Daughter of Cain

by Silent Wolf Singer

When Cain went to rescue Colette from Abaddon his heart broke as she died in his arm. Though he lost the woman he ever loved, he had to keep his word never to kill again and protect their daughter. See through the eyes of Vivian Colette Mullen the Dame of Hell and Cambion as she deals with the rise of the supernatural. (Chapter 1-11 Rated T. Chapters 12 Rated M)

27. Chapter 27: The Prisoner

Daughter of Cain

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

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Chapter 27: The Prisoner

Vivian's POV

Blood on the tile.

Blood on the tile.

Blood on the tile.

I have seen blood. I have witnessed gruesome wounds of amputations. I have seen men, women, and children die. I have seen sickness consume populations. I have seen murder on the regular. Death was expected, as I have been desensitized from it. Either it is my demon half or complete exposure to death that was normal.

But Charlie's death…

I have only known her for a few days, and it shouldn't have affected me this much. People come and go, and it's usually not enough time to form a connection. Yet, Charlie's death has had a profound impact on me. Perhaps she didn't see me as a threat despite knowing what I am. Even when I reveal my cambion form while touching the Book of the Damned, she simply smiles and adjusts her plans to make me feel more comfortable in her presence, easing my fears of hurting her.

My bond with Dean played a significant role in deepening my familiarity with Charlie, as Dean viewed her as his sister and part of his family. Consequently, my protectiveness towards Charlie mirrored that sentiment. Maybe I was just hoping for a friend—a female friend who was accepting.

I still don't know how I found myself back in the Bunker.

The shock engulfed me, and I felt compliant. I remember Dean helping me and instructing Sam to get me into the Impala. The drive back felt surreal, and then we arrived at the garage. Dean took me to the bathroom to wipe the blood off my body. After that, everything went blank.

When I woke up, I found myself in my room. I stared at my hands; although they were clean, I could still see the blood. As the blood turned black, another episode began to take hold of me, and the whispering returned. It had been a while since my last episode.

Brother.

Traitor.

Let me out.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

There was a decline.

The dark liquid vanished.

I sighed and took a moment to regain my composure before changing into fresh clothes. Once I was ready, I set out to find the Winchesters. I checked my phone and saw they hadn't left yet, meaning they must still be in the Bunker. I looked around but didn't see them anywhere, so I decided to step outside to start tracking them. Using our bond, I teleported to their location and found Sam and Dean preparing a pyre.

A hunter's funeral.

I stood there, unsure of what to do. Since I wasn't a hunter, I considered leaving. However, Dean noticed me and gestured for me to help. I nodded and made my way over to assist. I followed his instructions, opting to do things manually instead of trying to warp reality. Both Winchesters were deep in thought, wrestling with their grief and regret. It seemed best to let them process those feelings.

When it was time, Dean went to the Impala, retrieving Charlie's wrapped remains. Sam helped set the center of the pyre. They pour salt and gasoline on the remains before lighting it on fire. I stood between the two brothers as we watched Charlie being cremated.

"Charlie…" Sam spoke. "We're gonna miss you. You were the best. And I'm so sorry—"

"Shut up," Dean said, eyes focused on the pyre. "You got her killed. You don't get to apologize."

This baffled Sam, trying to find his words, "We were trying to help you."

"I didn't need help," Dean said harshly. "I told you to leave it alone."

Sam shook his head, "What was I supposed to do, just…watch you die?"

Dean was still focused on the pyre. "The mark isn't gonna kill me."

"Maybe not, but … when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore." Sam countered. "Dean, you're all I've got. So, of course, I was gonna fight for you. Because that's what we do. Listen, I had a shot –"

"Yeah, you had a shot," Dean interrupted, then turned to face Sam. "Charlie's dead. Nice shot."

"Stop," I finally spoke out. "Charlie doesn't want you to be fighting. At least not in front of her."

But they did not listen.

"You think I…" Sam choked on his words. "You think I'm ever…gonna forgive myself for that?"

"You want to know what I think?" Dean replied. "I think it should be you up there – not her."

Those words struck Sam so hard that he couldn't look Dean in the eyes. Focusing his attention on the pyre.

"This thing with Cass and the Book ends now," Dean warned. "Shut it down before somebody else gets hurt, you understand me?"

Sam was quiet momentarily before saying, "What about you?"

Dean turns his attention to the pyre, "Oh, I'm gonna find whoever did this, and I'm gonna rip apart everything and everyone that they've ever loved, and then I'm gonna tear out their heart."

