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Once everyone who needs to be dead and gone is dead and gone, Dean is still angry. Scary angry. Outrageously angry. Surprisingly angry. Deliciously angry. Everything and anything sets him off. The mundane, “That pot doesn’t go there, Sam! What’s wrong with you?” to the old and buried, “What was so great about Stanford anyway? Why didn’t you want to stay with me, you bastard!” Fist-sized holes appear in the walls, doors fly off their hinges, coffee mugs shatter. Sam isn’t so much afraid of Dean hurting him, he’s not sure it’ll come to that, but he is afraid of Dean hurting himself. He can see the red build in Dean’s eyes. It reminds Sam of demon blood, of Lucifer, and he knows he needs to stop it. Or at least help Dean manage it. And that’s when he calls Cas. He shows up quickly, the next day even, but Sam’s not surprised by Cas’s haste.
“I was actually already heading this way, Sam. I haven’t seen you since….well, I wanted to see how Dean was doing. He’s not returning my calls.”
“As soon as he dropped the blade on the last demon in the fight, I thought maybe it was over. He was okay. But now, I’m not sure what to do.”
Dean passes through the great room on his way to the kitchen and stops dead in his tracks.
“Cas? Cas! Man, it’s good to see you!” He scoops Cas up in a huge hug. When he sets him down his hands still linger on Cas’s lapels, “How’re all your little angel ducklings doing? Back up in the big cloud?”
“Yes. Well, some have chosen to remain on earth for now but yes. They’re fine. How are you, Dean?”
Dean takes a step back, “I’m fine, buddy, I’m fine. Hey, you hungry? I know you don’t eat, blah blah blah, but you can at least sit there and stare while me and Sam eat, huh?”
Cas nods solemnly and follows Dean and Sam into the kitchen where Dean keeps up a running commentary while he makes sandwiches. They talked briefly with Cas when both sides of this strange battle finished but it was only long enough to know he was alright and Heaven was open again. Then he had to flit off to help restore order. Again. But now Dean makes up for lost time and tells Cas everything he didn’t already know about the battle with Abaddon and Crowley and a lot of things he did know. Dean finally takes a break long enough to swallow.
“Hey, are you okay, Cas? You look tired.”
“I’m fine.” Dean squints at him. “Okay, I’m not fine. This grace, it’s wearing on me. I’m not really sure what to do with it. I’m fine though.”
“Yeah, you sound peachy.”
After a lot of cajoling and bribing Sam and Dean get Cas to agree to spend a few days at the bunker. The days are mostly filled with Dean trying to take care of Cas and Cas trying to take care of Dean and Sam flitting in between, not sure what to do. Dean’s joy at seeing Cas kept him calm the first day but soon the rage rears its head again and Cas sees the severity of the situation.
“He promised Cain he’d come back and kill him. Honestly, I think he’s putting it off because once he does that, he’ll really be stuck with that thing.”
“It’s possible it will disappear when Cain is dead. Or perhaps Cain knows of a way.”
“Maybe.”
“And if not, I may have an idea. It may not work but if there is no other option then I have to try.”
“What idea?”
“I think I found a spell that will remove it. But it’s very old, very powerful, but frankly I’m not sure it will work on something even more old and powerful. Either way, I think you and Dean need to leave for Cain’s soon. Tomorrow morning even. You’ll let me know if Cain has an idea and if not, when he’s dead, I’ll complete the spell.”
Dean’s voice rings out from the hallway, “Guess who’s coming over?”
Sam and Cas walk out to meet Dean in the hallway. Dean has a huge grin on his face and seems to be waiting for someone to actually guess.
Sam sighs, “Dean, did you call Charlie? I told you, maybe we should wait, just a little while for you, I mean both of us, to rest up.”
Dean’s face changes in an instant, “Fuck you, Sam. I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong. Charlie’s coming over and staying for a while. You really got a problem with that?”
When Sam just looks at him, Dean storms off into the kitchen where Sam can hear the mugs he’d just washed that morning get thrown to the ground.
“I’ll talk to him,” Cas strides off and Sam prays to someone that Cas has more success than Sam had been having.
Needless to say, Cas’s talk with Dean does not go well. Sam finally intervenes when he hears Cas crash into the table. He walked in to find Dean completely enraged and Cas calmly telling him over and over that he wouldn’t fight Dean. Together, they talked Dean down enough to get him into his own room.
The next day, Charlie shows up, bright and early and full of caffeine.
“Who’s ready for season four?” she asks with a wide grin.
Dean laughs, scoops her up, and swings her around. The day passes quietly, with Charlie and Dean holed up in Sam’s room using his TV to watch Joffrey kick the bucket while Sam and Cas conspired in the library. Cas explains the spell, they double check all the ingredients, and agree that Charlie or no, Sam and Dean have to leave for Cain soon. Dean doesn’t take the news well over dinner that night.
