(Dean)

Scarlett was screaming again.

Her agony tore right through me.

Sam was practically chewing through his bottom lip as we heard Castiel murmuring to Scarlett.

I could hear him encouraging her to stay strong, but she was far past help. It'd been three days since Rowena had dropped a truth bomb about Scarlett's curse, and it wasn't good. There wasn't anything anyone could do; she was doomed.

Sam slammed his glass down onto the table when Scarlett screamed bloody murder.

"Is this how it ends? Huh? We just let her die in the dungeon?," Sam demanded.

I tossed my glass aside and stood, my hands on my hips.

"What would you have me do, Sam? What? Do you think I want this for her? I love that woman down there, same as you!," I yelled.

Scarlett was crying, her pain as palpable as the tension rising between Sam and I.

I hated the look on Sam's face, but it couldn't be avoided.

He scoffed, shaking his head at me as he dropped his hands onto his own hips.

"No, not like me! I didn't toss her aside, Dean. I stayed, I stayed every time she needed me!"

Sam was right, and I couldn't deny that. He was fucking right, and that killed me almost as much as the screaming coming from the dungeon.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Sam's nostrils flared and he shook his head gruffly.

"I ain't gonna let you have her again, Dean. I'm going to see if Castiel's made any progress. She needs me," Sam spat as he left me by myself.

I watched as he went, wondering for the millionth time, if there were any favors I could call in. Rowena's plan had been a damn good one, and there was nothing we could do to reverse it. Not yet.

Her plan, her diabolical plan to appease Amara had cost Scarlett her life. The only consolation that Crowley had been able to give us, was that she would be well taken care of after.

After she fucking died.

Rowena knew what she was doing when she put that mark on her arm. Her whole plan had been to finally undo the Winchester's in the way she'd never gotten Crowley to undo us. She took away the one thing we both loved, and she'd even been smart enough to convince Scarlett it was her idea.

Scarlett was going to die, and she was going to become a demon.

Rowena had won.

"Dean!"

I startled at the sound of Sam's desperate voice, rushing across the floor as fast as my heavy soled boots would allow. The dungeon came into view faster than I'd have honestly liked, and the sight of Scarlett made my fucking stomach turn.

Castiel had his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up; most of the skin bared to me was covered in Scarlett's blood.

She had her head tossed back and the color of skin was near an ashy gray color. Castiel looked at me with those sad fucking puppy dog eyes and I knew what was coming.

"No," I breathed as I neared her.

Her chest was barely moving, and when I saw what Castiel had been trying to do, when I saw the skin on her arm flayed open like the flat side of a flour tortilla, I covered my mouth with my hand.

Sam was on his knees beside her, his hands pushing the hair away from her beautiful face.

Her arms and legs were bound to the very chair I'd been bound to, and the irony of the situation was not lost on me.

"Dean, she's...," Sam didn't say another word, he couldn't.

Her lips were moving.

I kneeled on the other side of her, brushing hair away from her mouth, leaning closer so I could hear what she was whispering.

"I love you, I love you," her breathy voice repeated.

Sam huffed out a breath, tears in his eyes, as Castiel came to stand beside me.

"I cannot remove the mark, Dean. She told me to keep going- but I- I could not," He admitted as he hung his head shamefully.

"Heal her."

Castiel put his fingers to her head, and it made the surface wounds disappear, but she was still ashen and clammy.

Her breathing slowed and Castiel's eyes widened in alarm.

"She isn't healing internally."

I shook my head.

"Fix her, Cas."

"Dean, you misunderstand me. I can't heal her, the poison has eaten her away inside. There is nothing left for me to do," Castiel said.

I choked out a breath, shaking my head.

"No. No!," Sam screamed.

He hurriedly untied her, draping her over his lap as he scooted through a pool of her own blood to hold her tightly against his chest. I wanted to hold her myself, I wanted to snatch her out of his grip and feel that soft skin one more time, but she wasn't mine anymore.

God, save her.

I kneeled beside Sammy as he cradled her face with his large hand, running his thumb across her lips.

She blinked, her eyes dark and bloodshot again as she eyed us.

"Love...you," She whispered shakily.

That fucking black ooze that had spilled from every orifice of her body began to drip from between her lips again and I knew then and there that she wouldn't be leaving this room.

Not alive.

Castiel turned his back to us as I took one of her hands into mine and kissed the back of it.

"I'm sorry, Scar. For everything," I whispered.

Her hold on me tightened slightly, letting me know that she heard me.

Sam buried his face into her neck as she began to shake violently, her lungs gasping for air.

Her hold on me went limp entirely, and that black ooze was now sprayed all over the front of Sam's shirt.

I didn't even realize I was crying until Sam pulled back slightly and realized that she wasn't breathing at all.

"Dean, she's gone."

I pressed two fingers to her pulse point.

She's dead.

Scarlett's dead.

"She can't be dead, Dean. I need her!," Sam screamed as he laid her out on the floor and began chest compressions.

I tried to tell him that it was of no use, that her body was tired and we shoould let her be. He was crying and I wasn't sure I've ever seen Sammy cry like that, not since he was a little boy-

"Might I suggest we leave her be, and wait for the inevitable?"

Crowley's voice didn't surprise me, but the relief I felt knowing she'd come back at least alive only proved to show how selfish I was.

Sam refused to let go of her, and only because I wanted to cry where no one could see me, I left him alone with her while I trekked back to my room.

Where I closed the door and slammed my fists against it until they were bloody.

Where I cried into my pillow until the very scent of Scarlett evaporated from the air was then replaced by the salty smell of my tears.

Where I finally realized it was time to let her go, because she wasn't mine to cry over.

She was Sammy's, and maybe, she always had been.