Hello there my lovely readers! Here is the seventh chapter to my story. Sorry it took so long, I was trying hard to make this chapter really good, and then I caught writer's block, and well, long story short it took a while to get this out. I would like to thank SkyHighFan for pointing some things out for me, and I hope I fixed them all with the middle of this chapter!

Usual disclaimer, blah blah owning nothing blah blah not even my soul blah blah

And onto the story!

The Mark of Cain: Chapter 7

Light snores were coming from Castiel's left side, and he turned his red-rimmed blue eyes towards the younger Winchester to find he was asleep. Tired from the day's events, most likely. And to his right he can see Dean's eyelids fluttering, on the cliff of consciousness ready to be knocked over. They've been in this position for around an hour, and Castiel is surprised they were able to last this long with him.

'I should stop this,' he thinks, 'I can't change the past with my tears. But… I can come to accept it.'

Castiel reluctantly breaks up the Winchester sandwich he found himself in, and while Dean has enough sense to wake himself up, Sam falls into the gap Castiel left.

"Something wrong, Cas?" Dean asks languidly, rubbing his eye with one hand and stretching his body, hearing the nice cracks of his bones from coming out of that position. There's a certain coldness about his body now that Castiel's body is gone from his side, but he decides to gloss over that to focus on his friend instead.

"No," Castiel responds with a weary smile, "I'm fine. For the first time in forever, I feel like this… weight, has been lifted from my shoulders."

Dean responds with his own tiny, tired smile, "Glad to hear. You know that no matter what that dick Gadreel did, you still have me and Sammy?"

Castiel's heart flutters at that. "Yes, I know I will still have you both. I think the hugging was very clear."

Dean's cheeks heat up at the mention of the hug, and all the repressed feelings start to slither their way from the depths of Dean's soul and right into his mind. He looks into Castiel's eyes and can see a range of things going on in the angel's mind.

'Maybe I should just bite the bullet and tell him,' Dean thinks, 'it seems like the perfect moment. And… I think he feels the same way so…'

"Hey Cas-"

A loud snore interrupts Dean's confession, and both blue and green turn towards the large moose of a man sprawled disgustingly over the sofa.

"He must be really tired from the spell."

And just like that the illusion is shattered, and Dean shakes his head to clear his mind from the previous thoughts.

"He sure is."

'What was I thinking? Of course he doesn't feel the same about me, we're just friends! As if he could even love someone as despicable as me… it must be the pills. Pills!'

His mind races back towards his guiding light.

'That's what I need right now… lift me out of my funk.'

Dean starts up from the couch, and shuffles his way to his room.

"Dean?"

Dean turns to Castiel, hooded eyes locking with curious, open ones.

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean asks with a big grin.

"Where are you going?"

"To my room… need to get something." He starts to scratch his arm again. Right where the mark is, under the bunched fabric his clenched fingers make.

"Okay…" Castiel says, moving towards Sam, "please hurry back."

Dean waits a beat to just stare at Castiel, concernedly leaning over his brother to make sure that Sam is okay, moving his head so he can still breathe. Pain starts to well up inside of him, but this time starting from his heart and not his mark. He finally forces himself to look away, and walk to his bedroom.

'Castiel is too perfect to even consider having feelings for some broken little boy.'

He's halfway to his bedroom.

'He's better off without me anyway. All I do is poison everything I touch.'

He's at the door now.

'Frankly I'm just surprised he's still here. You'd think he would have left me behind already, knowing how dangerous I am.'

He's at the dresser drawer.

'Because that's what everyone wants to do nowadays. Dad left, Bobby left, Charlie left, Sam tried to leave, Cas did too, but he decided to come back by his own choice.'

One pill.

'Why do you continue to fool yourself into thinking anyone even loves you.'

Three pills.

'Even you don't love you.'

Two more pills.

…Silence.

'What was that?'

Gadreel was pulled out of his musings by a strange twinge he felt in his grace. Like an unwanted presence, a strange force, yet oddly… familiar.