I stared at him, shocked by this, declaring, "Is that the mark talking?"

Dean stared at me, "Does it matter?"

Without another word, Dean turned and walked away. Sam and I watched him go, a heavy weight settling in our chests. This was not good. Charlie's death had pushed him over the edge, and the Mark was gaining control. We were out of time. I had to prepare the ashes and reach out to Castiel—there was no more room for hesitation. We needed to act fast before Dean made a choice that would seal his fate forever.

I turned to face Sam.

"I will be there for Dean," I said.

"I messed up," he said.

"That you did," I said. "And it came with a price."

"Vivian," he started.

I raised my hand, silencing him. "Tell Castiel to get rid of the book. Put it in a warded box, and hide it so no one can find it."

"Vivian," Sam said.

"That book calls to the Mark, it calls to me, and the Stynes want it. If it gets into the wrong hands, it will be chaos all over again. So do it." I told him. "Because it is not Dean becoming a demon you should fear."

With that said, I started making my way back.

Sadly, Dean was gone. I tried to track him down, but I couldn't. I cursed under my breath, knowing he had probably grabbed a hex bag and left to find the Stynes. When that happened, it would surely turn into a bloodbath, and he would lose himself in the process.

Realizing that now was the time, I headed to the Bunker to prepare the ashes for the Ash Dagger.

.o0o.

Sadly, I was right, as I felt the adrenaline rush through my body and my cambion form exposed. Fresh blood, fresh human blood, has been spilled. I fell to my knees, trying to grasp what my emotions were from Dean's, yet there was too much. There are too many emotions of utter hatred, grief, and sorrow. The Mark fed on those emotions while blinding Dean in a furious rage.

As the darkness receded, I panted, fully aware that Dean was slipping away. Gasping for breath, I got up and focused on the Ash Dagger. I meticulously reviewed documents regarding the dagger and the notes Castiel had taken during his observations. Wearing protective enchanted gloves, I grasped the dagger firmly. I applied a paste made from the ashes of plants from my birthplace, along with Kraken's blood and holy water. I ensured the blade was well coated, knowing it was essential for my eternal slumber. This was the only way to save Dean and to secure the entity within the Mark of Cain.

I took a deep breath, accepting my fate. A death-like sleep awaited me. I would not be going to heaven or hell but to the void of emptiness. May the Entity of the Empty show me no wrath.

I took another deep breath.

Suddenly, there was the sound of an explosion.

"What the!" I gasped, securing the dagger, and went to investigate.

As I headed to the library, I walked past Dean's room, though I stopped. I took a deep breath, grabbing a few weapons in case this was an intruder. Grabbing what I needed, I started making my way.

"Hello!" Bellowed a voice. "Anybody in here?!"

Eldon, I thought.

He must have come to finish the job or to collect the Men of Letters, artifacts, and documents. I hid in the hallway, checking the gun to ensure the magazine was full. Because of the Bunker's wards, I couldn't warp reality or use other abilities. All I had left was my strength, senses, and endurance.

"All right, then," Eldon said aloud. "Take whatever looks interesting."

Quickly, I pulled out my phone and texted Sam and Dean to get here. I said that the Stynes had infiltrated the Bunker.

"And burn the rest," Eldon added.

I cursed under my breath as I started moving, attempting to find a better vantage point to assess how many were there. With the Stynes altering their bodies, it sounded like there were five heartbeats. Since they could have multiple organs, I couldn't rely solely on my senses, especially considering the possibility that I might have to break my vow. Part of me debated whether to rush to the garage and escape, but doing so would leave the Bunker exposed.

When I finally found a secure spot, I realized there were three men. Eldon was in charge, accompanied by a brute and a younger man—a teenager wearing glasses. Quietly, I made my way to the electrical room and turned off the generator. Darkness engulfed the facility, illuminated only by a red light. Taking a deep breath, I gathered my focus to enhance my eyesight and began to move.

"We're not alone," Eldon's voice could faintly be here. "Cyrus, stay here. Roscoe, let's go."

I started moving again, for the best thing I could do was keep moving and shoot them down when they least expected it.

"Come on out," Eldon exclaimed. "We know you're in here."

I kept moving, cautious with every step, while relying on my senses. When I turned the corner, I stopped hearing Eldon coming this way. It sounded like it was just him, so I waited. When Eldon stepped in, I summoned my strength, punching at him. Eldon ducked as my fist made contact with the wall, putting a hole in it. Eldon punched me in the chest, and I stumbled back. He grabbed my arm, pushing me, attempting to pin me, yet I maneuvered, punching him in the gut. He groaned as I grabbed him by the neck and threw him across the hall.

