The Mark on Us ( A Destiel Fanfic)

Gone

Dean was unable to get back to sleep once he returned to his room. Partly because he couldn't bare another night of endless nightmares but mostly because he was busy packing. Throwing stacks of bundled clothing( the small amount he had) into a worn duffel bag. Then grabbing a pistol and a demon blade. He wasn't going to waste his time trying to find the First Blade; and besides, he didn't want to fuel his obsession any further than it already gone. He was bettering himself and wasn't going to fall any deeper. At least he can hope he wasn't deep enough as it is.

Before he left the room, his eyes caught a glint of paper that glitters in front of the dim light he had on. Dean takes a few steps back to realize what it was and couldn't help but put a huge grin on his face. How could he have forgotten?

There on the desk he never seems to use, lay the photos of his brother and him before all this madness took place. When things were simpler and Bobby always butted his way into their problems. He had all the answers and Dean wonders furiously if he would have fixed this mess already. He rubbed the Mark as it began to burn almost seeming like it's saying of course he would have. He's Bobby Singer.

He riffled through all of them, deciding to just neatly tuck them away into his duffel pocket when one drifts to the floor. He reaches down and retrieves the picture, tilting his head in surprise. Dean couldn't recall ever taking this picture but here he is. Castiel with his blue eyes sparkling like they always seem to do, throwing his head back and smiling. It looked like it was taken a few year back before the whole Leviathan propaganda. He appeared actually, happy. He tucked it in with the rest of the photos and made his way towards the door.

        He went over this certain scenario practically 1000 times. Sammy, being a heavy sleeper, wouldn't be his main worry. It would be Castiel. Since he doesn't sleep, he usually either wanders throughout the house or near the bunker. Sometimes he has his angel duties but with his situation with the Mark of Cain, he felt it was his duty to watch over him. Yet, to his luck, Cas was curled up on the couch, snoring away, his features soft and hazy. He appeared like he did in the photograph:happy and blissful. He smiled a bit and made his way to the bunker door.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

        Cas tried everything in his power to stay awake and watch for Dean. Just to make sure everything was alright, especially after what had happened only moments before. He wondered what exactly had took place and why Castiel wanted more than anything to lean forward and kiss his lips. Such a feeling hadn't crossed his mind since the last time he was human. That should have been the first sign that something was off about him. Slowly, but surely, the grace inside him was burning out and, soon enough, he would be human again, which is something that he could not afford at the time being. Dean needed him now more than ever and he couldn't just sit on the sidelines watching him get worse and worse. But Cas couldn't bring himself to slaughter another angel just for the sake of saving his own behind that didn't even deserved to be saved in the first place. He put blind faith in the wrong person, again, and he had every right to suffer.

        After briefly talking to Sam about the most ordinary things, he ended up heading back to bed also. Cas sat down in his usual spot, his eyes getting heavy with fatigue and sooner than later, he ended up falling asleep. He knew that it was the wrong thing to do, this being another huge warning sign signaling that he was losing his grace faster and faster. Yet, at that moment, his humanity took over and he drifted into a blissful sleep. 

        He dreamed of Dean. Of happier and simpler times when it wasn't such an impossible thing to see a smile on the Winchesters faces. He remembered his green eyes. The color of freshly shaven grass. The color of life; leaves flowing in the summer wind; apples freshly picked from a tree. Cas took in deep breaths of the atmosphere, smelling Dean whenever he inhaled. He smelled like motor oil, worn leather, the breeze when it floats through the forest on a cool spring afternoon. But better than anything else in the world, he smelled like home. He dreamed of hugging him and never letting him go. Constantly telling him that he would be okay and everything would be fine. He wouldn't let anything happen to him. Kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his hands, his nose, even going to great lengths to try to kiss every freckle on his spotted face, before getting to work on his plump lips. He was so caught up in the moment of his dream that he never realized that the once pleasing atmosphere turned dark. The grass that once looked so inviting, lush and green was burned to a crisp, some even on sparked with fire. Cas was almost afraid to acknowledge Dean but his curiosity got the best of him and he took a peek. To his horror, Dean was covered in blood, the Mark of Cain glowing so bright, he had to turn away. But that wasn't the one thing that made Cas want to spill his insides all over the floor. It was the fact that the once brilliant green eyes he looked into moments before was replaced by the black of a demon.

"You think you can fix me Castiel but have you ever thought that, possibly, I like this sickness coursing through my veins? That I couldn't be happier with slaughtering every single thing in my path? This Mark and me are one and I never felt more alive. Now I am going to love watching the light go from your eyes angel." 

"Dean..there's still hope. We can fix you and revert you back to your old self and everything can be okay again. We.."

"There is no we, Cas! There never was. I don't love you angel. You are nothing to me. You are just a pest that I have been meaning to snuff out from the very beginning. Say goodbye angel."

His eyes water as tears stream down his face as the blade plunges into his chest. Dean shakes me furiously, calling my name over and over again, until I race back to reality. Sam is there, shaking him, telling him to wake up. Cas rubs the sleep from his eyes and stares at Sam with a weary expression.

"What is it Sam?"

"He's gone Cas! He's just..gone."

Cas could sense the alertness in his voice and he places a hand on his shoulder.

"Where is he? Maybe he could be exploring the bunker some more. After all, this place is fairly large."

Sam reaches into his pocket and pulls out a note, heavily folded as if he had read it a dozen times before letting it become true. He takes the note from his hand and scans it rapidly.

IM SORRY BUT I AM TOO FAR GONE. 

                                -DEAN

He crumbles up the note angrily and throws it across the room, watching as it hits the floor lightly.

"What is it with you Winchesters that make you believe that you are not worth it? That you are a loss cause and none of our efforts with help you? Every human being in this world deserves to be saved no matter the deeds that they done. Especially the Winchesters! We are going to find him and send his ass back to the bunker and this time we are going to lock him up! I don't care if you think that this is wrong Sam because Dean needs to be secure under our eyes. Just until we find something to cure him. Dammit we aren't going to lose him again. Not this way."

He nods his head and grabs a duffel bag already filled with provisions.

"It would be better if we split up and cover more ground." Cas states, getting into his own car and starting it up. Not waiting for a response, he drives off into the early morning road, going way above the recommended speed limit.

"I am going to find you, Dean and bring you back home. If it's the last thing I do.."