The Sun, the Moon, The Truth

His breath comes in shallow puffs as he makes his way over to the same barn that seems to be a favorite for "memorable moment." Dean wasn't sure what it was about this certain place that sent chills down his spine, but whatever it was, it didn't serve to silent his nerves bubbling up in his stomach. It took him the whole entire day and close to the full night to decide whether or not he would take up the mans offer. Even when he seemed to have found a decision, he would quickly revert back to another one, not completely sure of which life altering resolution to choose from. In the end, it was only when he seen the way Cas looked when he was sleeping to make up his mind for good. The way the angel would softly smile, brilliant blue eyes shifting back and forth underneath his eyelids was enough to make him realize why he wanted to save himself in the first place. It was all because of the one person, besides his own brother, that actually put his faith into him without a seconds hesitation.  His father didn't even trust him up until they day he took his last breath and hit the dirt. If Cas believed in him then he had to take the extra leap and believe in himself for once. At this point, that was all he had.

With a deep breath, he walked inside the barn, rubbing his hands together as a small breeze caresses his slender cheek. That was one of the things Dean would miss the most in this world. The simplicity of everything before the hunting, the monsters and the pain. When it was him and his brother against his father. He would give anything to rewind time and go back to when he was small and he still had a pinch of innocence inside his small mind. Yet Dean was never one to get what he wanted so he ended up settling with the inevitable. After all, he was going to die sooner or later. Leaving this world when the two people he loved most were safe was all he had ever wanted. 

His eyes scanned around the room, lingering at certain crevices of the barn, taking a chance to really absorb his surroundings. There was what looked like a devils trap in the middle but circled around it was a veil of angel fire, ready to be lit up at any second. At each point of the star, there was stationed black candles, glinting off of a light source that Dean didn't notice until now. The barn itself was pitch black except for a lone light hanging from above, swaying with the breeze from the door being opened. Yet, suddenly, the doors slam shut and the light is extinguished making him draw out his knife he brought just in case this proved to be a shame of some sort. Small laughs were heard from behind him and he turned around to see the same man standing with a strange kind of blade in his hand.

"Dean Winchester scared by a little bit of wind? Now that is a sight to see."

He rolls his eyes and takes a seat on a bundle of hay situated against the wall of the barn.

"Are we really going to do this whole thing again where you talk to me and I pretend like I care? Because I think we should just cut through all the bullshit and get right to it."

The man raises his eyebrows up and purses his lips, shifting his feet back and forth.

"So eager to die Dean?"

He shrugs his shoulders and muses with a coin he fishes out of his pocket, flipping it up into the air a few times.

He tilts his head to the side and silently shaking it, a ghost of a smile creeping up his face.

"No.No. I know exactly why you want to get into this so quickly. You are afraid that someone is going to stop you. That someone is going to bust through the door, any minute and convince you to change your mind. You may think that since I am a monster I don't comprehend emotions but creatures like me can sense feelings. You, my friend, are afraid, You are practically bathing in it so much that you reek. Honestly I would have hoped you would be a bit more considerate seeing that I am helping you with your little problem here."

"Killing me is not solving my problems. It's just making sure that I don't cause any more problems or pain than I already have. But you wouldn't understand that sort of thing because I can see right through you. You put up this whole facade making it seem like you are human and you want to save people but you are just a monster. Like every other freak put into this world. I know you aren't just doing this out of the kindness of your own heart because things like that are rare these days. You are doing this because, deep down, you are just as afraid at me as I am."

"Very poetic Dean Winchester. But I wouldn't be pointing the finger at me when in reality, nobody has ever died because of me. Please tell me how many people have died in your name? How many have risked their lives for you just so that you can have a couple extra years added to your baggage? I may be a monster Dean, but I make sure the acts I do are far from the typical stereotype people like you place on me. You are absolutely correct when indicating that I am only doing this because I fear you. Anyone in their right mind who knows who you are and what you done would be on my side. But, Dean, I am not a heartless person and I have seen my kind...fairly close friends of mine that have gone down the same path as you. Some I managed to save. Others.....well let's just say that by the time I finally looked into their eyes, there was no trace of the person I loved the most. That sparkle in their eyes or the little smirk that would light up the room vanishes and all because he let darkness take him over. I...I don't want that to ever happen again. To anyone. Even you Dean Winchester."

He looked down, rubbing at his already tired eyes, getting heavier with each word flowing out of his mouth. He could feel something boiling up inside of him and the Mark was burning with a passion on his arm, making him groan out in pain. It had been like this before but not as intense as this and his vision started to blur in front of him. The Mark, for whatever reason, was yearning to kill and Dean knew that he wouldn't last much longer if he kept this small talk going. Killing Cain subdued the Marks craving for blood for a few months more than he anticipated. Now the effects of it is wearing off, words popping into his head as natural as breathing.