The second man came rushing in, who I assume was Roscoe being bigger. He threw several punches, yet I avoided each attack. When I found an opening, I kicked the man in the gut, knocking him down. I was about to do another kick, yet Roscoe got up, blocking each of my attacks while he walked backward. I had him pinned to the door, giving another punch, in which he dropped, the impact putting a massive dent in the door. I did a kick that Roscoe grabbed, yanking me down.

I fell, hitting my back, and gasped as Roscoe climbed on top. Wrapping my legs around his torso, I switched position, punching him repeatedly in the head. A crunch could be heard, no doubt breaking his nose. Suddenly, there was a click; as I glanced up, I saw a gun aimed at my head. Eldon stood there impressed.

"You're definitely not human," Eldon murmured.

He lowered the gun and fired, shooting me in the shoulder. A searing pain entered me, knocking me down, followed by my body being immobilized. Roscoe shoved me down, standing up and rubbing his bloody face. He gave a hard kick in my stomach, and as pain consumed me, a cry escaped. All my energy vanished, yet I could still move.

Eldon stomped his foot into my chest, hovering over me. "Sigil bullets. We have our fair share of monsters. Takes all the energy out but keeps you alive. Makes it easy when we dissect your kind."

I glare at him.

Eldon took a pair of handcuffs, similar to what the Men of Letter use, and restrained me.

"My Old Man will have fun dissecting you," Eldon murmured.

"Your daddy will be dead by then once I get free," I threatened.

Eldon laughs, "I would like to see you try."

Roscoe and Eldon seized me and dragged me back to the library. I cried out in pain as the bullet lodged deeper in my shoulder. Once we arrived at the library, they tossed me to the ground. A teenager, whom I assumed was Cyrus, stared at us while holding one of the tomes.

"Who's she?" Cyrus asked.

"A fine woman from the House of Hā·'ā·ḏām," Eldon answered. "Best guess, an immortal."

"An immortal," Cyrus repeated.

I kept my mouth shut. Immortal might be my only cover. For the moment they get me out of the Bunker's ward, I can do more damage. I should have shot them, yet I was focused on keeping my vow that it would have me captured.

"Imagine all the organs and muscles we can get from her," Eldon murmured.

I growled at him, though toning down the demonic to it.

Eldon winked as he searched me, taking the gun and the Ash Dagger. He hissed, dropped the dagger, and then looked at me.

"That's a dark weapon," he murmured. "Why do you have it?"

I glared at him.

Eldon smirked before standing, 'Now, let's continue our search."

.o0o.

Cyrus remained in the library, reviewing the books and creating a pile of those he found interesting while deciding which ones to discard. Eldon and Roscoe tossed many books into the discard pile, but Cyrus placed every book in the keep pile. Occasionally, he would glance at me.

I stared at him, listening to his heartbeat, noting that he had only one. I also observed that he was wearing glasses and wondered if he was different from the other Stynes. Wouldn't he have opted for better eyesight? Was it simply because he was young, or had he not undergone the procedure yet?

Cyrus took a deep breath, "What's your name."

"Azura," I said, using my paternal aunt's name.

"Azura," Cyrus repeated.

They know I am descended from Hā·'ā·ḏām, which translates to Adam. If I can convince them that I am immortal, a descendant of Adam and Eve, it will buy me some time. However, if I reveal that I am a Cambion, I will lose my advantages.

"What are they like?" Cyrus asked.

"Who?" I replied.

"Adam and Eve?" he asked, fascinated.

I gave a bitter chuckle, "It has been so long, I do not remember."

Cyrus frowned at that, "How are you still alive."

"Again, I do not remember," I growled.

Cyrus stepped back, "So, were you Cain's wife or Ables?"

I glared at him.

Cyrus cursed under his breath and sighed, "Sorry, sensitive subject."

"You're not like them," I said. "Your body doesn't smell of multiple people."

Cyrus sighed, "No, I haven't gone under the knife."

I sighed, for he was young, "Listen. You need to go; it will not be safe here."

Cyrus stared at me, "Why do you say that?"

"My friend, his mind is not in a safe space," I explained. "If he finds this place destroyed and me in this state, he will not hesitate and kill you all. You're innocent, just born into the wrong family. Uncuff me and go."

Cyrus debated on that, "I…I can't."

"Yes, you can," I said. "Please…I don't want you to die."

