Disclaimer: Everything belongs to their respective owners, Eric Kripke, the CW, WB.

A/N: First story in a LONG time: This is sort of Alistair's POV, but not in first person. What happens in Hell and Alistair's thoughts on Dean as he went through his 40 years and beyond.

I hope you'll read it. Make sure you review. Even a little "Nice work" feels good!

SUMMARY: Alistair is a famous demon in Hell. He placed a bid on Dean. He
broke Dean. He lost Dean. But he's not giving up his greatest prize that easy.
Genre: Horror, Angst
Rated: M
Characters: Alistair, Dean

Going Once, Going Twice, GONE!

There was a really simple procedure in Hell. A regular past time for the nastiest beasts in the Underworld.

Lesser souls, the beggars, poor people, or the general public that did very little to earn their way into Hell, were all divided among the upper class demons. The big cheeses of Hell. The reasons Hell was Hell. The torturers.

But then there were the 'upper class' souls sent to Hell. And that's where things got interesting. It was a bidding auction. The really nasty buggers sent to Hell were the real prize. The lawyers, senators, the CEOs of big companies who screwed the little people and earned a ticket down to Hell... they were the ones the torturers of Hell wanted. Not the bad guys, the thieves and murderers. They were almost treated like Heroes in the land of the dead. No. It was the ones who thought they were doing good in their life, thought they were helping, but still landed in Hell. Under false impressions all through their life; the ones with power, up above. The ones who needed to be knocked down a notch or two. Those were the expensive ones. Demons paid a lot for them. Because they really wanted to make them suffer. The wanted to greet their greedy asses to Hell their own way.

Auctions were held often. The unsuspecting souls, chained, were dragged in front of the bastards of Hell. One by one, they were shown. And the demons would trade other souls they had already claimed for these new ones they wanted. Or would give more years on the rack themselves for a chance to get their hands on the really deserving. Even trips to the In Between, where man walked, was wagered. A good price? Couple years topside, among those Hellish humans, for a chance to come back down and carve into their purchased politician, dirty priest, or conniving paralegal.

It was a regular past time. The Exchange.

It was also well known that Alistair, one bad ass Hell raiser, only chose the best of the best. The ones with great potential in Hell. He never placed a bid unless it was for the best. And the best didn't often come. So, he didn't often bid at all. He got his chance at a president or two. He's even taken a lonely man who'd stolen a chocolate bar when he was a child, but was then convicted of a lot worse up top, who'd gotten away with it all his living life, only to be discovered after death. Yes, Alistair had a knack for choosing the best. They'd climb off their own racks and would raise Hell themselves. And Alistair's chosen few were well respected.

So, when everyone saw Alistair give three of his well-shaped torture machines, and 1 full year topside, all for one lowly human, they wanted to see the result of him, how great he'd become. To Alistair's eyes, this new soul was the best.

Because it was when Alistair witnessed Dean Winchester dragged in front of the stand, he knew he had to have him. There was something in his soul. There wasn't much to Winchester's soul, truly. He wasn't anything big in the human world. He didn't influence anyone. He didn't single-handedly destroy lives. He didn't even indirectly kill anyone. He actually 'saved' lives. Hell, he was only in Hell because he'd sold his soul to save someone. Some wondered why he'd even been put up for auction. Someone so lowly couldn't possibly be anything great in Hell, right? But Alistair saw something. Something he liked. He bid one of the highest prices he'd ever given for anyone. Now Dean Winchester was his.

Demons of Hell watched and waited. The harshest demons, the apprentices, even some of the damn souls who were being tortured, waited for Dean's brilliance to shine. He was Alistair's after all... Alistair only chose the best.

Dean fought hard from his position on his rack, screaming with the best of them. But not wavering. At one point Alistair almost thought he'd made a mistake, maybe this soul really wasn't worth giving up his freedom in Hell. But blood boiled, so to speak. But then, 30 years later, off Dean Winchester came. And as he watched his new apprentice slice into that first screaming soul, he felt the Underground quake with a power that he'd never once known. It broke some demon's spirits. Some upper class torturers even fled Hell all together with fear. Everything trembled. The power this Winchester held was incredible.

But it wasn't Winchester's power. It was the power he'd created, only by slicing into that screaming bitch. Alistair took a look around and realized why it was everything shook, why everything quaked. Lucifer's first seal. Their father. It was all because of Dean Winchester. Alistair had made a great choice. He knew it at that moment. The power, that tremble, was the greatest thing to happen to Hell in a long time. All because of his Winchester.

Alistair was happier than he'd been in a long time. If he'd had a heart, it would have been beating hard with anticipation. He did everything to hone his new tools skills. And the torturers watched. Wishing maybe they'd given more for this one. The one who had brought upon their salvation. The man who brought hope to them all. They could have had a part of him. Could have owned him. They could have become famous, possessing Dean Winchester. But he was Alistair's. And he could become one of the greatest. He would.

Even as the angels swooped in, 10 years later, tearing through Hell with their own awesome rage, and took away his greatest purchase, Alistair knew Dean was a prize. He'd have to get him back, of course. He wouldn't let that one go, ever. He seethed at the idea of anyone else touching Winchester's soul. One day, Dean Winchester would be a legend in Hell. Under Alistair. But even then, he had what it takes to surpass his teacher. That much was clear.

That auction itself, where Alistair had made his gamble, would become a famous one. A simple soul, a hunter, a man, taken in by the greatest demon in Hell. The price seemed meager now. And every other Senator, lawyer, and corporate douchebag seemed VERY bush league.

Someday, someday soon, Dean would rejoin Hell's line-up. It was time to cash in his time up North. He'd find Dean's soul, and he'd take Dean's soul. One year upstairs, with Alistair's skills, it shouldn't be too hard to find him. Dean was damn-well owned by Alistair! And he would get that soul back. And, him and Dean together, would raise Hell from its depths. Bring salvation to all the damned. Alistair and Winchester. They would redefine Hell. He had what it takes. Winchester's soul had everything it took to make it in Hell. His black soul. No trip to Man's Land could change what Dean had become, all because of Alistair. Dean was Hell. Dean Winchester was their Savior. Dean Winchester... was evil.

End

A/N: So, this was written an hour after the Season 5 premiere, though, as you read, it has nothing to do with the premiere. But, this idea just came to me, literally. Imagine me, sitting, listening to music, then BAM! "I should write a story about this!" So, here we have it.

I hope you enjoyed it, and you'll leave me a little comment.
Thanks all!