The pyre had been lit. Dean watched another family member burn. Just one more that the never-ending war had taken from him.

Sam had once again lied to him along with Castiel. They had even convinced her to go alone with it. They had lefr her with Rowena of all people.

Dean would forever be haunted by finding her. How much blood would be shed for him or because of him? In his ever blacking heart he knew the seething rage he felt wasn't from the Mark of Cain, but from losing another piece of his humanity, another chunk from his heart. Dean had promised her that nothing would happen to her, a promise he had broken more times than he cared to remember.

Later that night he sat in silence alone in his room drinking deeply from his whiskey bottle. Sam walked in, "Dean if I would have known." Sam started. Dean jumped up knocking his chair over. "What!? Never envolved her, personally protected her." Dean yelled. "You're the reason she's gone, Sam." Dean was in Sam's face; anger and pain coursing through his veins. "I never wanted her huet much less killed." Sam said defeatedly. "Then you should have left her out of it, man. Don't you see we're poison, everyone around use dies. This time the blood is on your hands."

Sam knew his brother was right. He was the one that gave her the book and convinced her to go alomg with the plan. The guilt weighed heavily upon him but not as heavy as doing nothing to save his brother. Had he really became so broken that he was willing to scarfice the people they loved for Dean? The answer was yes, yes he was. In that moment of sad realization he knew Dean was right, that Charlie Bradbury's blood was on his hands alone and that he may even had just cost his brother's humanity.