"Energy cannot be created or destroyed, so maybe the Darkness is just another form of the Mark? It seemed to act as a conduit for evil, holding back the true form of the Darkness."
"It also seems that the Darkness was surviving because of the Mark, it was somehow sustained by the evil and chaos that Cain and his predecessors created."
"Mhmm. Also the whole, there is always an opposite and equal reaction is so accurate right now. Since the Mark was basically exorcised from humanity, the Darkness was released to balance the scales. Now, there's only one thing: how do we stop it?"
"I'm sorry I am of no use, my existence was after the Darkness's birth."
Sam sighed, "It's alright Cas, we'll figure it out."
The angel sighed in reply, the usual pensive look on his features.
They sat in silence for a few moments; Sam typing away at his laptop as Castiel leafed through one of the many large books they had piled on the oak table.
Several of them were stained, blood and oil mixing to create an exotic picture of destruction. The Mark may be physically gone from humanity, but its affects certainly weren't. It had taken hours to clean up the massacre that had occurred.
Sam had recoiled when they had first come back to the bunker, seeing what was supposed to be their home, destroyed. And the bodies, god. One was only a kid, probably the youngest Stine he had assumed. It was horrific.
Dean had had to leave for a few minutes before returning to get rid of the bodies, though he took longer with the kid, carefully picking his body up off the floor to place it outside.
He didn't know what to think, he knew however that his brother sure wasn't going to open up about what had happened anytime soon.
The air still smelled like bleach three days later.
Sam closed his eyes and exhaled, feeling everything build behind his eyes; the stress. There was probably some medium exhaustion somewhere in there too, but caffeine made it easier to deal with.
Dean was currently resting; he'd been asleep for around eighteen hours now, and he'd made sure his brother would get more than four hours after everything they'd been through. A small dose of Ambien mixed in with an overly spiced soup had definitely made sure of that.
"Are you alright Sam?"
His friend's soft, inquisitive voice had him open his eyes.
Sam looked over at Cas, a small smile forming on his lips.
He felt drained, and knew a migraine was starting to form, but given the circumstances, he was okay. Dean was free of the Mark, they had finally gotten their home back in order the other day and they were finally getting back to normal.
Even though those circumstances also included the repercussions of getting rid of the Mark, Dean's horrified memories of what he had done now that his head was finally clear, Charlies death, and his own trauma of the past year.
But here he was, sitting at an old table with a familiar friend and his brother sleeping soundly down the hall.
"Yeah Cas, I think I am."