Pairings: Destiel if ya squint
A/N: Uh, I'm back with a new story. I sent these in parts via Tumblr ask to one of my friends Gracie. I do this; I'll send parts of a fic to a friend of mine to get their opinions on it on whether or not I should continue it. So, enjoy.
"Oh, your precious little Dean's gone. Poof!"
He flicks his fingers in a fairy-like manner with such a ruthless smile, it's sickening.
"Don't you say that, Lucifer."
"You're so smitten, Castiel, it's pathetic." Visions begin to flash before my eyes. Terrible screams accompany the horrible images of Dean being tortured, the burning fires of hell around him. His terrified tears and pleads with the devil make me want to turn in on myself and scream. There is no. Way. Out.
By hour four, I'm pleading with him. There's sweat and blood caked on my forehead that I haven't bothered to wipe away with a tattered sleeve. Throughout, he just sits there on his haunches, observing me go slowly insane. His movements are almost feline-like as he takes in the one he is torturing, a slow smile spreading across his chiseled figures every time a sob escapes my chapped lips.
"Had enough?" He asks quietly just thirty minutes later. I'm panting, sprawled out on the floor, bleeding half-moons dug into the pads leading to my fingers from where I've been clenching on myself to try to erase the pain. I nod jerkily and he claps his hands together, as if he came to some monumental conclusion. "Great! Now let's move on to our next little tutorial, shall we?" He gives me that Cheshire cat grin and points to the electrode machine looming behind him.
When you're tortured by the devil, it happens quickly. He grabs you and ties you to whatever is getting the honor of loading your body with nerve-rupturing agony. This time, it was the same machine that had put Sam though anguish nights before. My arms and hands are on fire as he sends the first round of electricity through me. My back arches from the dirty bed and I give a pained shout. Lucifer? He just chuckles... that son of a bitch.
He leaves me alone just as midnight arrives. I'm cowering in the middle of my bed, not worrying about the sweat collecting beneath my chest. I just want Dean. Where is he? Why did he leave? What did I do? I tried to help! I keep replaying this sequence of phrases over and over in my mind until I'm nearly screaming, I'm crying so hard. I keep pounding my fists into the soft plush of my pillows, praising God for giving me a soundproof room to be in. No human should have to hear this.
Like I was those months before without Dean, I was alone. I fall asleep at three in the morning with wavering whimpers as exhaustion overtakes me. My dreams aren't that better. They're mostly of Dean begging for mercy and crying as his brother is tortured by the devil. I'm trying to help and get closer to Sam to free him from his nightmare, but it's like invisible lead chains are around my arms and I can't wrap myself around him to protect him. I'm being tugged away from him as Dean screams louder, my name mingling in with his muffled cries of Sam's name.
My screams are so loud when I wake up, a window shatters and spreads jagged glass across the cold linoleum floor, glinting mischievously in the moonlight, silently laughing at my nightmare.