▸ i didn't mean to.

Prologue

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"Bitch."
"Jerk."
Were the famous lines spoken as soon as a small disagreement was sorted out between the Winchester brothers about what Sam had ordered. The two had been working on some brotherly bonding by going out for lunch at a local diner after Sam ended up finding absolutely nothing to work on. No mysterious deaths for once, it was a miracle. Obviously Dean's only interest to celebrate his day off was to stay at the bunker, drinking beer while he watched Busty Asian Beauties all day, but Sam, naturally being the more reasonable of the two, forced Dean off of the couch so the two could get a change of scenery while still tending to the older Winchester's needs; food. Burgers, in particular.
"Seriously, you're sure you don't want me to call her back so you can order something that's actually appetising?"

"Shut up, Dean. There's nothing wrong with eating healthy!"

"...Don't you ever say the 'H' word in front of me ever again."

The younger of the two rolled his eyes playfully, followed by a soft chuckle under his breath as he followed his brothers gaze over to the waitress that had just walked off after grabbing their order. Typical Dean, perving on whoever served him. "See something you like?" Sam asked with an absent shrug, causing Dean's attention to focus back on his brother rather than the waitresses backside. "What? No. I mean, unless you count the greasy food passing our table and teasing me about it, then yeah." He retorted with a firm nod of his head and a small smirk on his lips, always denying when he could. As annoying as it got sometimes, Sam missed this. He missed being able to do this with his brother without having to watch their back the majority of the time. He missed having a normal life, away from the evil of the world.
An uneasy feeling welled up in Sam's chest as he watched his brother roll his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing the bottom half of the Mark of Cain. Regardless of how much searching he and Castiel did, Sam could just never find a solution that wasn't complicated beyond their power. Honestly, it scared him. It scared him to think that one day, his brother wouldn't be his brother anymore. He'd be a demon again, or even worse.
"How are you?" he asked in a subtle tone, his hazel orbs flicking down towards the mark before focusing on his brothers face again, which seemed to just twist into recognition instantly.

"I'm fine, Sam. Don't worry about me." he sighed deeply,  the amount of times Dean had to repeat that same sentence was getting ridiculously annoying, but then again it was definitely better than having to explain the truth. Honestly, he felt horrible. Every time he saw something sharp, he wanted to use it to massacre everyone in the room. If he held back, it'd only get worse and he'd start hallucinating bloody scenarios. Dean knew that one day he'd lose it, he knew that from the moment he touched the First Blade for the first time, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now. "Come on, let's not ruin a good day, alright? I've been craving a vacation forever." He murmured as he leaned back in his chair and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his forest green eyes seeming to light up as soon as he caught a glimpse of the waitress from earlier walking over to the two with matching plates. "Here you go boys, enjoy." she smiled at the two, receiving a smile and a wink back from Dean and a polite smile from Sam. At first glance of Dean's greasy order, Sam just raised an eyebrow and flashed a genuinely concerned look towards his older brother. "Dude, that looks like a heart attack on a plate." he commented with complete seriousness over his features and words, but of course Dean retorted just as quickly. "Oh, just shut up and eat your cabbage patch."

Twenty minutes or so passed before the brothers ended up paying and leaving, arriving back at the bunker before noon although the sky had already started to darken in the slightest way, a dark blue-orange ombré clouding the sky. "I've gotta hand it to ya, Sammy. You're not that bad at small talk. I mean, that waitress was all over you." Dean spoke with a smirk as they walked through the front door almost in unison, trudging down the stairs and relieving themselves of their coats straight afterwards. "Or maybe she doesn't appreciate guys staring at her half the time." he suggested with snark lacing his tone, a grin spreading on his lips as he did so.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Cupid. Why don't you actually do something useful and help set me up next time?" Dean wiggled his eyebrows, causing Sam to shake his head and laugh in amusement. "Yeah, sure."

A few more hours full of separate relaxation passed, causing the night to fall and cover the sky in a dark purple-black haze, the brighter colours disappearing for the night. "You should get some sleep." Dean spoke, arching an eyebrow at Sam who was nodding off to sleep while they were watching one of Dean's western classics. Clint Eastwood, of course. "Hm.. What? No way, I'm watching this." the tireder voice murmured as his squinted eyes gestured towards the old television, but of course Dean wouldn't take no for an answer. "Am I gonna have to pick you up and take you to bed? It was easy when you were little, but now you're freakin' giant. So save me the trouble, will ya?" he smirked cheekily, watching as Sam pouted and brought himself to his feet, rubbing his eyes tiredly afterwards. "Fine, fine. Goodnight." he mumbled as he turned on his heels and almost stumbled to his allocated room, Dean's eyes boring into his back as he did so. "Night." he replied simply, still worrying about his little brother even over the tiniest things.

The clock hit 2am and Dean was still as wide awake as when the film started, though of course it ended way back at 11pm. Insomnia certainly was a bitch. With a soft groan, he pulled himself to his feet and ran his hand over his face, the green in his eyes having dulled from lack of attention to sleep, though oddly he wasn't as tired as he thought he would be. No, he was as awake as ever, and he was craving blood. His veins in his head pulsed with each step he took towards the bathroom, and the skin beneath his eyes had reddened in the slightest way possible. Upon arrival, Dean lazily looked at himself in the mirror, noticing his current state. He hated it. Being able to watch himself slowly turn into a monster, it was worse than Hell itself. Shaking the thought from his head, he turned the cold water tap on and splashed his face with it, lifting his head to look at the mirror afterwards, but instead of his own reflection, he saw his own brother staring back at him, his face and clothing all battered and bloody with a stab wound to his heart. It honestly scared the crap out of Dean to the point where he had to jump back from the mirror and rub his eyes until he saw blotches of colour clouding his vision in order to get rid of the horrific sight. "Sammy..." he murmured beneath his breath, furrowing his brows as he warily left the bathroom and made his way to his brothers room, opening the door quietly and peeking in just the slightest to check on his little brother, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully for once. That allowed a wave of relief to wash over Dean's body and mind as he closed the door slowly and headed back to his own room, discarding his outer clothing garments before dropping down onto his bed and staring up at the roof until his eyes forced themselves closed for him and his mind drift into a restless slumber. Sleep would be good for him. Sleep is what he needed.