Fear and Self-Loathing in Missouri

Summary: Tag to First Born. HERE THERE BE SPOILERS! Basically a bit of inside Dean's head right at the end of the episode.

AN: I apologize for this one. It's a bitch. Oh btw there are a lot of swears, because there's a lot of feels. Forgive me, also, for any mistakes. It's late. I couldn't wait till tomorrow to write it.

*~.~*

He hates himself more than anyone hates him.

Of course he does. Look what he's done? He could've stopped all of this from happening. All of it. But he couldn't live without Sam, so he made him stop. He made Sam live, and now Sam hates him for it.

Of fucking course he hates himself.

And now there's the mark of Cain on his arm and he doesn't give a fuck what that means for him in the long run. He doesn't fucking care, because now he's gotta make things right. He's gotta fix things. For Sam, he has to fix everything, because as much as he hates himself, he can't handle Sam hating him.

Sam will hate that he did this, of course. He'll hate whatever this mark means, but that's okay, because he'd rather Sam hate what he did than to hate him. Sam didn't need to be wasting his time hating him, because Dean hated himself enough for the whole world, thank you very much.

Now, standing at the edge of the water, leaning back on the Impala as he looked out at nothing in particular, Dean had nothing else to think about except what that mark could mean for him. Even if he didn't wanna think about that. It didn't matter. But it was impossible to shut it off once he started.

Cain was turned into a demon. The most powerful one around, apparently. Even without the mark, he could vanquish demons with a mere touch. Though Crowley's fear had been a facade to make his little plan work, Dean knew that somewhere within the King of Hell there was some level of fear of Cain. So what did that mean for Dean?

All he'd cared about in the moment had been the necessary modification he would need in order to wield the only sword he could kill Abaddon with. Like a scope mount for a rifle. Like a hilt on a sword, really. He couldn't use the damn thing without it, and that's all he'd cared about initially, consequences be damned.

Perhaps that was the consequence, though. Damnation. Fucking newsflash, because he's pretty sure he was already, so no skin off his back. It's never mattered what good he'd done on this frigging planet. In the end, he always ended up in the pit, and God was done doing him any Heaven-favors a long time ago.

God. Seriously, what the hell? The more he learned about what really happened, what was a total contradiction to all those bullshit Bible stories, the more pissed off he became. Lucifer tricking people, that's old news. That's just predictable, and Dean Winchester could handle predictable. But God? To Dean, God didn't make any sense. There was no pattern. Well, sure there was now. Dude is friggin' awol. He left. Big fat surprise.

Back then, though? You wonder why all these angels are so friggin' screwed up in the head? This is what happens when you treat your kids that way. Punish them for mistakes they didn't even realize they were making. Punish them for loving you more than your orders. Then leave when shit doesn't go the way you wanted it to. Fucking great job, God. Let's crack open the good wine so we can congratulate you on a job fucking bloody well done.

All these angels...man, what they really need is some damn good counseling. Maybe a couple trillion Prozac to go with it. Or maybe just some whiskey. An endless supply of the good stuff and an exceptional bartender who will listen to their troubles and tell them it'll all be okay.

All of these angels. All of them are just like hurting little children. Powerful, dangerous, deadly children. But really they're all just angry and sad and alone and maybe the worst part of it all is that they forgot that they were supposed to love each other. If they could remember just that much, if they could do just that, maybe there wouldn't be all of the rest of it. It wouldn't matter that God had left.

It's too far gone, now. They're so far away from love, they don't even remember what it is anymore. All they know is hate. Revenge. Power. Daddy issues. They can be a powerful thing. But love? That's more powerful than anything.

Dean knows that. And he also knows that hate is the opposite. It drives him insane, just the thought. That Sam hates him. The only thing he's ever cared about really and truly in this world hates him, and it's eroding the very core of his being to know it, because he loves Sam so much that it makes him do the stupidest shit over and over again, and it's what keeps getting him into so much trouble. It's what led him here. But he really didn't care what stupid thing he had to do this time, as long as Sam didn't hate him in the end.

Because Dean hated himself enough for the whole world.

So what could this mark mean? He can wield the sword, that much he knew. Probable damnation, check. So what else? What could be the worst possible thing this mark could bring? What was the 'great cost' Cain was talking about?

What if...

What if it means...

What if it means that he's a monster? That the cost was his humanity?

What if it means that now...Dean is a demon?

The question bounces around against Dean's skull like a base drum to the beat of his now pounding heart.

There was one way to find out.

Dean pushed up off of the hood of the car and walked to the trunk, pulling his keys from his jacket pocket. Once he had it open, he grabbed for a flask of holy water. As he stood there holding it in his hand, a new question flooded into his mind like a dark, thick cloud.

What if you can't love a demon? What if there was nothing left for Sam to love?

~End

AN: Well that was fucking sunshine and rainbows all around.