Summary: Torture can cause even the most righteous man to fall.

Disclaimer: As much as I would love to own Dean and Supernatural, I do not. So please don't sue me.

Other: I owe this to my friend Liz because I only seem to be able to write like this when I'm emailing her and now she is making me post it because that's how she is. She wrote the summary and yells at me to keep writing.

I hope you enjoy it.

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In the Mirror of Your Eyes

The flames' light licked the metal of the curved blade. "Where to start?" The drawl was curious and excited. "The eyes?" The tip of the blade stroked the soft skin under one brilliant eye. Bright green reflected on the rune covered silver. A sudden movement and the tips of eyelashes fluttered into the sulfurous air. "The chest?" Dean's skin jumped at the blade's lover-touch. His muscles flexed in anticipation. "Don't worry. We'll get there?" Smoking black eyes met resilient green. "Let's be simple shall we? Give me your arm." Both arms immediately shot straight out from Dean's sides. "Just as obedient as your father. Oh yes. You can talk, well, you won't for long but i enjoy the before and after thoughts of my victims."

Dean's jaw released with a click and he gasped in the unpleasant smog. He wasn't sure breathing was necessary but it felt normal; it made him feel alive. "Go to..."

"Hell. Well don't you hit the nail on the head, dear boy. Mi casa es su casa. It really is a lovely place when you've got eyes for it." Smoke drifted like tears from the black orbs. A grin spread across the gaping hole the demon used to speak. A set of charred lips closed the void to conceal the echoing chuckle. "Ah Dean. I'm sorry I am so rude. My name is Alistair and I'll be taking care of you this evening."

Dean locked his jaw in a scowl. The deep green couldn't conceal the young man's terror.

"Because it's your first day, I'll go easy on you and only use this knife. Such a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, really. It has a mind of its own sometimes. No, no, no. Dear boy don't worry. You belong to me." The chilled metal slid under Dean's nail with a sharp flick. Harsh air stifled his groan. "No need to hold it in. No one is judging you down here." Another flick, and the nail glided through the smog to Alistair's waiting hand. "Here is your first souvenir, on the house." The nail was placed in Dean's throbbing hand. Deep ragged breaths broke the silence. "Alright tough guy." The knife slid slower this time, over his smallest finger. That nail joined the other with Dean's signature groan. "See, I like to hear how my patients are doing. If they won't be vocal I don't know if they are paying," a slow stoke, "attention." Dean's yelp brought a grin to the demon's face. Another nail joined the others. "We can work on that, but communication is the best way to nurture a relationship."

All five nails rested in Dean's motionless and bleeding hand. "Hmm. You're difficult. I like that. We can take each other to places we can't go alone." The knife slid into the first joint of his middle finger. Dean gasped and clenched his eyes shut. He could take it. "You know you can tolerate pain as well as I do. So I won't wait for the good stuff. Now I wanted to do you nice and slow."

"You're not my type," Dean gasped. Sweat trickled across his brow.

"Your jokes tell a lot about how insecure you are. See, Hell brings out everything. You can be yourself, no laws against anything. Consider this your first therapy session."

"Hell, the ultimate vacation spot."

"Well. It is warm and there is always something to do. And the view is really nice." Dean felt the kiss of the blade at his elbow. The screech of metal on bone scratched the air until the cool metal caressed his wrist. A soft whimper slipped out of Dean's mouth. "Now you're starting to open up. It's good for the soul."

Dean remained silent and in control. "Come on. Don't lock up son. You came so far." The knife kissed the flesh of Dean's inner elbow, and slid in near his pulsing vein. The tip touched bone, and slid knowingly along the vein toward the wrist. Blood filled the crevasse left behind. A stifled moan filled the air. Soon a harmony formed between Dean's pained groans and Alistair's laughter. Dean wanted to slice that piece of shit into bits so he would never have to see the demon again.

The silver knife glittered as Alistair's practiced hand removed it from Dean's blood-swollen flesh. "Dean, your eyes are positively glowing. Are those tears? Well tough guy?" Dean stared at the endless sky of the pit. "Come on. Say something."

"Screw you," Dean whispered, voice trembling.

"There you go again. Maybe your various pursuits with women were compensating for something?" Alistair's dagger teeth glittered against his charred flesh.

Breathing viciously through his nose, Dean did not look at the demon. Blood drifted across the table, trickling around his arm and torso. "Well, we don't have much time left, but trust me, we'll have time for everything you could dream of, and some that I come up with.

Alistair's inhuman hand glided the knife along Dean's vein and sliced the delicate tissue open. "I want you to know that I don't mind that you didn't scream for me the first time. We have so many more things to make you scream. And I think I went easy on you. I promise not to do that again." Dean's blood flooded the table with each pulsing beat of his heart. The demon's black ear grazed Dean's chest as he listened to the slowing heart. "I care about you. When ever you want this to stop just ask." This produced the desired catch in Dean's dead heart. The blood still poured from his vein. His ragged breathing let Alistair know Dean was still listening.

"When you want this to stop, you let me know. All you have to do is join me in the fun." Another catch from the still pulsing heart. "Yes if you want this to stop, you must torture other souls in your place. Trust me, it's better on this end of the relationship." A final catch. "Think about it." The harsh intake of smog stopped and Alistair watched the wounds created by his blade melt into the flawless flesh Dean's skin had been. Alistair leaned over, and kissed Dean's forehead with his blistered lips. "You'll come around."