'Kill him' 'He's going to kill you' 'We need this' 'Do it' 'DO IT'

He clenched his fist tightly to stop it from shaking violently in front of him. Hands were put on either side of him and he lead to the center of the devils trap. He sunk down to his knees while candles are lite all around him in a whirlwind of color.

"Do you know why this is happening Dean?"

The man held up a certain black powder in his hand and began to toss it into the trap, mumbling a few words underneath his breath.

"I...I haven't killed anyone in a while and the....Mark doesn't quite like that idea."

He shakes his head defiantly, picking up what looked like salt and dusting it around the outlines of the circle, mixing it with a bit of the angel oil. Then he mumbled another word in a foreign language he never heard before and returned to the center of the barn.

"That is only one of the reasons why you feel that way. Think about it Dean. Think about it hard. Why would I have you do the ritual today of all days? Why would I have to do it in this barn?" He gestures around at the barn like it was the simplest question he ever asked. Dean was never good at solving problems in the first place so he just shrugged his shoulders, and busies himself with the Mark of Cain.

The man places his hand against his head and rubs at his forehead. Sighing, he goes into the trap and grabs Deans arm so that the Mark was on clear display. 

"The Mark, prior to you killing Cain, was at its lowest potential because you always had one small thing in the way of making it powerful. Cain was still alive. The previous owner of the Mark was causing conflict. making the mark lack the right amount of strength to truly make you "whole", in a sense. The night you killed Cain, it released whatever holds you had on your humanity and it died with him. The only reason why you maintained that sense of being who you are was because of your brother and that angel of yours. They kept you rooted down just so much that you clung to whatever small ounce of life you had. This barn has the symbolic power needed to fulfill the ritual."

Without warning, he grabbed his face in his hands and tilted his head up so he could see the sky.

"Now today might not seem like anything special to you because it really is like any other day. Except for one minor detail. The full moon is out tonight. I'm not sure you know this, Dean, but the moon is considered a sacred deity that many different cultures and religions worship.  It symbolizes peace, purity and it maintains balance among the tides of this world. Not only that but it is extremely powerful and is crucial in the completion of this ritual."

"Why.."

"Don't I do this on another month? Another year? Because Dean, the moment you stepped through those doors when I first met you, I knew you were already gone. Best not make it any worse than it already was."

Dean groans in pain as the Marks heat spreads up his arm and to his shoulder, something that it never did before. He was learning a whole slew of things he didn't know this godforsaken Mark could do. Let's just hope that this was as far as it went.

"We must continue with the ritual before the Mark takes you over." He gathers a book marked with more strange symbols and opened it on the pew in front of him.

"What," He grips the mark as more pain courses through his body and falls to the ground, using his hands to catch the fall. "What is going to happen to me?"

"Dean I don't think..."

"Tell me goddammit. I deserve to know."

"I am uniting the moons powers with the powers of the Mark, essentially erasing whatever ties it has to you."

"That doesn't sound that bad."

"You aren't getting it Dean. The Mark of Cain gets life by you taking it from others. You are practically eating their soul while the Mark eats away at your own soul. What I am trying to say is that, yes the Mark will be gone from your body but there isn't going to be much of you left. Your soul is broken in ways that nobody, not even I can fix. The Mark, Dean, it was keeping you alive. Without it, you're dead."

Dean shrugged his shoulders again and gets back up to his feet, brushing off any hay that clung too desperately to his clothing.

"I guess I suspected as much. I just....I don't know. I guess I thought that maybe, by some miracle, I would live to see another day."

"If there was any other way, I would have told you but this is the extent of my knowledge. Dean, I'm sorry but we must continue or the ritual is not going to work. Are you sure you still want to continue?"

Dean thinks about Cas. Thinks about the way he lights up when he smiles. He thinks about the way he throws his head back and laughs at the small jokes he tells him when he is feeling down. The way Dean looks at Cas and Cas at him, where he felt like he could get lost in those blue eyes for days. It was the type of thing he thought he would never get to experience again. Love. Its strange how one person could leave a mold on your life, like a handprint on a long forgotten block of concrete. He lifts up the side of his shirt where the handprint was residing, seeming to glow with same kind of passion as the Mark was. He places a hand onto of it and smiles, a tear falling down his cheek as the memory of Cas fades away. 

"I love you Cas. Not a day goes by without that being the first thing on my mind and the last thought in my head before I fall asleep.  One day you'll understand the decision I'm making but I know today is not that day. I hope you'll still remember me. The hunter without a heart because of an angel that stole it from him."

He wipes away his tears and stares at the man holding the book he had seen earlier. 

"I'm ready."

He nods his head, opening up the book, and began the ritual.