Star Fall / Book One (SPN Fan Fiction)

Chapter Forty-Six

Dean bursts through the entrance of the bunker, leaving the door to crash hard behind him. Clamping down on the internal explosion shredding away at his core. Sam catches it just before it's closure to watch him hurtle down the stairs in duress.

"Dean.." He calls, only to be neglected as his brother reaches the last step. Hastily vanishing through the hallway. He rushes into his room, slamming the door with such force it creaks off its hinges. Ever since he's resurfaced, The Mark's been restored with a vastly acid retaliation. Unhinged in all its immersive cannibalistic hatred with the time away from its heroic vessel. Therefore burning hotter, stronger than its abnormal degree. And with the permanent absence of Kyiah's illustriously curative magick, it's infliction is more piqued than ever before. Dean zigzags off wall to wall, huffing as he breaks down into a spiral. Unable to conceal the flood of his broken heart, his fists clench. Roaring as he swings at the beside desk, clearing everything on its surface. Tearing through object after object, shelf after shelf in a rage, destroying anything he could get too until he was left standing in the absolute carnage. Glass shattered, wood split, a hole in the wall. Complete wreckage. Coming down from The Mark's mournful temperament through the watering haze. He slowly sinks against the end of the bed, leaning his head on the footboard as whats left of his chest, finally snaps. Bringing him into a ruthless sob.

Castiel lingers in the foyer, angled toward the hall. Listening to the barrage of crashing before turning to Sam. Sitting catatonically at a table in the study, staring into the floor, cheeks glistening. Riddled with bloodied marks and slashes through his worn layers. A void of nullity in his expressionless face. Cas set both hands over the top of a chair at the mapped table.

"Is he gonna be okay?" He checks, brow crinkled in a fretful affinity.

"I don't know.." Sam sniffles, wiping his hand under his noble nose. His lengthy caramel hair framing around his lowered face. The angel registers the woeful sorrow of his befriend mortal, peering down at him.

"Will you?"

"I don't know.." He repeats through clenched vocals, feeling another round of tears. Cas gives them both a solemn moment, before regretfully straightening up.

"Sam.." He lifts his gaze to the angel. His pitch, shifting his expression from numbness, to one of suspicion. The grave look in his crystal eyes prompt Sam to rove his stern complexion. Taking a nervous gulp.

"You didn't..." He whispers mournfully. The angel simply remains silent. Enforcing Sam to his feet. "Cas, what the hell did you do?" Castiel glances over his shoulder to the hallway before edging himself to Sam. Giving a low exhale.

"Kyiah is alive..." Sam's heart physically stops, taking in a trembling breath.

"What.."

"I had to ensure the final part of the plan would be fulfilled." Cas explains, watching him turn. Rubbing his hands across his doused face to sooth the thrashing in his temples.

"No, no, no, no.."

"The Underworld needs her, Sam. She needs to be on her throne." He speedily whips around.

"WE NEED HER!"

"Her people, need her." Castiel boldly corrects. He sighs in unleveled betrayal.

"Why are you doing this..." Sam pleas. "You are willingly, killing us..." He emphasizes his raw emotion, seeing the angel's unrepented expression. "If Kai is still alive, Dean needs to know. And we need to bring her home."

"He CAN'T know." Cas rejects. Earning a displeased scoff. "If Dean finds out she is alive, it will ruin all of our planning." That second to last word triggers Sam into a spiral.