Style

The Morning After

"We always end up here don't we, Karls?" Dean smiled up and the blue eyed girl in front of him.

"This is where it all started so it only seems fit," Karlie smiled back at him. "But you didn't have me meet you here just to reminisce." He nodded.

"It's getting harder. To control myself that is. Sam keeps saying everything will be ok and I keep trying to show him that it is but I don't know how much longer it will last." He spoke, staring at the back of the bar. Karlie looked at him sympathetically.

"Do you want me to tell you it'll be ok?" She tried to smile.

"You've never been a good liar, Karls. It wouldn't really help." He chuckled.

"What have you done to... to try and get it off?" She asked. Dean put his drink down and pulled up his sleeve revealing the Mark of Cain.

"Does this look like it'll just easily come off? It's embedded in my skin. It carved into my arm." He spoke while running his thumb over the bumps of the Mark.

"Have you ever thought about transferring it to someone else? Like Cain did to you?"

"I would never put that on someone else. I couldn't do that to anyone." He said looking up at him.

"I know of a few people who would be willing to take the burden from you," Karlie put her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not giving it to Sam or Cas no matter how hard they beg," He looked into her eyes.

"I wasn't talking about them..." She let her voice fade out.

"No, absolutely not Karlie!" Dean nearly shouted.

"Dean, stop trying to protect me like I'm a fragile child. I want to help you!" She shouted back.

"Do you know how long it took me to get you out of this life? To make it so you could be normal and do normal things that a normal 28 year old would do." He said leaning in.

"I never asked that of you Dean. You can't hold that over my head." She glared back at him.
"So what? Now I'm the bad guy because I gave you the childhood I never had?" He threw back at her.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a child anymore. I can take care of myself and I can take care of you." Her eyes softened.

"I can't. I can't put this on you, Karls. I couldn't, especially not to you." He says like a whisper to his drink.

"Well how else can I help? I want to help you." She places a hand on his shoulder.

"I just need you..." He said while picking at the napkin on the counter in front of him, his lips in a firm line. "You're my best friend." He looked up at her and she smiled back.

"We'll figure this out. We always do." He nodded and leaned into the hand she had placed on his cheek.

"Now, enough sappy talk, Dean Winchester. Let's do something else we've always been good at. Drinking." She winked and held up you glass to him.

Dean woke up the next morning and could feel the alcohol as it was leaving his veins. It had been a while since he had drank like that and had fun with it. Usually it was to drown the memories of what he had done. But not with her. Things were always different with her.

He staggered into the kitchen and found the coffee pot full of the black liquid that would enable him to move for the rest of the day. The hot drink hit the cup and the aroma filled his nose. He took a giant sip as he heard the heavy steps of boots entering the room.

"Back again from another night out I see," His brother spoke in a condescending tone.

"If you have a problem with me, you should just say it, Sam," Dean glared at him.

"I don't get it, Dean. Cas and I are trying to help get the Mark off of you but you don't even seem to care. All you're doing is going out to bars and drinking yourself to death," Sam stated as Dean looked up to him.

"You have no idea what I do when I go out. You don't know anything, Sammy." He shouted at his brother.

"Of course I don't! You don't tell me anything!" The younger brother shouted back.

"I can handle it on my own. I don't need to bring this onto you." Dean tried to speak calmly as he felt the anger in him rise.

"I don't understand you. You have to help everyone else but will never let anyone help you. It's so frustrating!" Sam grabbed a mug for his coffee and slammed it down on the table. "Just let me freaking help you!"

"I don't know if you can help me, Sam! I don't know what there is to help! I don't know how to fix it or if the Mark will even come off. And I am dealing with that. Are you?!" He shouted as he stormed out of the room with his fists clenched tight together.

He had never thought about hitting his little brother before. Not before the Mark that is. His anger was slowly reaching its peak and that scarred him. He didn't want to cause more damage than he already had. He just couldn't shake the thought of his fist hitting Sam's cheek out of his might. What he really needed right now was a long drive in Baby and ice cold beer.