City of Angels (and Demons)

Chapter Ten

Sam and Dean rushed out of the hospital and were on their way over to the impala when Dean's phone started ringing. Dean grumbled about not having time for this then answered the phone as he and Sam were getting into the car.

"Dean -"

"Cas, we're a little busy at the moment," Dean said, though he had to admit, the urgency in Castiel's voice worried him a bit. He started the car, but decided to hear Cas out before they went anywhere. "This can't wait?"

"No," Cas said. "I'm sure you're aware of the angel I sent to help you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I just received word that he left his vessel. Unconscious. I don't know in what state."

"Dammit," Dean muttered. Sam gave him a curious look. "He was following someone," he said, a look of understanding then concern crossing Sam's face. "If that angel abandoned -"

"He'll be dealt with, just get to the vessel," Cas said. He told Dean where Felix could be found then hung up.

"I'll go see to Felix and you go after Dark," Sam said, getting out of the car. Dean didn't like the idea of splitting up right now, but what else could they do?

"I won't approach him unless it's necessary," Dean said then let Sam know where to find Felix.

Sam nodded acknowledgement. "You think he'd go home?" he asked, speaking of Darkiplier.

"Only one way to find out."

"I'll be over there as soon as I can," Sam said. "Unless you call, then I'll move faster." Dean nodded. "Be careful, Dean." Then he walked off.

Dean watched him go then drove off in the other direction.

————————————————————

Amy had thought about going home to her apartment, but found herself pulling up to Mark's house. She didn't immediately turn around and drive away, so she parked and got out. She let herself into the house, not surprised to hear that Matt and Ryan still weren't home. Ever since their fight with Mark yesterday, they didn't stay home long. And it sounded like they had taken Lego and Banana with them. Hopefully they planned on coming back. No matter what Mark was mixed up in, they were still friends.

She walked upstairs and into Mark's bedroom, seeing Chica curled up on the floor. Amy knelt beside the pup and gave her a big hug as if apologizing that no one else had caught on to Mark's change. Chica's tail thumped against the floor a few times. Amy viewed that as forgiveness.

Leaving the dog be, Amy went into the bathroom. All that crying had tired her out and she needed a nice, warm shower. And even though she and Mark didn't live together, she often stayed over so she had plenty of her own clothes. But, after her shower, she just pulled on Mark's bathrobe then crawled into bed, calling for Chica to join her.

Snuggled up to Chica, Amy nodded off for a brief moment. She woke up when Chica jumped out of bed and ran out of the room. Amy sat up and started to call her back but stopped when she saw Mark standing there.

"What are you doing home already?" Amy asked. When she had been at the hospital, it didn't seem like Dr. Cook would release Mark anytime soon today. Then she realized he was dressed up in a suit. "What are you wearing?"

"Dr. Cook said I could go," Mark said. "I felt bad about earlier and wanted to do something to apologize."

Amy thought about pressing further about his drug use, but decided against it since he had clearly done a lot to make it up to her. She stood up and walked over to him. "Apology accepted," she said, her fingers gently caressing the silk tie he wore. "But you should have come to me before -" She stopped, noticing the blood on his arm. "Oh my god, Mark, what happened?"

Mark lifted his arm as she reached for it, pulling back the torn sleeve and uncovering a nasty scratch. "I got into a fight," he said, sounding like he wasn't bothered by it at all.

"A fight?" Amy pulled him over to the bed to sit down then went and got the first aide kit out of the bathroom. "Why?"

"Wrong part of town, I guess," Mark said. "The other guy looks much worse, I promise." The small smile he gave her was a sign of the Mark she knew and loved. Maybe she had been wrong about the drug use.

She wanted to be wrong.

Amy finished patching him up then watched as he pulled off the suit coat, along with the shirt and tie. "It's not a rental, is it?" she asked, fingering the torn sleeve.

"It's not," Mark assured her. "I guess they were trying to get rid of it. The owner practically gave it to me."

"Maybe because it's easily ripped," Amy said, picking up the shirt and coat to repair it. Before she could walk away, Mark put his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap.

"Do you hate me for what I did?" Mark asked, giving her his puppy dog look.

"I can't hate you," Amy said. "But I do want to know why." She went on when he said nothing, "Is it because of those dreams you keep having?"

Mark looked ashamed, letting her know that she was right. "I was afraid I'd sound like some sort of baby, calling on you because of bad dreams," he said.

"Hey, you know better than that," Amy said. She grinned at him. "You're cute when you're a baby." She put the shirt and coat down then slipped her arms around his neck. "Never be afraid of coming to me about anything. I'm here for you, always."

Mark said nothing and instead pulled her in for a kiss. He kissed her like he never had before: roughly. And when she tried to push him away to get him to ease off, he held her tighter. She pushed against him more, but he didn't relent.

"Mark, stop," she said when he deposited her on the bed and pinned her down. He didn't listen or say anything, his eyes dark with glee.

He yanked the bathrobe open, exposing her bare skin. She tried to move, but he continued to hold her down. She screamed for him to stop, her screams and cries getting louder as his hand roughly moved between her legs. When she screamed for help, his hand clamped tightly around her neck, cutting her off.

She could do nothing but let him have his way with her.