Just beyond the large cackling fire, Sam and Dean stand next to each other in mourning. They watch Charlie's body burn in the inferno, reminding and thinking of all she'd done for them.
"Charlie." Sam spoke up to cut the silence, "We're gonna miss you. You were the best. And I'm so sorry –"
"Shut up." Dean's emotionless face spoke up. He tried to hold it all in, together. If Sam wasn't family, he would've killed him for all he's done, "You got her killed, you don't get to apologize."
"We were trying to help you." Sam defended.
"I didn't need help. I told you to leave it alone." Dean reminded him.
"What was I supposed to do, just – watch you die?" Sam asked, upset Dean refused to see his side.
"The Mark isn't gonna kill me." Dean said, referring to his invincibility.
"Maybe not, but – when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore." Sam said, "Dean, you're all I've got. So of course, I was gonna fight for you because that's what we do. And listen, I had a shot—"
"Yeah, you had a shot." Dean finally turned to him, "Charlie's dead. And (Y/N), the girl who you practically threw me at to get close to even- even though you know how I feel about that? Told me it was good for me and - and I actually did for once, is missing. She's on every most wanted list, and the Stynes I'm sure are gunna use that against her, or they're going to find something that makes her go nuclear. So, yeah, nice shot."
"You think I'm – You think I'm ever – gonna forgive myself for this?" Sam said, tears welling up.
"You wanna know what I think?" Dean lashed out, "I think it should be you up there, not her. This thing, with Cass, and the book, ends now. Shut it down before somebody else gets hurt. You understand me?"
"And what about you?" Sam said after a long pause while he stared into the fire, digesting what has really happened.
"Oh, I'm gonna find whoever did this. And I'm gonna rip apart everything and everyone that they ever loved. And then I'm gonna tear out their heart." Dean assured Sam of his intentions to who ever hurt you and Charlie.
"Is that you talking or the Mark?" Sam asked, noticing the sudden violence.
"Does it matter?" Dean turns and has to walk away. Sam watched him leave, seeing the strong separation between them.
~
You woke up, in more pain than before. It was sigils, they were everywhere and you so strongly wanted to run away. Your hands and feet were strapped to a cold metal table and gagged with a rag tied around your mouth. You were completely conscious.
"So, as I understand, you didn't get the book, and you lost an arm, broke a spine and internal bleeding." You heard a southern man speak from down the hall, "Not what I call a win, son. And you know what we do to losers."
"Yes sir. That's why I brought you a present. Well, make it two," the mans voice from the motel room spoke, "I found a stash of magic like you wouldn't believe."
"Try me." The older man said.
"The Winchesters dragged me to their – clubhouse. It's filled with folklore, artifacts, maybe even the Book of the Damned. Now you give me a few guys, and I'll make the biggest score this family's ever seen." The man said, "And to sweeten the pot a bit: Eli and I caught you an Angel."
You looked back to see two men standing in the doorframe. The older man, who must be who they referred to as "Father" stood above you. You whimpered, unable to cover yourself or use any kind of power to get yourself out of this. The man above you grinned, so excited to begin his game of operation.
"You're gonna need a new arm."
~
"Cy!" You listened, struggling to get lose, to gain some of your power back as a young boy entered the room. "My boy! It's a special day."
"It is?" The boy looked over and see you strapped to the metal operating table with a gag in his mouth. He looked uncomfortable, which was a small comfort to you.
"You see, your brother Eli, had this little scuffle with this woman, and no not like that. For centuries, we avoided Angels. Kept our heads low to do what heaven thought was wrong." The older man monologued, "We never knew how to kill one. But now we have one here, in our home. Ready to go to work on. And I got so excited but then I thought to myself, this is a teachable moment."
The boy, with glasses and couldn't look older than 16, looks both revolted and scared, "I can't."
"Sure you can. It's easy." His father clapped his shoulder.
"No. It's not – I don't want to." The boy struggled under pressure as he looked at your needing eyes.
"What? Be like us?" Eli took offense.
"That's not what I meant." The boy said.
"Good. Because that – it's your legacy. You will not turn your back on this family. Now – you've always been soft, Cyrus, you're the baby, it's natural. But that ends now." Father held him so that he can't move while a lady put a white lab coat on him. "See, either you're gonna do this, or I'm gonna operate on this thing. And then I'm gonna put you up on the table, and go to work. You understand?"
With apologetic eyes he looks at you, you screamed knowing they weren't going to give you anesthetics. You weren't like the Angels. You weren't occupying some meat suit, this was you it was going to hurt. They never bothered to ask you questions. The boy sighed: "Okay."
Father picked up a scalpel and placed it in his hand. You struggled and whimpered against his restraints. The father guided Cy's hand over your exposed chest. The boy turned his head and tried not to look, but the father used his free hand to turn Cy's head and forced him to look.
"This is who you are, son." The father told his son over your screams. You couldn't see or hear anymore over the beat of your heart and the squeeze of your eyes. The sharp scalpel had cut into your chest.
They didn't get far before your body was reacting for you. Your veins began to glow, the pain was like a jumpstart on your power. You burned sigils off the wall, your restraints were disintegrated, and you flew the four of them to the walls.
~
Dean exits a motel room, on his cell phone. He's been on his own a day or two now, looking for you. He wouldn't rest until he found you. There was nothing that was going to stop him. Despite that you lied to him, he didn't realize that his feelings for you were so strong. He knew they were there but not this strong. He missed the way you made him feel, your smile, your eyes, the way you looked at him.
The idea of you in pain makes his skin crawl. But because of the way the Mark effected him, there was no telling if that crawl was in pain or pleasure. He just knew his morals and consciousness hated this. And he wanted to kill anyone who took you from him.
"Rudy. I just sent you some security cam footage of a black sedan. I need you to run the plates." Dean spoke into the phone.
"Yeah can do, just give me a sec here." Rudy, a fellow hunter who Dean thinks is much better behind a computer than in a field "Weird. Uh, the vehicle's registered to Eldon Styne out of Shreveport, Louisiana, but there's no street address. This guy got something to hide?"
"Yeah, big time. I'll fill you in later, thanks." Dean said, taking the information in stride.
"Yeah sure, but um, isn't that what Sam's for?" Rudy asked, he found it weird that the Dean Winchester called him in the first place.
"He's busy." Dean hung up and got into the Impala. He left Sam behind, he couldn't trust him. Sam orchestrated this, he got you taken and Charlie killed and that was that. Dean couldn't be around him for now. He had to go this alone, and not be held back anymore.