Guilty
I held the knife loosely in my shaking hand. "I- I can't kill someone, Dean."
"Why? You've done it before," he answered easily.
"Under different circumstances. You wouldn't understand."
"Oh, I understand," Dean said with anger forming in his voice.
I gulped nervously. "He hasn't done anything to me."
"So, all these people," he said gesturing to the wall filled with pictures, "deserved it? I guarantee you that they didn't do anything to him either. He just fucking admitted it, Cas!"
I shrugged and avoided his icy gaze that was dead set on me. "What do I need to do to make you break?," Dean asked out loud.
"Maybe if he was Balthazar," he continued as he paced the room for inspiration.
My grip tightened around the knife and Dean seemed to take notice. His eyes shined brightly as an idea formed in his head.
Dean walked quickly up to Joseph and pulled out the now slightly damp rag from his mouth. "Tell me. Have you ever raped a woman?" he asked.
"No," he spat out.
Dean raised an eyebrow and looked back at me then back to Joseph. "So then you've raped a man before."
It wasn't a question. Deans head turned back to me as he reluctantly said 'yes'. My heart felt heavy in my chest.
It was that familiar feeling I got before shooting Balthazar. The feeling of my mouth going dry and the only emotion pouring through me is rage.
I attempted to push it down but only failed when the man spoke again. "He was fucking asking for it."
"Nobody fucking asks for it!," I snapped, visibly shaking.
I walked over to him and cut slowly into the small sliver of skin that was showing from where his shirt had ridden up.
He screamed in pain and I felt myself basking in the sound of it. "You asked to be cut. You shouldn't wear clothes that ride up so easily," I taunted him through his screams.
I turned to Dean who had a small smile playing at his lips. He had a new photo in his hands that he handed to me.
I looked it over quickly. It was a nice looking man in a brown collared shirt and dark jeans. He had his arms crossed as he leaned against a tree. I guessed it was some kind of professional headshot.
The boys eyes burned into mine. They were green like Deans but his gave me a different feeling. Like I was meant to help him.
Dean handed me another photo. It was the same boy but this time he was laying on his back in a field with his throat slit and wide open. His eyes were still open but they didn't carry the life that the previous photo had.
I threw the pictures to the floor and stepped over them to get over to Joseph whose face was twisted in pain still. He threw his head backwards and groaned.
I felt the urge to grab his throat the same way he left the boy in the pictures. I grabbed his cheeks and brought his head back down to face me.
"I'm going to do to you what you did to him."
I threw his head back and quickly dug the knife into his throat before sliding it to the other side slowly.
He started to wither underneath the chains as he desperately clung to life. I watched his dark brown eyes as the light slowly went out of them the same way he must have watched the boy with eyes like Deans.
I exhaled slowly and dropped the knife that was covered in blood. It dropped silently against the plastic wrap.
Dean placed a hand on my shoulder and kissed my temple. "You did it," he whispered proudly.
I pushed him off of me and shook my head. "I thought you said this wouldn't hurt."
Dean wrapped his arms around me and pulled my head into his chest. I listened to the soothing sound of his calm heartbeat. "Oh, its going to hurt. Its going to hurt like hell and you'll even hate yourself. But then you'll realize that these guys deserved it. Just like Balthazar did."
My breath hitched at the sound of his name. I closed my eyes tightly and let a tear spill down my cheek. I wrapped my own arms around Deans back and pulled him closer to me.
He placed his chin on my head ran a comforting hand up and down my back. "You think I do this because I enjoy it? No. I do it to fucking survive."
"Just imagine what would have happened if we didn't kill him tonight. He would be out right now murdering an innocent person. People like that cant change," Dean said hoarsely.
I bit my lip and began to shake uncontrollably. This wasn't supposed to happen. I was supposed to spend the rest of my miserable life in my miserable cell. But now I have even more blood on my hands.
Dean kissed the top of my head sweetly. "Go take a shower and sleep in my bed. Sam can show you how to take care of a body some other time."
I nodded and we both let go of each other simultaneously.
Deans mouth was in a tight firm line but his eyes gave away the real emotion he was feeling at that moment. Guilt. He felt guilty.
My eyes drifted to behind Dean where Joseph hung by his hands still. The blood had stopped pouring put of him. There was a wide trail of blood left from his neck to his shoes.
Blood slowly dripped into a puddle above his sneakers. I felt ill.
"Sam!," Dean cried out before I dropped to my knees and expelled all the contents of my stomach onto the floor.
The heavy door to the room swung open and I could just imagine Sam's wide eyes trying to decipher the situation. It didn't take long.
Sam pulled me up onto my feet and wrapped an arm around my shoulder to help carry me to Deans room. He opened the door and dropped me gently onto the bed.
"It gets better," he whispered reassuringly.
"When?," I asked as my eyes watering up again.
Sam looked sadly at me and shrugged. "Trust me. It does."
He left the room slowly, not sure what else he could say. I felt empty inside. There's no other way to explain it. All I could feel was a hollow ache in my chest. I just needed it to go away.
I looked around the dark room and saw the small clock on the bedside table read '11:02 p.m.' I bit my lip and let my leg shake uncontrollably up and down.
My shaky hand found its way to my mouth. I ran it up and down my face slowly before sighing and standing to my feet quickly. I couldn't hear anyone in the living room so it must be a good sign.
I eyed Deans black hoodie that he wore tonight draped over the chair in the corner. I looked around nervously like someone was watching me but I didn't even care anymore. I needed to leave. Now.
I needed to go confess to the police. I deserved everything they would do to me. I just needed to confess and get this guilt off my shoulders.
I inched my hand closer to the hoodie before hesitating. A voice in my head was screaming at me to grab it and run. I nodded to myself and let out a hitched breath before grabbing it and slipping it easily over me.
I pulled the hoodie swiftly over my head and pulled the strings to tighten it. I walked carefully to the bedroom door and opened it slowly. Sticking my head out and looking up and down the hallway, half expecting someone to be waiting for me to run.
The breath I had been holding since I grabbed the door knob exhaled from me with relief. I stepped out and shut the door quietly and made my way down the long hallway. All the lights were off in the common rooms.
My heart started to pick up its pace the further I made down the bunker to the front door. Part of me was nervous that someone could hear the way it echoed in my chest.
I grabbed the door handle and clenched my eyes while silently praying I wouldn't get caught. I felt the cool breeze hit me as soon as the door opened. While opening my eyes, I quickly turned around to make sure no one was around.
It was clear. I smiled softly and stepped out before closing the heavy door firmly but quietly. The Impala was gone from where it was parked earlier so Dean must still be gone.
I chuckled while my chest swelled with relief. Time to get the hell out of here.
