You supposed what the three of you were doing could be called rest and recovery. At least that's what it seemed like. After retrieving the book, your trio had made it back to the bunker, where both you and Sam had collapsed from exhaustion, soreness, and blood loss. That had been two days ago, and while you were feeling much better, you still lazed about in bed, or the library, never moving far, or saying much. It wasn't because you wanted to be silent, but you needed to observe, because things had gotten a little awkward between the brothers.

Sam had bounced back quickly from his ordeal, drinking orange juice and running seemed to renew his strength quickly. He left the bunker the next day, not returning until late at night. The next morning, you ran into him just as he was planning on leaving again. You had just gotten up, and you knew you looked a fright. Your hair was sticking up everywhere, with just one of Dean's t-shirts hanging almost to your knees your only clothing.

"Morning Y/N!" He chirped at you, and you just stared at him, your eyes almost blank in your foggy state.

"Morning." You mumbled, wanting the coffee you knew was awaiting you in the kitchen.

His smile faltered for a moment, and he stepped closer to you, glancing around the room to make sure you were alone. "Y/N, I've got to go. I have a plan, but I can't work on it here."

That immediately woke you up, and you stopped dead in your tracks. "Wait, a plan? Are you going to talk to Rowena again?" You whispered, your purpose of getting coffee completely forgotten.

He nodded. "Yeah, she's the only lead we have. Her and that book. But don't worry, there's not going to be a way for her to double cross me." He said smugly.

"Sam, she''s a witch!" You argued, your voice climbing at the end, and he shushed you. 

"Y/N, don't you think I know that? But it's a shot worth taking, and I'm careful."

"Give me five minutes. I'll come with, and help you keep an eye on her." You begged, but Sam shook his head, his long hair swinging with the movement. 

"I need you here, keeping an eye on Dean. I know he puts on a good front, but I don't think he's doing as good as he says." He told you, but before you could argue any farther, you heard humming from behind you.

"Damn it, am I the only one awake around here?" You heard Dean grumbling in the hall, before he appeared in the library, and you and Sam took a step apart, trying to look not guilty. Dean's eyes narrowed, before he took a sip of his coffee, his eyes furrowing  in on you over the white lip of the cup. "I guess not. What's going on guys?" 

"Sam was just telling me about another one of his errands, and I was asking if I could go." You told him, not missing the dagger of a look Sam sent your way.

"It's nothing important. And I wanted some time by myself. So I said no." Sam replied, heading towards the door, no doubt wanting to get away from the confrontation.

Dean's answer was to take another sip of his coffee, his eyes glancing between the two of you, and you could shoot Sam. Because now, you were going to have to deal with Dean, while Sam ran off. You didn't blame him for wanting to see if Rowena had found a way to save Dean yet, but you hated the fact that you were left behind to lie to Dean.

You watched dejectedly as Sam stepped out of the bunker, before you turned and silently making your way into the kitchen, needing that cup of coffee more than ever now. You had no idea if Dean followed your or not, and you wished he hadn't, because you needed a little time to compose yourself before you were hammered for information.

Stepping up on your tip toes, you reached for your favorite coffee cup, holding it by the tip of your fingers when "So, do you want to tell me what that was about." Came from behind you. You jumped, Dean surprising you, and the cup slipped through your fingers, and you could only watch as it crashed to the ground, white pieces flying everywhere.

"Shit." You cussed, moving to clean it up, and in your haze you stepped right onto a huge piece of the broken pottery with your bare foot. Thinking only of cleaning up the mess, you ignored the pain in your foot, moving towards the broom, leaving a slight trail of blood behind you.

You were working on remote now, your mind telling you to clean the mess up, but Dean grasped you by the arm stopping you. "Y/N, sit down, you cut yourself." He ordered you, leaving no room for argument. You did as you were told, sitting at the table, and he pulled a chair forward, before grabbing a clean towel and the first aid kit you kept in the kitchen. Sitting down in the chair, he grabbed your ankle, pulling it up and placing your foot on his thigh. Running his hand lightly across your instep, you shivered from the touch, as he inspected your cut.

