Dean Winchester sat at the table in the bunker, his fingers tapping anxiously as he and Y/N discussed their next hunt with Sam. The mark of Cain pulsed with dark energy, the anger and frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

Y/N leaned in, their voice filled with enthusiasm as they shared their ideas. “I think we should check out the old abandoned farmhouse on the outskirts of town. It’s been rumored to be haunted, and it might be our next case,” they suggested, a glint of excitement in their eyes.

Dean’s jaw clenched as he struggled to contain the dark influence of the mark. “Haunted? Really, Y/N? Are we back to chasing ghost stories now?” he spat out, his tone sharper than usual.

Y/N recoiled slightly, taken aback by Dean’s tone. “Dean, it’s just a lead. We should at least check it out before we dismiss it,” they replied, trying to reason with him.

But the mark of Cain egged Dean on, pushing him further into a spiral of anger and bitterness. “You always think you know best, don’t you, Y/N? Just because you read a few books doesn’t make you an expert hunter,” he scoffed, his words cutting like a knife.

Sam, sensing the tension in the air, intervened. “Dean, that’s enough. Y/N’s ideas are valid, and we should consider all possibilities,” he interjected, his voice firm and authoritative.

Dean’s gaze hardened, his anger bubbling to the surface. “Oh, come on, Sammy. Always taking Y/N’s side, aren’t you? Just like you always do,” he retorted, his tone laced with bitterness and resentment.

Y/N’s heart sank at Dean’s hurtful words, the pain evident in their eyes. “Dean, that’s not fair. We’re just trying to help. We’re on the same team,” they whispered, their voice tinged with disappointment.

Dean’s walls crumbled at the sight of Y/N’s hurt expression, regret flooding through him. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to... It’s the mark, it’s making me say things I don’t mean,” he confessed, his voice heavy with guilt.

Y/N looked at Dean, their gaze filled with understanding and softness