“No.”
“Dean, we really need to talk to him, move on this thing. He might know how to help.”
“I told you, I’m fine. We’re not leaving while Charlie’s here. It’s not happening.”
“It’s happening, Dean. Charlie will stay here with Cas, hell, she might even be able to help. But she’ll be fine. You and I are leaving in the morning.”
Sam can see everything bubbling over in Dean. Frustration. Relief. Uncertainty. Desperation. Rage. Fear. Rationally, Sam knew that Dean was afraid of what came next, of the possibility that this was it, that there was no cure.
“No.”
“You promised him, Dean. Think of that at least.”
“No!” Dean stands up and grabs his chair, throwing it to the back wall, “No, Sam! We’re not doing it! Fuck Cain! Fuck the promise! That bastard can rot with his fucking beehives for all I care!” Nothing around him is safe. The dinner plates are first, then the books scattered around the room, then the table finds its way to its side. Cas calmly watches Dean and turns to Sam.
“Take her out of the room. Now.”
Sam grabs Charlie, who stood in tears, watching her best friend self-destruct, and rushes her out of the room. He takes her to the room Dean had dubbed “Charlie’s Cave” in better days and stays for a while, holding her as she cried. Sam had explained the Mark and what it meant earlier but now seeing it in action, what it was turning Dean into was a lot for anyone to take in. Sam leaves her, ear buds firmly in place, and goes to see how bad it was. He peeks into the kitchen, surprised by the silence, only to find Cas kneeling over Dean who lays unconscious.
“Shit, Cas. What happened?”
“It was me. I put him to sleep. It was too much. His body is not meant to hold this in, Sam.”
They carry Dean to his room and soon Charlie finds her way in. Sam tries to get her to leave, wary of Dean waking up still in anger, but she’s resolute and sits on the bed next to him, copy of The Hobbit in hand. Cas pulls the desk chair over and sits with a hand on Dean’s forehead. Sam leaves the trio to pack up the Impala for their trip. There was no question that they had to leave but would Dean actually let them?
Early the next morning, Sam wanders into the kitchen to find Cas making coffee for Charlie and Dean, who sit at the table, looking alive but less than perky.
“So,” Dean starts, “you and me. We’re, uh, heading out?”
“Yeah,” Sam braces himself for the fight that would follow.
“Okay.”
Sam looks at Cas in surprise but Cas only shrugs.
“I know I’m fucked up, okay Sam? I know. So let’s just go before I change my mind.”
After a hushed breakfast, they pack up the car and leave. Sam and Cas went over the plan again while Dean hugged Charlie and just like that they were on the road.
It takes a couple days to get there and magically Dean never once says anything about turning around. When they’re an hour away from Cain’s house, Sam sends Cas a text. When they arrive, it’s a little anticlimactic for Sam. He doesn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t a nice little house in the middle of the country, the buzzing bees a pleasant white noise. The whole thing is anticlimactic, really. Cain and Dean shoot the shit for a while. Sam finally asks if Cain knows how to get rid of the Mark and of course he doesn’t. Then after having one last beer, they all go out back where Cain had already built his own pyre, and Dean finishes it. No blinding light, no rushing black smoke. Just another dead body. He grabs Dean’s arm and shoves his sleeve up, disregarding his protests. The Mark is still there, shining pink in the glow of the kill.
“What the hell, man?”
“Cas thought it might go away when he died.”
“Yeah, well, it didn’t.”
Sam pulls out his phone and texts Cas again.
cain dead. mark still there.
Sam turns back to Dean who was dragged Cain’s body over to the pyre. Sam helps him get the man on top and they stand for a moment, Sam quiet to let Dean have whatever thoughts he’s having in peace. Dean doubles over, clutching his arm in pain.
“Dean!”
Dean falls to the ground, breathless with pain, not making a sound. Sam keeps calling his name, with hands laid on Dean’s back, trying to give any comfort he can. Dean takes in a huge breath and looks up at Sam.
“Oh my God. Sammy?”
“I’m here, man. What the hell was that?”
Dean shakes his head and continues to gulp in air. Sam suddenly grabs Dean’s arm again and rolls up the sleeve.
“Oh my God. I guess Cas was right, huh Sammy? Killing Cain did the trick, just needed to give it some time.”
Sam pulls out his phone and calls Cas. No answer. He tries again. No answer. He sends off a couple texts in quick succession, trying to get any answer. He calls again.
“Sam?”
“Charlie? What happened? Where’s Cas?”
Dean looks at him, “Charlie? Cas? What the hell is going on?”
“Uh, Cas is kinda…out of it?”
“Are you asking me or telling me, Charlie?”
