiled.

BAR

The brothers stood outside a bar in their Fed suits as they talked to the homeless man.

"And then -- then -- then there was this bright light, and -- bam -- the dude's just gone. Nothing left but, uh..."

"Cheap suit and a pair of florsheims?" Dean finished.

"Pretty much," the homeless man confirmed.

Dean nodded and Sam asked, "You see anyone else?"

"No, sir, officer."

"And what about, um, a chill?" Dean questioned. "Or did you smell any rotten eggs?"

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