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DEAN HADN'T BEEN THE SAME since consuming the power of the Mark of Cain and everyone in the bunker seemed to notice except for him. You knew your brother to be brave, skilled, and although extremely irritating at times, kind. Yes he held a tortured soul—one that had gone through things no human being should ever have to go through—but which Winchester didn't? You all made sacrifices and you all had your problems, yet you always always struggled through them together. That's how you survived. Only this time, Dean remained adamant on keeping you and Sam out of his suffering. You held true to you're stubborn ways anyway, refusing to give up on your blood. You were determined, and no one, not even your boyfriend, Castiel, could stop you from intervening.
Your fists pounded against the opening of the bunker, your frustrated cries being ignored as the two boys inside began to argue. You could only hear so much through the thick steel of the door, but you were able to recognize the voices almost instantly. For a moment, you halted your frantic actions and lowered your panicked voice, in order to eavesdrop on the conversation. It started off slow—Castiel doing most of the talking, his words and concerned tone, causing your heart to twist in ways you've never felt before.
"I don't want to have to hurt you."
Castiel's threatening voice was muffled through the metal, however, it didn't take a psychic to know that things were escalating. With your heart-rate steadily increasing, you jiggle the handle again. It does nothing but deny you access, a curse word escaping your mouth as you kicked the door. "Let me in," you yell—as loud as your scratchy throat would allow—your tears already bubbling to the surface of your eyes.
"I don't think that's going to be a problem."
It was Dean who spoke next and the sheer anger that his voice possessed successfully sent a cold shiver down your back. Fear gripped your heart and the first of your tears began to spill over, gliding hastily down your cheeks. As the sound of the first punch was thrown, you could tell that Cas had been at the receiving end. You silently prayed that he would fight back, but you knew deep down that Castiel would never harm someone he loved. He loved Dean—yet he undoubtedly loved you more—so he kept enough strength in order to keep the door closed with his powers, making sure you were safe from Dean's wrath.
You stood there for what seemed like hours just listening to the room being ripped apart, your hand still gripped tightly around the door handle. Your sobs dove into silence and your breath collapsed into soft hiccups as you leaned against the door for support. It sounded like war—and war always ended with death.
Finally, the room seemed to simmer down, but you were quickly coming to the realization that the eerie quietness was way worse. You couldn't hear either of them anymore, instead your ears picking up the subtle sound of the lock clicking open. Wasting no more time, you bolted into the room and raced down the stairs, your damp orbs looking for Dean or Castiel in the sea of chaos. However, as you entered the map room, everything around you faded away, and all you could see was Dean hunched over Castiel's beaten body.
Your heart lurched, the tip of the angel blade glistening under the lights as Dean raised it above his head aiming it for the center of Castiel's chest. Without considering the consequences, you leapt forward, your body becoming Castiel's shield as you laid across him gently, your forearm placed above you to stop Dean's strike. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain, but when it never came, you looked up at Dean again with a sorrowful expression. He stares at you, his eyes softening and harding as he tries to calculate his next move.
From beneath you, Castiel grabs your shirt, as he attempts to pull you away. When you don't move, he tries to say your name, his only goal being to remove you from the danger. He gives a madden groan when nothing but blood leaks passed his lip, his body too weak to protect you. Desperate, he interlocks your hand with his, wanting to feel you, before giving Dean the hardest stare he could muster pass the peek of your shoulder. Without words, he warns Dean, "You hurt her and you're dead."
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you focus back on your brother. "Dean, please," you whimper, your heartbeat so loud that you could barely even hear your own voice.
Dean growls, his face seeping with rage. He tightens his grip around the angel blade, testing its weight in his palm. There's a second where you think he may actually go through with it, causing you to speak once more. "You kill him, you kill me." You can feel Castiel stir at your words, but you channel all of your strength, keeping the angel pinned beneath you.
Eventually, Dean makes his decision, slamming the knife down next to you before releasing his hold. You flinch, your eyes trailing the blade as it implies one of the books beside you. As he walks away, your attention is drawn to Castiel, your body turning so that you were now hovering above him. You gaze down at him, your vision swimming with tears, as you placed a dedicate hand on his swollen cheek. "I'm here," you whisper, "You're okay." His hand finds yours again, his thumb stroking your skin soothingly. You leave a gentle kiss on his forehead as he begins to lose consciousness. Once he passed out, you look over to your brother again.
Dean kept his back turned, but his threat was clear.
"Next time, I won't miss."
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