Death by Life / Book Eight / The Life Series / Supernatural

Do You Believe In Miracles?

Castiel and Dean were still holding me back.

Sam had to help them.

Gadreel was slumped to the floor, bleeding angel grace everywhere.

I pulled free. 

Dean stood in my way. "Drop the blade, Ness."

"Move," I told him.

"Ness," Dean told me. "Look at me."

Castiel and Sam restrained me.

Dean tried to pry the blade from my hand. "Let it go. Let it go! Let it go."

  ~~~~~~~~  

The boys took me to the dungeon, standing in the way of the door.

"The hell if you think I'm riding the pine on this one, guys," I told them.

"Something is wrong with you, Ness," Dean told me. "And until we figure out what, this is where you have to stay."

"And you three are gonna do what?"  I asked. "Take on Metatron yourselves? That's smart. Oh, no, wait." I gestured to Castiel. "No, you--you lost your angel army." I gestured to Sam and Dean. "And now you're trying to lock up the one person who has a shot at killing the son of a bitch. Hell of a plan, boys." They turned around, walking out, pushing the doors closed, locking them. "Dean. Dean!"

  ~~~~~~~~  

I started to get sick, coughing horribly, vomiting slightly. I walked toward the small mirror in the cabinet. All I could see was my mouth covered in the blood. I breathed heavily in confusion.

  ~~~~~~~~  

The cabinet had enough ingredients for me to summon Crowley. I knelt at the floor in front of the spell.

Crowley appeared inside the devil's trap. "What's that smell?"

Crowley looked toward the corner.

"What the hell's happening to me, you son of a bitch?" I asked.

"Liquor before beer, bad taco?" Crowley asked sarcastically. "Pregnancy? How should I know?"

I glared at him. "I can't turn it off. Ever since I killed Abaddon, it's--it's like this whole... other thing. I get this high, and I--I--I need to kill. I mean, I really, really need to kill. And if I don't..."

"You yak your guts out," Crowley finished. "It's the mark."

"Meaning?" I asked.

"It wants you to kill," Crowley answered. "The more you kill, the better you feel. The less you kill, the less better you feel."

"How much less better?" I asked.

"One would imagine, the least-best better," Crowley answered.

"So, dead?" I asked. Crowley shrugged. "Well, Cain had the mark. He didn't die."

"Cain was a demon," Crowley replied. "Your body's not strong enough to contain the blade's power."

I looked down, hiding how I really felt. "What if I got rid of it?"

"You want to get rid of it?" Crowley asked. I looked up. "I thought what you wanted was Metatron. I thought that you wanted to be the heroine."

"This is not..." I trailed off, sighing, shaking my head. "If this is what it's like after I kill Abaddon, what will it be like if I kill Metatron?"