Cowboys and Angels

17. The Hunter Games

Dean was sitting on his bed in the bunker, holding his right arm. His Mark-fuelled killings plagued his mind. He got up and looked at himself in a mirror, which was divided into three parts by cracks running from side to side.

---

Castiel paced the bunker library. "She barely speaks to me."

Sam appeared and sat down.

Castiel continued. "She's like a wounded animal, just watching me."

"Look, Cas, you know what? You really tried to do the right thing that night." Sam reassured. "You did. This guy Claire was hanging out with, Randy, all he did was use her."

"Well, she thought he was kind. And for that, she loved him. Show how little kindness there was in her life. You know, whatever Randy did, he didn't deserve-"

"No, yeah, I know, I know. I hear you. Dean has had to kill before. We all have. But that was-"

"That was what?" Dean asked.

Sam rose, surprised as Dean walked in from the war room.

"Dean," Sam said.

"That was a massacre. That's what it was." Dean looked from Sam to Castiel. "There was a time I was a hunter, not a stone-cold killer." Castiel and Sam looked at him. "You can say it. You're not wrong. I crossed the line. Guys, this thing's gotta go." Dean looked down at the Mark on his arm.

"That won't be easy," Castiel warned.

"Well, then burn it off! Cut it off," Dean told her.

"It is more than just a physical thing. It will take a very powerful force to remove the effect."

"Dean, we have been through all the lore," Sam said. "There's nothing."

"This reaches back to the time of creation. It may pre-date the lore. If we had the Demon Tablet, maybe."

"But you said it was missing."

"It is." Castiel looked reluctant about her next words. "There may be another way."

HELL - CROWLEY'S THRONE ROOM

Rowena came through the door. She was looking for something, opening a chest and a closet, but not finding it.

"Ah, may I help you?" Guthrie asked.

Rowena turned around, surprised as Guthrie came up behind her.

Guthrie continued. "His majesty didn't want you wandering around unattended. Certainly not in here."

"Och, I was just looking for a wee scrap of food," Rowena replied. "That swill they bring me, hardly fit for the mother of the king."

"I wouldn't know. I don't eat. If you please. I have my orders." He indicated the exit.

"Oh, you poor dear man. Guthrie, is it? Terrified of displeasing him, aren't you? I know how my son can be. You're all scared spitless. Still, a boy listens to his mum. I'd be happy to put in a good word for you."

"I'm fine, thank you."

Crowley opened the door and entered, holding a contract and pen. "Guthrie. Whatever this is, it bores me rigid. Do I sign or not?"

"I found it in order, sir. Do sign."

Crowley signed the contract and handed it to Guthrie. Guthrie nodded at Rowena and left.

"Mummy. Bored? Suicidal? Both?" Crowley asked.

"Hardly, my dear. I'm learning so much. This place of yours? Poor thing. I see now why you are the way you are."