Another gunshot went off, and I cried out, feeling the searing pain in my leg.

"Careful, her mother was tempted by a serpent," Eldon said.

I glared at Eldon, "You fools."

Eldon took out a handkerchief, rolling it up and gagging me. I tried to bite him, yet he punched me in the face, disorienting me. Securing the gag and tightening it.

"Why did you do that?" Cyrus asked.

"Because her sweet words were getting to you," Eldon said, helping his brother up. "Not that I can blame ya with how pretty she is."

Cyrus looked at me and then his brother.

"Come on, we got more books to find," Eldon said.

Cyrus only complied.

They continued their search for several hours, adding to the growing pile of rejected books. Cyrus picked up a thick black and red book and examined its cover. His interest was evident as he opened it to reveal that it was the *Practitioner's Guide to Exorcism.

"Cool," Cyrus murmured.

However, Roscoe made his way over, "Hey!"

Cyrus looked at him as Roscoe confiscated the book.

"This isn't a damn library," Roscoe said.

Cyrus stared at Roscoe and the room we were in, "Yeah, it is."

The teenager tried to take the book.

Roscoe stopped him in a playful manner, "No reading." Then got serious, "Box it or burn it."

He then went over to the pile, tossing the book.

"Come on," Cyrus protested. "Dude!"

Roscoe smacked Cyrus on the back of the head, then grabbed him by the shoulders, "I know this is your first rodeo, but man up, okay?" he then let go, "Now I'm going to check out their sex dungeon. You stay here and finish up."

Roscoe then left.

"Douche," Cyrus muttered.

He noticed something on the ground and picked it up. It was a photograph of the Winchesters with their surrogate father, Bobby Singer. They had displayed it on the shelf to honor Bobby, who had a library in his cabins and at his junkyard. Cyrus scoffed and then glanced at me.

Cyrus was about to say something when we heard footsteps; Eldon entered the library carrying a box.

"So, this is what I know about Dean Winchester…" Eldon said, setting the box on the table. He pulled out some vinyl. "He's got crappy taste in music…" tossing the vinyl on the ground, picking up a worn picture and showing it to Cyrus, "…got a hot mom…" he tossed the picture and pulled out several articles of clothing. "…and he loves flannel." Afterward, he threw the rest of Dean's property into the pile, then sighed. "All right. Let's light her up."

"Don't!" I tried to say through the gag.

Eldon ignored me, grabbing the gasoline tank.

"Eldon, wait," Cyrus stepped in, grabbing his hand. "We don't have to."

I heard another heartbeat and footsteps, followed by a distant stab. Either Dean or Sam was nearby. I took several deep breaths, bracing myself for what was about to happen. The two Stynes didn't seem to have sharp hearing, remaining unaware of who was approaching.

Eldon stared at Cyrus, "I know, Cy." He then removed the cap. "We get to."

Eldon then poured the gasoline onto the books, took out a matchbox, and lit a matchstick. Just as Eldon was about to toss the matchstick in, Roscoe appeared, stumbling in. He leaned against the wall, staring at the others, before collapsing, revealing a bowie knife deep in his back. Eldon and Cyrus were shocked.

Not a second later, Dean walked in, covered in blood. His demeanor had shifted; he was no longer just a grieving man but had transformed into a darker version of himself, teetering on the brink of becoming his own demon while still appearing human.

Eldon seemed amused and opened his arms in a gesture of praise. "Well, there he is."

Dean stepped into the library; his gaze fixed on Eldon. After a moment, he scanned the room with an emotionless expression until his eyes landed on me, lying on the ground, wounded and bound. Although he maintained a neutral face, I noticed his nostrils flaring slightly and his eyes dilating before he turned his attention to the Stynes.

"I hope you brought marshmallows," Eldon taunted.

"Been looking for you," Dean said.

"Oh, yeah?" Eldon replied. "Why's that?"

Dean glared at him.

"Oh, wait," Eldon murmured. "You're not still sore about, um…what's her name?"

"Charlie," Dean said. "Her name was Charlie."

Eldon looked at him amused, rubbing his thumb along his fingers before taking off his blazer, "Yeah, well…Chucky – she got what she deserved."

Dean remained quiet.

"Want to know how I did her?" Eldon asked, rolling his sleeve and revealing a slightly more feminine arm with a tattoo. A tattoo of burning skulls. "It's a kind of funny story."

"Shut up," Dean interrupted.

"Straight to it then? I respect that." Eldon said. "See, you got lucky before. This time, I'm sporting some new upgrades."