"Well, at least it isn't too deep. Band aid should fix it." He told you, gently wiping the blood away, before placing a band aid across it. Once he was done, you started to move your foot, but he grasped your ankle, holding you still. His hold lessened, his thumb rubbing circles across your ankle. "Can you tell me what this was about? You're never that jumpy." He asked softly, but you could see in his eyes that he was concerned, but also wary. 

"Maybe too much sleep." You offered, feeling his hand tighten around your ankle at your response.

"I don't really think that's it." He answered. "Why don't you try again."

"Dean, I don't know what you're talking about!" You insisted. "I wasn't paying attention, and you startled me. End of story."

Once again, his hand tightened on your ankle, and you yelped in pain, noticing his eyes darken a little. "Dean, stop it, you're hurting me!" 

Even though you tried to pull your foot away, Dean's hand wouldn't budge, and he was staring you down, but his eyes were blank. You were starting to get scared, afraid that he was going to let the Mark control him. "Dean, please." You tried again.

"You see Y/N, I know you very well. And I can always tell when you are lying. And I know that right now, something is going on, and I mean to find out." He promised, his voice deadly quiet.

Once again you tried pulling away, and this time he let you, and you fell in your haste, your hands landing on the broken pottery that hadn't been cleaned up yet. Wincing as it made little slices in your palms, you stood up, backing away from Dean. He didn't seem phased, in fact he seemed calm and collected, but deadly. It was crazy how one minute he was being kind and gentle, cleaning your feet, and the next he was bruising your ankle.

"Dean, it's nothing. I was clumsy." You almost sobbed at him, backing your way to the door, but at your response he moved, and before you could blink he had his hand wrapped around your throat, pushing you up against the wall.

"Tell me Y/N. What's going on between you and my brother? Don't lie to me, I saw the two of you standing close together, you in this skimpy shirt." He growled into your ear, grabbing the neckline of your shirt, and ripping it deeply.

"Dean, it's nothing. I promise." You said, but he didn't like the answer, and he slammed your head back, into the wall. All you could think of was Demon Dean, and your panic took over, and you raised your arms, hitting any spot of Dean you could get a hold of.

"I don't believe you. I know somethings going on, that the two of you are hiding something. I don't know what it is, if you're seeing each other behind my back, but I warn you. Do not hide anything from me." He told you, your hits not seeming to bother him at all. 

You did the only thing you could think of, bringing your knee up, and pushing it, hard, into his groin. The effect was immediate, his hold on your neck loosened, and he took a staggering step back. Taking that as your opportunity, you ran out of the room, the pain in your hands and neck forgotten in your haste to get somewhere safe. 

You rushed to your room, shutting the door and locking it, before sliding down. "It was the Mark." You repeated over and over, knowing it wasn't really Dean. You had known he would crack sometime, but you hadn't really thought that it would be your way.

Stumbling to your feet, you grabbed your phone that was laying on the nightstand, dialing Sam. He picked up on the second ring. "Hey Y/N, what's up?"

"Sam, do whatever you have to do, get whatever help you need. We need to get Dean cured, and now." You told him, your voice rushed and frantic.

"Why? What happened?" He asked, and you told him everything.

"Damn it, I should have brought you with me. Stay in your room, I will be back soon. I have help now, so I won't be gone as much." He told you.

"What help?" You asked, as you made your way into the bathroom, grabbing the antiseptic from the shelf. Dabbing it on, you hissed at the pain.

"I've acquired a couple of new helpers, Cas and Charlie. They will stay here and deal with Rowena, and Charlie will work on trying to decipher it too." He told you.

"As long as they stay safe." You answered, knowing it was useless to say, because no matter what, none of you would ever be completely safe.