He tries to trace the intruder back, following the footsteps they left in the ether, but loses track quickly.

'Damn.'

Gadreel finds his center and then gets up from the booth, moving back towards the bar.

"I'm going to need something strong," he mutters, pulling out the bottle of Jack Ezekiel stored under the counter. He pulled the neck right up to his lips and drank straight from the bottle, no time for a glass.

"Hitting the whiskey at this time? Maybe you've still got a little of the Winchester still in you?"

Gadreel splutters as Metatron reappears in the bar.

"What are you doing back?"

"I wrapped up work a bit early and decided to booze before going back to the missus and, well, where can I go that lets me drink for free?"

His sarcasm wears thin on what little patience Gadreel has left, so he goes back to the bottle in his hands before he shatters it.

"Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

The serpent's mind quickly flashes back to his weird feeling, but squashes that idea in an instant.

'If he can keep his secrets, why can't I?

"No, just had a little quiet time. Which is hard to come by with you hanging over my shoulder…"

"Now I resent that," Metatron starts, "but ultimately agree with."

"So what did you have to do in Heaven?"

"Just a little tidying up," Metatron says through the liquor, "taking stock of the artifacts and what not. Nothing special."

Gadreel would ask why he needs to look through the artifacts, but decides not to when he knows he wouldn't get an answer anyway.

"Really? All your power and you're left to do grunt work, eh, X?"

"Well, until I can make my own angels, I'll have to get my hands dirty."

The bottle pauses on its way to Gadreel's mouth as he takes in the new information. Even Metatron is surprised at himself, if his "deer in the headlights" look is anything to go by.

"Look at the time I must be going!"

Metatron is gone before Gadreel can even process the words he uttered before.

'New angels?'

Now this is something he definitely cannot handle sober.

"I wonder where he put the vodka?"

"Sam, Sam wake up," Castiel shakes the comatose hunter, hoping to move him into his bedroom instead of the uncomfortable couch.

"Wha- Cas? Wh-where's Dean?" Sam stirs, confusion etched clearly on his features.

"He'll be back soon, come on, we've got to get you to bed. You must be tired."

Sam pushes away the proffered hand, instead shaking his head, long locks spreading out, becoming more alert.

"No, no, I'm fine," Sam tries to convince, but a stray yawn escapes his lips at the end. His shifting eyes finally focus in on Castiel. "Actually, I have some questions for you."

"Go ahead, or as your brother would say," Castiel puts his hands up for air quotes, "'Shoot'."

"When you were telling your story, I thought you were captain of your garrison? Or was it Anna?"

"While I was captain of my garrison, for the short amount of time it was, I was still under orders from Uriel. I was kept on a very short leash. Even when Anna was captain, I still needed Uriel's permission before I could go on a mission. Sometimes I had to stay behind while others went ahead."

"Okay… it's starting to come together," Sam utters, understanding flashing across his features. "So, they 'reconditioned' you. Was this like what Naomi did?"

"No… what she did was much worse," he mutters, remembering the torture he was put through to force him to murder his Dean. "What they did was only drain me of my spirit and put a limit to my powers."

"What? How is that not worse than what Naomi did!?" Sam yelps, giving the angel a weird glance. A short withering look sent by the angel under fire clued Sam in as to why.

"Okay… so, you have a limit."

"Had."

"Had?" Sam inquires, to which Castiel nods. "So, what can you do now?"

"Next to nothing."

"But I thought you said you don't have a limit anymore?"

"I did not lie Sam," Castiel says, "but this is not my grace. This is the grace of a fallen brother I stole to survive. Since falling all angels have had their graces diminished… tarnished… so they cannot do all the wonders they once did. And since I am operating under someone else's grace, even I cannot do that. All I can do now is heal and smite."

"So what could you do before?"

"Even I do not know myself, Sam." Castiel now has a bemused expression on his face, remembering something in his past. "Some said I was as powerful as God himself, others more. But those are just rumors that no one should put their faith in."