As he flaunted the arm, Charlie's arm.

"See, my old man – "

"Your old man's dead," Dean interrupted again, void of emotions.

The news shut Eldon up while Cyrus paled.

"They're all dead," Dean announced. "So, you can save me the speech on the, uh…three hearts, the two spleens, the seven nipples, for the ladies, or the fellas. I don't judge. But even with all that, you still have one brain."

"So?" Eldon challenged.

Dean did not hesitate as he pulled out his gun and shot Eldon in the head, between the eyes. Cyrus covered his ears, shocked, watching as his kin died. He then looked at Dean, afraid.

"Untie her," Dean ordered.

Cyrus nodded as he stumbled over Eldon's body to collect the key before crawling over to me and removing the sigil cuffs. I panted, feeling a bit of my strength return. Dean approached me, and Cyrus moved aside to give him space. Dean carefully removed the gag and checked my condition, his expression hardening at the sight of the blood all over me.

"Sigil bullets," I panted. "My strength is gone."

Dean scowled before standing up and aiming his gun at Cyrus.

"No, no, no, no!" Cyrus pleaded, standing up and using his hands as a shield. "Don't! Don't"

"Dean," I protested. "He's just a boy."'

"Why not?" Dean asked. "He's one of them."

"No. No, I'm not, okay? I hate my family," Cyrus disagreed, lifting his shirt and jacket to an unblemished torso. No sign of surgery on him. "See? Look. No stitches. I'm not like them, I promise."

He lowered his shirt.

Dean disagreed as he stepped closer, "Oh, you are like them. There's bad in you. It's in your blood. Now you can deny it, and you can run from it all you want, but that bad…will always win."

Cyrus hyperventilated.

"Dean, don't," I cried out, trying to stand only to fumble.

"I'll do anything you want, okay?" Cyrus offered, staring at the bodies of his kin and then back to Dean. "Please. You don't need to do this. Please."

Dean thought about it, lifting the gun up and scratching his head. "Yeah."

Cyrus breathed heavily in relief.

"I do," Dean added, shooting Cyrus in the face.

I scream in shock, watching the teenager fall to the ground dead.

"Dean!" I protested.

Dean turned around, facing me.

"What have you done?" I demanded, using the table to help me stand. You killed him."

"I took down a monster because that's what I do," Dean said, putting his gun away. "And I will continue to do that until…"

"Until you become the monster!" I yelled.

Dean glared at me.

"Dean, you are on the line; do not cross it," I said.

I felt another presence nearby—an angelic one. Castiel was here, and the moment had come. Despite my lack of strength, it was time to transfer the Mark. Creating the sigil bullets would weaken me enough for Castiel to stab me once the transfer was complete.

"I already have," he said as he made his way over to me.

I didn't know what he was going to do. Just as he was about to reach for me with his cursed arm, I seized the opportunity to grab it. My hand wrapped around the Mark of Cain. Summoning all my cambion abilities, I changed my form to warp reality and bypassed the ward's security. It hurt; I felt suffocated, but I pushed through, calling upon the Mark. Dean's veins illuminated red as the Mark was transferring.

"What are you doing?" Dean growled, trying to free his arm, but I held tight.

"What... I…should…have done," I seethed, squeezing tighter.

"Don't," Dean barked.

I cried out, feeling the pain as the Mark's tendrils reached my flesh, burning my blood.

"Vivian, let go!" He yelled.

"No…I can't," I cried, the tears burning. "This is my punishment."

It was agonizing torture, yet I held onto Dean to ensure the Mark was transferred to me. The female voice whispering in my head in Enochian, panicking, demanding to let go. I screamed, clutching tightly.

"Vivian!" Dean snapped and headbutted me.

That stunned me as a gush of blood came out of my nose. Dean took the opportunity to shove me with all his might, knocking me to the ground. He stumbled, creating distance and grabbing his arm. I panted, my vision hazy, as I stared at my right arm. My black markings were there, and my hand was covered in red markings that were trying to reach my forearm. However, the Mark was not there. As the red tendrils recede back to disappearing.

"No," I whispered.

All my energy was gone.

"Damn it, Viv," Dean yelled. "What were you thinking?"

"Saving…you," I mumbled.

Dean took several deep breaths, staring at me and the Mark on his arm. The transfer had failed. If I hadn't been injured and didn't have the sigil bullets embedded in me, along with the ward, I would have succeeded with ease. Yet, I hadn't. Dean sighed as he contemplated his next move.

