Astronaut3 : Shake it off (the mark of Cain)

Castiel followed his gaze, and his throat instantly tightened. "No. But I felt it. I felt you drifting away from me. I felt it when you tried to cut the thread." His hand was now ghosting over the burn mark, pain clear in his voice.

Dean observed Castiel's expression, apparently unaffected by it. "Tried is the keyword. It's pretty resilient, isn't it", he commented, too casually to sound genuine. "I thought I'd do both of us a favour... well, mostly myself seen as I almost lost my finger a few times, but apparently it can't be done. That's too bad."

Castiel remained silent for a few seconds. Then, he looked at Dean straight in the eye, in spite of the pain it caused him. "Why didn't you reach out to me, Dean? Why did you walk away?"

Dean snorted. "What would have changed if I had?", he asked. "This just weighs me down", he said, looking back to his hand, then to Castiel. His eyes flared black again. "You do. You can't give me what I want, so what's the point?" There was a small part of him, inside, yelling, screaming at him to stop talking. But it was still easy to ignore it.

Castiel frowned, both with pain and incomprehension. "What do you mean by that?" He had given Dean his everything, didn't he? He loved him more than anything in the world. Had given him part of his grace. Part of himself.

Dean shook his head. "We never even had sex", he observed. His eyes were back to normal once again. "You didn't let me before. You wouldn't let me fuck you now either, would you?" He chuckled. "Especially now that our priorities are a bit different."

Castiel was about to protest, but he remembered about that time, that one time when Dean already had the mark, and had tried to go much further than what they were used to. He was nervous, too eager even, driven by his recent contact with the first blade. It had scared Castiel, to the point he had stopped Dean, told him he'd rather wait for him to be fully himself once more.
He pressed his lips together, and closed his eyes for a few seconds. "My priority is to get you back, Dean."

Dean let out another chuckle, still shaking his head. "I told this once. I'll tell this to you too. You should wrap your head around the fact that it won't be possible to bring me back. Hell, maybe I don't want to. Or maybe this ritual is killing me as we speak." He tilted his head, looking at him. "I'm not willing to risk that."

"There is one thing I know for sure, Dean," Castiel replied, as he raised his hand to look at their thread. "This," he said, gesturing to the pale, almost translucent red line, "is coming back thanks to that ritual. So I'm willing to risk anything to get you back. Because I still love you, no matter what you did."

Dean glared at him, glancing over the thread with something akin to distaste. "Well. I hope you like being disappointed then", he said, lifting up his chin defiantly. "Have fun, trying to get me back."

Castiel didn't reply. He gulped his feelings down, and took a step back. Then he quickly exited the room to tell Sam he was done, and could give him his hourly injection. He didn't stay to watch him do it, though. He couldn't. He needed some time alone before he was ready to face Dean again.

Dean reacted more and more violently to each passing injection. He tried to hit Sam, to jerk away, to yell at him. Even to reason with him. "You are going to kill me, Sam", he rasped, breathing harsh. "This is killing me. I can feel it. Please, stop!"

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam whispered, as he was getting the next injection ready. "But I know for a fact that you are becoming human again." Yet, hearing his brother's cries of pain was breaking his heart. It didn't prevent him from trying to inject him one more shot of blood.

As a matter of fact, yes. Dean was becoming more and more human with each passing shot. Reason for which the pentagram and signed handcuffs weren't keeping him bound as strongly as before. He freed one of his legs and tried to kick Sam back as hard as he could.

Sam cursed and actually almost fell from that sudden blow. He bit his pain down, trying not to let the syringe fall to the ground.
Castiel was in the room for that last shot, though, so he did walk behind him and wrapped his arms around his torso, to try and keep him still.

"Let me go!" Dean snarled, tossing himself right and left to try and get free from Castiel's grasp. But, weakened from human blood - and more human than demon by now -, he was no match to the angel. Not even with his weakened grace. "Let go of me NOW, Castiel!"

"No," Castiel answered, his voice firm. He held him tight, so that Sam could give Dean his last shot of blood. "I'll never let you go. Never let you down." he whispered in Enochian in Dean's ear, hoping that their bond was still strong enough for him to understand his words.

Dean did understand those words. He did. But he was too busy screaming and yelling, trying to get away from the syringe, from Sam, from Castiel, Castiel- He started to feel tears streaming down his face, and he wasn't even sure when it happened, or why. He just wanted it to stop.

Sam took a step back to grab his holy water, ready to splash it on Dean's face so Castiel could have a chance of moving away... yet stopped himself when he saw the tears rolling down on Dean's face. Had he broken his brother for good? Or was he finally almost cured?
Castiel kept his arms wrapped around Dean that whole time, not letting him go, as promised. He just waited.

Dean took in deep, shaky breaths, tears still wetting his face. His hands trembled. His thread, now completely visible, waved gently as his fingers moved.
Yes. He was cured. But, as his soul got cleansed, all those past weeks hit him like a tons of bricks. All the things he had done. Said. He closed his eyes, trying to calm down.

Castiel could feel their bond being full once more. He took a deep breath himself, and hugged Dean a little tighter. "I love you," he whispered to him again. He did regret some things Dean had said and done, but right now, he was mostly relieved to have him back.

Dean managed to calm down more. But it was clear enough he was completely wrecked. Physically, emotionally, name it, he had it. He slumped back on the chair as if life itself had been sucked out of him.

Sam cleared his throat, moved himself by the fact that, well, Dean seemed to be human again. "I'll go grab some stuff to eat. You must be starving," he said Dean, as he walked out of the room, leaving them some privacy.
Castiel took his clue to let go of Dean, and faced him, to untie him slowly.

Dean kept his eyes fixed on the floor, and his head hung low. He didn't have the guts to face Castiel. The bare fact that the angel was helping him made his stomach turn upside down. If he had had the energy for it, he would have probably fled from the room right away.
He didn't speak. He was afraid of how his voice could have sounded.

"Dean," Castiel ended up whispering at some point, worry clear in his voice. He was trying to look at him, even had his fingers ghosting against the human's cheek.