Cursed or not (Destiel)

The sunken drop

"Once you touch that darkness, it never goes away.
The truth is, I'm past saving."
Dean 10x07

Her disheveled, dark hair spread around her head like a halo. Bright blue eyes that looked at him as he bent down to her on the pillows. Her hands on his shoulders. It was perfect. He didn't know what it was, but she had that certain something. Maybe the entirely misplaced feeling of familiarity. Something about her reminded him of something good.
Then the desire, the ecstasy, like a fever, slowly rising, more and more urgent and inevitable. No more scruples, no more reins, no more control. Unrestrained.

Heavily breathing Dean woke up. Sweat ran down his body, making his clothes stick uncomfortably to his skin. And yet he froze as if all the warmth had drained from him. For a precious moment it was as if all of this had actually been just a dream, but it wasn't. Panicked, he closed his eyelids and opened them again. Over and over again. Over and over again he saw her eyes wide with fear, heard her sobs, felt her twitching body below him. It was like drowning, being dragged deeper and deeper into a vortex, like sinking into a sea of ​​darkness and guilt.

The shattered mirror showed only fragments of his face, his fist had left distinct marks. Dean couldn't stand the sight of himself any longer, so he looked down at his trembling hand. The skin over the knuckles was ruptured, the blood smeared over the back of the hand. The physical pain felt good, for a moment it repressed the one inside of him.

He couldn't do anything else but hurt the people close to him, he was their undoing, so he more than deserved this pain. All along the line he had failed, as a son, brother, and friend. He was nothing but a disappointment. He was nothing.

Placidly he picked up a shard of mirror. For a brief instant he hesitated, but then he led it to his forearm. Slowly he stabbed his skin and cut it open. The burning pain made him gasp for air. He watched the thick blood oozing from the wound, felt it run warm over his arm. The sap of life that flowed through his veins now welled out of his skin. Why was he allowed to live after doing things like that? His fingers tightened on the shard.

"Dean, what are you doing...?!" He was grabbed by the wrist... Sam. His knees buckled. He was caught before he could hit the cold ground. Why didn't his brother just let him fall? He didn't want to feel anymore, never again.

But he felt. Shame for the moment. His blood tainted and soiled Sam's clothes. But he just kept on holding him unfaltering. Holding him and not letting go of him. Why did he have to find him? His brother shouldn't have seen any of this.

Don't tell it Cas, oh God, don't tell it Cas, was the only thought that Dean brought off. Here slumped on the inhospitable tiles of a bathroom. Blood dripped down and stained everything red that came in contact with it. Absurd. In a situation like this, he was worried, of all things, that his best friend might find out he had injured himself. His best friend, who had saved his life so many times...

If it hadn't been for Sam... Who knows what else he would have done... No, deep down, Dean knew exactly what he would have done, what he should have done. If he had pushed the shard just a little deeper... He would have deserved it.

The hunter didn't believe in fate, but it wasn't just guilt. That was just the drop that broke the barrel. Wasn't he glad that everything was finally going to end? Didn't death promise the long-awaited redemption? Hadn't he long been looking for a reason to let it all end? Now he had found it.

It had been a month since the curse had called Dean its own. Still he avoided mirrors because everything he saw in them was a monster. He had already been under the influence of the Mark of Cain, had been a demon, had done terrible things. But what had happened that new moon night... That line, he had never crossed, not even in Hell. Every day since then had been anguish, but the nights were worse. The dreams hadn't subsided, her screams had never fallen silent.