"Dean!" Castiel entered, seeing the chaos all around. "What have you done?"

Dean just stared at Castiel as the angel approached me. He placed a hand on my shoulder over the wound to heal it. I cried out as the bullet was pulled out, and then the healing took over. It hurt because his angelic grace burned me. After that, Castiel placed his hand on my thigh, healing the wound and mending the flesh.

"You can leave now, Cass," Dean said, turning to leave.

"No, I can't," Castiel argued as he followed him. "Because I'm your friend."

Dean stopped in his tracks before facing Castiel, "Really? Well, let me ask you something – you screw over all your friends?"

Dean made his way over and stood in front of Castiel.

"Sam and I were trying to cure you," Castiel defended. "We still are."

"Like hell," Dean murmured.

"We can read the book now," Castiel said.

"Oh, so, what?" Dean asked sarcastically. "So, you might find a spell that might that his crap off my arm? Well, even if you do, what's it gonna cost? 'Cause magic like that does not come free. No, it comes with a price that you pay in blood. So, thanks, but I'm good."

Just as Dean was about to leave, Castiel grabbed his shoulder, walking around to face him. "No. You're not. Maybe you could fight the Mark for years, maybe centuries like Cain did, but you cannot fight it forever. And when you finally turn – and you will turn – Sam and everyone you know, everyone you love – they could be long dead. Everyone except me. "

Dean rolled his eyes.

"I'm the one who will have to watch you murder the world, so if there's even a small chance that we can save you, I won't let you walk out of this room." Castiel firmly said.

"The choice is yours, Dean," I said. "Transfer the mark to me…or the Book of the Damned."

Dean stared at me and then at Castiel, "Oh, you think you have a choice."

"I think the mark is changing you," Castiel said.

"You're wrong," Dean disagreed.

"Am I?" Castiel challenged, gesturing to the destroyed library. "Because the Dean Winchester I know, because the Dean Winchester I know would never have murdered that kid."

As we all stared at Cyrus's remains.

"Yeah, well…" Dean murmured, facing Castiel. "That Dean's always been kind of a dick."

He tried to leave again, but Castiel stopped him.

"Dean…" Castiel warned. "I don't want to have to hurt you."

Dean stared at him with an empty expression, "I don't think that's gonna be a problem."

Dean grabbed Castiel's arm and twisted it. A snap could be heard, realizing Dean had broken Castiel's arm. Before Castiel could respond, Dean punched the angel in the face. Castiel got up using his other hand to grab him, only Dean smacked him in the face again, drawing blood. Dean tried to throw more punches, yet Castiel managed to block them. Fearing for the angel, I got up and lung myself onto Dean, wrapping my arms around his neck, squeezing tight, trying to suffocate him.

The Mark flared, preventing me from killing him, as my body was ablaze from the inside. Dean flung me over, colliding into Castiel. I gasped, holding my side. Dean wrapped around us, trying to leave. Castiel stood up.

"Dean, stop," Castiel pleaded.

Dean stopped and turned to face us. He walked over and punched Castiel again. Castiel took the hit before wrapping his arms around Dean. I stumbled but managed to get up and wrap my arms around them, determined to help with the transfer again despite the challenges.

"Keep him still," I cried.

The searing pain returned as I tried to use all of my abilities to transfer the Mark onto me. Dean thrashed, trying to break free from the hold. However, Dean did a backward headbutt, stunning Castiel, as he lost his grip. Dean then shoved me so hard that I hit my head on the ground. I turned to the side, seeing Dean grabbing Castiel by his coat. Slamming him onto the table, basing his head repeatedly.

I musted all of my cambion ability, "Dean, stop!"

Dean grabbed Castiel, tossing him on the ground. He looked up, facing me.

"Stop!" I commanded.

At first, I thought my powers were working. Instead, Dean grabbed Castiel, turning him onto his back and grabbing the angel blade from his trench coat. Castiel, vulnerable, grabbed Dean's hand.

"No, Dean," Castiel gurgled. "Please."

Dean stared at the angel before raising the dagger and stabbing down. My eyes widened, yet the way angels die never happened. When Dean got up, the angel blade had pierced a book next to Castiel's head.

"You and Sam stay the hell away from me," Dean warned. "Next time, I won't miss."

He walked through and stopped to stare at me.

"Dean," I pleaded.

Dean looked at me for a moment, emotions stirring in his green eyes. Shaking his head, Dean left. I panted, reaching out but succumbing to my wounds.

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