The Light

Disclaimer: Not mine. Kripke and Co. own Supernatural…

Summary: Dean remembers being rescued from Hell.

Spoilers: Season 4, but nothing specific. Takes place after episode 4.10, Heaven and Hell

Warning: Mentions of torture and some of Dean's thoughts and actions might not be too appealing in this one.

A/N: This idea popped into my head while watching a marathon of the season 4 DVDs. Such a big deal (and rightly so) was made over whether or not remembered his time in Hell. Now that we know he remembers every single minute of those 40 years, I started to wonder if he also remembered being rescued by Castiel. I don't think Dean has ever mentioned this aspect.

All mistakes are mine. Sorry if this idea has been done before…

ooooooo

I've had this soul on my rack for three days now and can't help having as much fun as possible with it. I'm always happy to get child abusers and molesters under my knife. It makes this 'life' all that much more enjoyable.

Alastair thinks I have such potential. Between my experience 'up top' with hunting some of the creatures that now reside here (Awkward!) and my 30 years on the rack, it's hard not to know how to handle all the weapons and toys at my disposal.

In my thirtieth year when Alastair asked me yet again if I wanted it all to stop, if I wanted off the rack, I just couldn't stand the torture anymore and finally gave in. When I was given a knife and set upon my first soul, I had an audience of who I think were some pretty high ranking demons. It didn't matter to me who they were, I was ready to take some of the pain that I'd been feeling for so long and inflict it on others just as deserving as me.

I took that first slice and a roar of celebration rang throughout that I hadn't heard before or since. I have no idea why they were so happy for me to join them in their tortuous ways. I was just another soul who had given up and had become less than human. No reason to celebrate what must happen all the time.

I've been at this for a little over ten years now, and have developed a sort of sense for how best to torture the latest creature to grace my rack. For this one it's fire – kind of funny when you consider that there are fires and much, much worse just about everywhere you look.

I was just about to start on its face when I heard the screeches of anger begin to drift in from the farthest corners of Hell. I shrugged and decided to return to my task. I didn't care what happened beyond my little part of Hell.

The screeches and screams began to get louder and closer. The sounds of fighting reached my ears. But, what got my attention was the Light that began to filter through the doorway to my chamber. It was different than the normal oppressive light-dark that permeated my surroundings. It was like nothing I'd ever seen during my time here and I wondered what fresh horror it would bring.

The Light in my doorway was brightening, as if it was coming closer. The more I stared at it, the more I felt guilt for what I'd been doing to the souls in my 'care' for the last decade or so. It started to become so overwhelming to my senses that I couldn't stand to look at it anymore. It took all the will I had to turn my back on the Light.

And, even though I had turned my back on it, it seemed to be getting brighter and brighter and coming closer and closer. The sounds of fighting were escalating and I became more afraid than I had ever been here in Hell.

For some reason, I let the poor creature on my rack go and it scurried away as fast as it could move in its condition. I knew I would pay for that act of kindness, but the Light was currently more terrifying to me than anything even Alastair could think up to do to me.

I didn't think I could move. Though my back was turned, I was still being blinded by the Light as it came closer and closer. It was at the same time terrifyingly beautiful and utterly condemning. I have become a monster during my time here in Hell. I do not deserve to see such beauty anymore. But, at the same time, I deserve the condemnation for allowing myself to give into the torture in the first place.

I should have been stronger. I shouldn't have given in.

The fighting continued to get louder and the Light in my chamber brighter as it seemed to be heading in my direction. All I wanted to do was to escape the Light, but I seemed to be rooted to the ground. The only thing I could do to escape was to drop into a crouch and close my eyes.

Even with my eyes closed I could still see the Light. It was blinding.

It was here.

It filled my chamber and I could sense a presence that had come to stand before me. Through my closed eyes I could see a vaguely human shape that was so very, very beautiful. No words could ever ever be adequate or accurate enough to describe the Light.

After that first glimpse with my closed eyes, I couldn't bear to look at It anymore. I tried to hide my head in my arms so that I could not see the beauty or feel the terror that was overtaking every fiber of my being.

Even then, the Light permeated everything including my ragged soul.

A deep, clear voice said, "Fear not."

I felt a hand grip my left arm. It burned my skin and hurt worse than anything I had ever felt when Alastair was torturing me. And, yet, I still couldn't bring myself to look at the Light.

I felt as if I was rising. I was too afraid to look and even more afraid of the Light and what it could mean. Was this some new level of torture? What was happening? Why me?

I could hear the voices of the others and they sounded angrier than I'd ever heard them, but yet they were beginning to fade.

The Light suddenly extinguished and Its beauty began fading from my memory.

The screams and chaos of Hell was both far away and right next to me. All I could feel was fear and confusion.

And then, without warning, everything went black.

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Note: I didn't originally plan on writing any more to this, but felt it might be too abrupt an ending. Hence, the next chapter. Thanks for reading!