"And you said they drained your spirit? Your will, basically. How'd you get it back."

This time, Castiel looks straight into Sam's eyes, a look of adoration in his eyes as he says: "When I first laid eyes on your brother's soul."

This piques Sam's interest ten-fold, and he's doubling over, motioning for Castiel to continue his story.

"I doubted that I would be able to even find "The Righteous Man", but orders were orders. Twenty different garrisons were sent down along with mine, and I think the only reason they sent me to Hell was so they could get rid of me without getting their hands dirty. When I got separated from the others in Hell, I thought I was done for. But then… then I saw this strange glowing. It was calling me, beckoning me towards it. I followed, and was greeted by the strangest of sights. This man, torturing a woman with only a corkscrew and a shoe, glowing this ethereal emerald. It was the most beautiful color I had ever seen. I thought, 'how can such a demon glow so bright'? I accidentally made a noise, and he turned his black eyes towards me. Forgetting the woman he advanced towards my location, sending out waves of green energy. They connected with my blue, and suddenly… I saw. Everything. His life. His dreams. You. It was then I realized who he was and, while he was stunned by the contact, I gripped him tight and raised him from perdition. While ascending, from layer to layer, I could not concentrate on anything except this soul. How it re-sparked my curiosity. I wanted to learn everything there was about this man. So after he was raised, I tried to connect to him like we did in Hell, only then learning that doing this would cause him terrible harm. So, I went behind Uriel's back and searched for a vessel. And then… well… you know the rest, Sam."

Sam was so lost in Castiel's second story of the day, he was startled when Castiel laid a hand on him, concern leaking through his blue eyes. He couldn't even speak, too stunned by the amount of love he heard through his speech. Castiel was head over heels in love with Dean.

'If only my idiot of a brother would get his head out of his ass and fucking talk to him."

Sam was going to continue, but then there was a crash coming from the other room. Both heads twirled towards the noise, and they rushed to the scene. And what a sight to behold.

Their on the ground, Dean was laughing his ass off while the glass table was shattered into pieces by the fallen bookshelf. Next to the forlorn hunter, the angel tablet laid near an outstretched hand.

"Dean," Sam yelled, "what the hell happened!"

Dean looked to the doorway, a faraway look to his eyes, "Sammy! Cassie! S-s-so glad you're here!"

He tries to stand, but his legs are too weak to even move of their own volition. He ends up in a bigger heap on the ground.

"Dean!" Cas yells this time, but it's more out of concern than of anger. He flies towards his hunter, helping him stand.

"Thanks, Cassie!" Dean flings his arm over the angel and gives him a big smooch on the cheek. Frozen in place, Castiel's cheeks flare up, and he drops Dean back on the ground.

"Cas!" Sam yells because, really, this situation has just gotten worse. He had a drunk brother, a socially awkward angel, and a mess to deal with. And he's supposed to be recovering! He flies to the scene, and helps Dean to get back up again, for the third and hopefully last time. "Now can you please explain what the hell happened here, Dean?"

"Sure thing Sammy," Dean ruffles Sam's mane, and falls back on the chair Castiel was able to pull out for him after breaking from his kiss-induced trance. "I was making my way back from my room, when suddenly, I got lost! This house is so freaking huge, you can't believe it! It's like a maze…" Dean's eye starts to wander.

"Hey! Hey!" Sam's in Dean's face now, snapping fingers right next to Dean's eyes, "eyes on me. Come on focus! How much did you drink, anyway?"

"I'm one hundred percent sober, Sammy!" Dean insists, "Come on, smell my breath!" Dean doesn't wait for Sam to answer, instead leaning into Sam's personal space, opening his mouth as wide as he could and breathing a huge breath onto Sam's moosey nose.

'Moosey… hehehe.'

Sam's surprised that Dean's breath is not tinged with alcohol, and nearly misses the next thing Dean says.

"-so that's when I start laughing and I laughed my way into the bookcase. I think it fell after that, but I couldn't see through the tears. But the table also broke too… I think."

