The Mark of Cain and the loss of a loved one are a dangerous combination.

Sam would not—could not—for the life of him let go of the fact that Dean was stuck bearing this mark from Hell. He got them roped into the business of ‘The Stynes’ monster freaks who stole the limbs of corpses to improve themselves.

Multiple hearts, stronger arms, limbs that didn’t belong to them.

And when Charlie got entwined in Sam’s spiral, she paid the consequences. The Stynes killed her. And for fucks sakes that was Dean’s last straw.

Tirelessly Dean hunted down those bastards. They caught Dean first. But oh that was exactly what Dean wanted. He killed- no. Slaughtered every last one of them.

He stands in the library, skin stained with blood, eyes empty. The body of the final, and youngest Styne laid cold and dead on the floor. He slowly turns around when he hears you enter.

“I killed them.” He deigns to whisper, “I killed them all.” He says, his throat bobs, grip tightening on the silver burgundy slicked gun. The bloodlust lingering in his eyes.