Fallen

Chapter Thirty-Four

3rd Person P.O.V.
     A week passes. She keeps her distance from Dean. He still has bad and worse days from the mark. It only got worse after Dean found the First Blade. There are rarely any good days anymore.

     Cel finds herself crying herself to sleep now. It's become a normal thing. She knows she's losing Dean. That fact horrifies her.

     She's quickly become more reserved. Depressed. She hardly speaks. What's the point of speaking to anyone if the one person she wants, needs to talk to will barely look at her?

     Today, she sluggishly wanders out of her bedroom. She passes the library to head for the kitchen. Dean sits at a table in the library. The sight of him lifts her heart, only to turn around and crush it again. This person sitting in the library is not Dean. He merely wears his face.

     When she reaches the kitchen, she bumps into Sam. "Sorry," she mumbles. Then she continues her journey to the fridge.

     Sam finally decides he's had enough. He sets his plate down and meets her at the fridge. He whips her around and stares into her sulking eyes. "Cel, you need to snap out of it!" She says nothing. She simply looks up at the incredibly tall man. He shakes her shoulders. "Snap out of it! I need you right now, Cel. I'm already losing my brother, I can't lose you too!"

     Suddenly, the weight of the world bears down harder on her shoulders. She realizes how selfish she's been. She hadn't even considered how Sam must've been feeling through all this. His brother has become a borderline demon, and his best friend has almost completely shut down.

     Celeste collapses into Sam's arms and weeps. "I'm so sorry, Sam," she cries. "I'm so sorry."

     He holds her tight and strokes her hair. "It's okay," he whispers "Don't apologize, I understand."

     "It's been so hard. He's not the same," she says. "He's not my Dean anymore."

     Sam squeezes her tighter. She sobs for another few minutes before she's calm again. By now, Sam is swaying back and forth with her to soothe her.

     When she's completely stopped crying, Sam pulls away and rests his hands on her face. "It'll all be okay, alright? We'll figure it out." He tucks a piece of black hair behind her ear. "Alright?"

     She nods. "Thank you."

     Sam leans down and kisses her nose. She giggles. Then he straightens back up and looks into her eyes. Suddenly, the air becomes thick, and their smiles disappear.

     Before long, both of them are slowly leaning in. The space between them becomes less and less. Finally, their lips touch. Cel feels more comfortable now than she has since this whole mark thing started.

     Then she realizes what she's doing. She pulls away. "That shouldn't have happened," she says.

     Sam nods. "I-I know. I'm sorry."

     "So this is why you don't talk to me anymore?" A familiar voice says.

     Sam's and Cel's gazes snap to the entrance of the kitchen. Dean stands in the doorway clutching the First Blade. Sam and Cel quickly push each other away.

     "Dean, it was a mistake, it should have never happened," Sam explains.

     "Yeah, I'm sure," Dean sasses.

     Fear begins to course through Cel's veins. "Dean, h-he's right, it was just spur of the moment, it didn't mean anyth-"

     "Shut your mouth, bitch," he growls.

     The word summons tears to her eyes. The fear in her body grows. Normally, the word would anger her to the point of physical fighting, but these aren't normal circumstances. Dean slowly creeps toward the two of them.

     Sam cuts in. "Dean, just put the Blade down."

     Dean ignores him. He focuses only on Cel. "First you don't talk to me for a week, and then you go and make out with my pain-in-the-ass little brother? Really?"

     A droplet falls from her chin. "Dean, please. Please just put it down."

     Dean inches closer and closer to her. "Don't tell me what to do." She backs away until her back is against the wall.

     "Dean, stop," Sam says. He puts his hand on his brother's shoulder. Immediately, Dean rears back and punches Sam. He falls to the floor, disoriented. Dean turns back toward Cel and continues forward.

     "Dean you have to fight this!" She tries. "Baby, it's me!" He ignores her. "This isn't you! Listen to me! PLEASE!"

     A sharp pain pierces her stomach and pushes a gasp from her lips. She shifts her eyes to the space between she and Dean. The Blade protrudes from her abdomen. Dean's fingers are wrapped around the tattered handle.

     "Cel!" Sam belts.

     Cel looks back to Dean's eyes, and they're his eyes. The real Dean's beautiful green eyes. There's pain in them. There's worry and horror.

     "No," Dean says. "No no no no no!"

     She ignores the shooting pain in her stomach. She lifts her hands to cup Dean's face. He's back. He's here. She smiles. "Dean," she croaks. Blood spills from the corner of her mouth.

     "No no no NO!" Dean bellows through clenched teeth. Tears pour from his eyes.

     Celeste shakes her head. "Shhh, it's okay," she says. Her knees become weak, and she slowly sinks to the ground. Dean follows her down.

     "No no no, it's not okay, it's not, I have to fix this," he panics.

     Cel strokes his face in an attempt to calm him. "Dean, it's okay." She runs her fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and rests his hand on top of hers as he cries. "It wasn't you."

     Dean shakes his head. "I have to fix this."

     "You can't," she whispers. "Dean, it wasn't you." She doesn't care about the pain. She doesn't care about the blood. She only cares about her Dean.

     He grasps her hand and moves it to his lips. "No no, you can't... you can't go." He kisses her knuckles over and over again. "Don't leave me," he begs.

     Cel smiles. Her limbs become heavy. She has to strain to hold them up. But she doesn't care. She accepts what's happening. Even if Dean doesn't.

     Her breath shortens. "Don't... spill any... salt... while I'm gone," she breathes.

     Dean laughs, but his heart sinks. His tears fall faster. "Just hold on, Sweetheart, you have to hold on for me. We still have to get your grace back, remember? I promised you! Just hold on so I can keep that promise!"

     Celeste weakly lifts her arm to card her fingers through his hair once more. "Dean... it wasn't... you." Then her arm starts to fall as her ocean-colored eyes slowly close.

     "No!" Dean yells in denial. He puts his hands on both sides of her face. "No, you can't! Wake up, stay with me!"

     Her muscles start to relax. Her mind clears of all current thought. Memories flash through her mind. Memories of Sam and of Cas. Memories of Dean. She sees the moment they met. She sees the diner she broke the salt shaker in. She sees rides in the Impala where old rock songs and the smell of leather fills the air. She sees the hospital hallway where Dean first told her he loved her. She remembers every moment with Dean. Then her eyes completely shut as her head becomes limp.

     Dean rests his forehead against hers as he cries. "Come back," he begs. "Please come back." He grabs her hands and squeezes them. "You have to come back! You have to so I can keep my promise to you! I need to keep my promise," he sobs. "I need you here, Cel. I need you."