Sam can hear the large breath she takes in. “Telling you. He got your text, told me to avert my eyes, then there was a bright light. I couldn’t stand to look at it, Sam. What the frack? Then it stopped and he was lying on the ground.”
“Oh geez. I think I know what that was. Charlie, is he breathing?”
“Breathing?! What the hell is going on, Sammy?”
“Um, yes? I mean, yes. He is.”
“Okay, Charlie that’s good. Do you think you can get him to his room?”
“Yeah, yeah, I can do that.”
“Okay, just watch over him. We’ll be home soon, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Wait, Sam! Dean, is he okay?”
“Yeah, he is.”
Sam hangs up and Dean jumps all over him but Sam stops him.
“Dean, Cas found a spell to help you. To get rid of that damn thing. I texted him when killing Cain didn’t do anything and he finished the spell. That’s what did it. He’s breathing, he’s fine. Charlie’s taking care of him. I don’t know anything else.”
Dean’s eyes fill with tears and his breathing grows ragged again. The sobs start and don’t let up for a long time. Sam tries to say comforting things at first but they weren’t helping and so he just holds him. Sam thought that the tears were for Cas but now he sees all the tension Dean had been holding in seep out. All the anger, frustration, rage, and fear the Mark put in him was leaking out in these long overdue tears.
When Dean stops crying, he’s silent and drawn. Sam tucks him away, under a tree while he goes and lights the pyre. They sit together and watch Cain hopefully find some rest. Even with Heaven open now, Sam doesn’t know where a man like that would end up.
Sam wants to just find a motel close by and let Dean rest but Dean insists they at least start heading home. So Sam drives until dark falls then finds a motel and lets Dean fall onto the first bed, boneless. When he returns with burgers later, Dean doesn’t even stir. Dean is much more lively the next day, driving like a bat out of hell. He still holds his body stiffly, knuckles white on the steering wheel but this is a wholly human tension, not like before. When they are a few hours from home, Charlie calls to say Cas is awake. He’s a little dazed but fine and no, Dean you can’t talk to him, he’s in the shower. Dean wants to call back when Charlie hangs up on him but Sam changes the radio to some New Age bullshit just to annoy him and he gets the message. And if Sam doesn’t mention it when Dean starts driving even faster, well that’s just fine.
When they get home, Dean bursts through the door and Sam thinks he must expect to see flames, destruction, clowns, something to show whatever Cas did that was so powerful it knocked him out. But instead they find Cas wrapped up in Sam’s old hoodie, hunched over a bowl of cereal and Charlie humming along to the radio washing dishes.
The brothers take in the scene for a moment and then Cas breaks the silence.
“Hello.”
“Hello? That’s all you got? Hello?”
“What Dean means, Cas, is how are you?”
“Fuck no, I don’t. I can see how he is. I wanna know what that fuck happened? You gotta secret spell up your sleeve this whole time and you don’t tell me? And it almost kills you? What the fuck, man?”
“I’m sorry, Dean. I wasn’t sure it would work. I didn’t want to get your hopes up. And you didn’t exactly seem open to suggestions at the time.”
Dean takes a deep breath and drops his duffle. He sits down next to Cas at the table and steals a cornflake out of the bowl. “No, I guess I wasn’t. So why don’t you tell me now?”
Cas explains the spell’s origins in great detail to his cereal, the various ingredients and where he found them, the incantation he had to translate three times, swiping some of Dean’s blood from the wall the last time he punched it in anger. Then he finally gets to the part Dean actually cares about. The mother of all ingredients, the reason Charlie had to shield her eyes.
“Your grace? You used your grace for this?”
Cas nods, “To be exact, it was stolen grace. Not really mine.”
“Cas,” Dean trails off, not sure what to say. Cas just keeps staring down his breakfast.
“Hey Charlie, can you help me unload the car?” and with that Dean is left alone with Cas, still unsure what to say.
“Cas,” he tries again, “Why did you do this? We would have found another way. I know being human isn’t what you want. Is isn’t fair to you.”
“What I want is for you to be healthy,” Cas finally looks up and into Dean’s eyes, “What I want is for your soul to be as pure as it was when I held it in my hands all those years ago. I got what I wanted. Yes, being…human will take some getting used to but I chose this. That makes it fair in my eyes.”
“My soul’s never been pure, Cas. I don’t get why you’re wasting your time on me. All these years, all these times you’ve saved me. I don’t get it.”
“Then I’ll keep waiting until you do, Dean. I have time now.”
Dean’s eyes fill with tears and Cas reaches over and takes his hand. Dean does gets it, part of it anyway. He knows why Cas saves him but believing he’s worthy of it, that’ll take time. But this right here, holding hands with his own personal guardian angel, it’s enough for now.