"Dean, I don't want to have to hurt you." 'Because I love you.' I added on silently to myself. I kept my hand on Dean's shoulder, forcing the bloodied hunter to talk to me, and to look at me with his dulled green eyes. I kept telling myself that Dean was in pain and that Charlie's death was taking it's toll on him but I could only fool myself for so long. I always kidded myself until the last possible moment until it came crashing down around me. Like when I realized that Dean was slowly becoming my best friend, I denied it until I was forced to rebel. I denied loving Dean until I had literally died, only to be brought back staring into those jade orbs as they filled with relief moments later. Now I was denying the rage and disgust that was reflected back to me by my beloved righteous man.

"I don't think that's gonna be a problem." he muttered darkly before ripping my palm from his shoulder and twisting it until a sickening crack was heard.
"Dean." I said in a warning tone, but with no real bite behind it as I lifted my other hand to his other shoulder. He quickly back handed me and I could feel more blood dripping down my face. 'It's the mark' I told myself as I raised my hands in defense only to be kneed in the gut and thrown to the floor next to Dean's victims. I was slowly beginning the process of admitting the truth in my head as I realized that Dean probably thought I was the same kind of scum as the bodies I was laying next to. He turned around to leave but I knew I couldn't let him.

"Dean, stop." I pleaded watching as he slowly came back and threw another punch at my face. I tried to hold him down, but I failed and accepted the beating I deserved. How could I not deserve what I got? I thought as my face was repeatedly smashed into a near by desk. Dean had trusted me and I had once again betrayed him, thinking that this could be solved without him.

I was thrown to the ground, my angel blade slipped from it's hiding spot in my sleeve. He grabbed it and stared at the cold metal thought fully gripping my tie in his other hand. His gaze once again locked with mine and I knew this was the moment I admitted the truth. Dean Winchester hated me, and I was in love with him. I gripped his wrist in mine weakly clinging to whatever shred was left of our profound bond.

"No, Dean, please." I begged softly, searching his enraged stare for any sign of compassion. This was the end, I assumed as blood spilled from my mouth, it's iron taste stuck on my tongue. I wouldn't tell him about my feelings, I had done enough to Dean at this point and he didn't need anymore reasons to hate me. The blade came down at me and I saw the flicker of doubt in the mist of Dean's rage. It plunged into a near by book beside me, Dean was panting as he stood up. I glanced at the blade beside me so I wouldn't have to watch his retreating form.

"You and Sam stay the hell away from me," he said, his words hurting me more than any knife could."or next time I won't miss." I might as well have been stabbed, death as I recall hurts less than this misery.