"Wait, wait, wait." Sam stops Dean from going off tangent again. Castiel is floored, having heard what Dean said first, and now Sam is really curious about what Dean was talking about. "What made you laugh so hard?"

"Listen, listen, silly Sammy," Dean bops Sam on the nose with his finger. "I said that I saw the angel tablet lying around when Kevin was still here, where'd he go by the way, and that I picked it up and saw this really funny part where you have to mix three nephilim feathers with this… something something blah blah blah. I don't remember, but it was funny."

Dean moves onto something else though, however Sam is still processing the little nugget of information Dean decided to share with them.

'Dean can read the tablet?'

"Can you please repeat what you said Dean?"

"Oh, about how you should never pick up glass with your-"

"No, no, what you said earlier."

Dean is trying to concentrate, but his mind is a scattered mess. He thinks he knows what they are asking for. "Oh, when I asked where Kevin went! Yeah, where is the little guy, it's been quiet without him." Dean's moving his head left and right, trying to see if the little AP student would pop out of a hidden corner. Castiel lays his hand on Dean's shoulder and Dean's cloudy green eyes look into Castiel's sad blue ones.

"Dean… Kevin is dead. Remember?"

A beat of silence passes, before Dean exhales a soft "oh."

"Was it quick? That's how I'd want to go, quick and painless. Like the opposite of my life."

Only Dean laughs at the joke.

Sam is getting real tired of whatever shit Dean is trying to pull, so he grips the other shoulder hard and forces him to look into his hazel eyes.

"No, Dean, about reading the angel tablet."

Understanding flashes through Dean's eyes, "Oh yeah, that! But I mean, that isn't important. Can't you guys read it too?" Dean wobbles from the chair, and bends to pick up the tablet. He has the stone in his hands before he tumbles, having leant too far forward. He's on his back, holding the tablet in the air, laughing again. "See! Can't you see the words?"

Sam has had enough, he stomps towards Dean and rips the stone from his brother's weak grip. After placing the artifact in the awaiting hands of the angel, he picks Dean up from the ground, puts him on his feet, and then-

Slap.

Dean's hands fly to his cheek. "Sammy, w-why'd you hit me?"

"Because you are acting like an ass, Dean. That's why. Now can you stop acting like you're six and be a fucking adult?"

Obviously this was the wrong thing to say, as Dean pushes Sam away and stumbles towards the exit, tears starting to pool in his eyes. Castiel looks towards Dean, wanting to follow, but cannot move as he too cannot understand Dean's strange behavior.

"What is wrong with him?" Sam mutters, threading his fingers through his brown locks.

"Is it not alcohol?" Castiel queries, turning his gaze towards the young Winchester.

"No," Sam breathes out, "his breath was clean. I smelt nothing."

"So then… what can it be?"

Sam mulls it over for a minute, before admitting that he doesn't know.

While they worry over Dean, the man in question falls into bed, a bottle of pills clutched in his hands.

In a town somewhere in New Mexico, in a school, a girl is running through the hallways of her empty school. She is looking everywhere, trying to find a way out. The doors shut suddenly, and she and her boyfriend were trapped. Since they were in school after hours, the darkness was thrilling… adventurous even. Now, it's just scarier. She can hear a strange clicking sound coming from behind her, and she quickens her pace.

Click.

It seems to be catching up.

Click.

It's almost on top of her.

Click.

She stops. The sound passed her, and continues on. She sighs, thinks she's safe, and turns around. She bumps into something, and she's sent sprawling onto her back, shirt stained with blood, and horror painted across her face.

"Kevin, no!"

Hanging from the rafters is a boy, no older than a senior, with words carved into his chest, and blood dripping everywhere.

Click.

She looks above her and-

Splat.

…

Click.

Click.

Click.

Hey there friends! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Again, sorry for the long wait, but I wanted to make this chapter really good for all of you, and I hope I accomplished that! Have a grand ole time and remember to review!