A/N: This is just a small little side project where I throw things at different characters and see how much they bleed. In other words, I'm incredibly sadistic and like to torture my fictional characters. As bad as that sounds, I can assure you I'm perfectly fine and shouldn't need to be restrained.

This is beta'd by anonymous-unknown who gets a enormous hug for putting up with me and my writing. Hugs all round, woo! Also, thank you for reading my author's notes and not snickering at me. If you have snickered at me I will frown loudly in your direction. Enjoy, lovelies! x


Part 1 – Torture

Time: Early season five

Includes: Dean, demons, Castiel, mentions Sam, hurt!Dean

Length: 803 words


[ONE]

Dean tugged against his bonds once more, grumbling when they didn't budge. He gave another annoyed yell to the dark and empty room around him, ultimately uttering a heavy sigh. He was stuck; the handcuffs had both his hands trapped above his head, rendering him unable to move from his place beside the pipe system. His lock pick was in his pocket and he didn't tend to go around wearing bobby pins in his hair.

To add to his annoyance, there was currently a nasty cut on his forehead, along with an uncomfortable amount of blood dripping over his right eye. He was pretty certain his nose was broken, too, as well as various other bruised and battered places all over his body from the fight before his predicament.

He had gone to investigate how good the beer was in the local bar while Sammy got a little shut-eye back at the motel they were staying at. Their last job had them tracking down a nest of vamps, and neither of them had gotten any sleep since their third lead two days ago. Sam had collapsed on the nearest bed without a second thought, asleep before he hit the pillow. Dean had covered him over with the quilt and then proceeded to the bar. He hadn't felt tired; he just wanted a drink.

Dean had been in the process of leaving the bar when he got jumped. It had been dark at the time, but the neighborhood was shady anyway (cue vamps), so he suspected nobody had witnessed him get beaten there in the street by five guys, bundled into his own car too stunned to react properly and then promptly knocked out in the backseat. He'd woken up handcuffed to the pipes next him, hurting all over.

There was no sign of the guys who had done it. They had beheaded all the vampires, Dean was sure. And he was still human, as far as he could tell, so that was definitely a plus.

He waited in the silence and the dark a while longer, until finally a door opened across the room. First light penetrated through the doorway, but soon the light was occupied by none other than a man with dead-black eyes. Dean let out a sharp breath, tugging on his handcuffs again.

Said man approached, hands in his pockets. Their strides were almost smug. He stopped two or three paces in front of Dean, looking down at the hunter quizzically.

"Stuck, are we?" he inquired, a small grin creeping across his face. He then crouched, clasping his hands between his legs.

Dean tugged against the cuffs again. "What do you want?" he asked with a lack of preamble.

"To have a little fun." The man responded, his features twisting into a crooked smile. "Nothing wrong with that, is there?" he inquired, tilting his head.

Dean kept a blank face, opting to now ignore the demon in front of him. He looked past the hell-bent creature to the wall opposite. He was reminded of the demon's presence by a sharp pain on his forearm.

He looked to find the source of the pain and discovered it to be the man, though he was now armed with a knife. He was wearing his twisted grin again. The warm blood from the deep wound dripped down Dean's arm and onto his shoulder. The man seemed pleased at this.

"Having fun?" he inquired as he made the second cut, slowly this time, perpendicular to the one he had made before.

Dean hissed in pain as the knife slid across his skin but offered the demon no response. He continued to stare at the opposite wall. He clenched his teeth together, determined not to cry out as the demon made the third cut on his other arm.

"How about now?" he continued to taunt, drawing out each syllable more than necessary.

There was a sudden bright light produced from the door the demon had come from. Said creature turned around just in time to see an un-happy Castiel appear in the doorway.

Immediately, the demon's meat suit emitted the chain of black smoke and the demon was gone. Castiel looked bored at this. He then approached Dean, now looking concerned, and un-did the handcuffs with a click of his fingers.

Dean was grateful for the circulation in his hands again. "Thanks." he told the angel in a grumble. He pressed a hand to the deepest cut, wincing as it spiked the pain more fiercely.

"I will take you back to your motel." Castiel told him, not responding to his expression of gratitude, and then Dean was standing next to Sam's bad.

Castiel gave Dean a little nod and the tiniest hint of a smile from across the bed, and then his rescuer was gone.