A/N: *SPOILER ALERT* If you have not see the episodes explaining Dean's time in Hell then please, do NOT read.
Warning: This fic is fairly dark and I make no apologies for that fact. We are talking about Hell here people...
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. If I did Dean would never have suffered so much... Reviews are Love!
Day One:
He wanted to be brave. He knew what he was getting into when he had agreed to the Deal. He had never kidded himself about the level of absolute Hell he was going to endure. What he hadn't bargained on was the loneliness. Even as they made the first cut into his flesh he could close his eyes and see his brother's face. The loneliness tore at his heart but it also strengthened him. He could deal with the pain. Sammy was safe and alive because of his willingness to accept this pain and that was enough to get him through this.
At the end of the day He came. He offered to release him from this torment. Offered to free him from the rack where he was destined to spend eternity at the hands of those skilled in torture beyond his imagining. It was a simple thing really, all he had to do was to agree to take up the knife, be the one to begin the torture on the next damned soul. It wasn't such a terrible thing was it? After all, these were souls who had been condemned to Hell…they deserved what they were getting right? And yet, he couldn't do it. The part of him that still clung to his humanity rebelled at the thought of doing the work of a demon.
Day Nine Hundred and Seven:
He knew what was coming. It was the same every day. Pain…more pain than he had thought could ever exist. And when it was over…more pain. That was the way of things here. He had always thought he was strong but now he wasn't so sure. How much pain could one man take? How long till he found his breaking point? And still…at the worst of it…he thought of Sammy, clinging to the memory of why he was here.
The offer was always the same. Delivered by the same man, in the same tone, at the same time. And each time he refused it. Each time he thought of everything he had lived for, everything he had died for, and found the will to say no. Each time he thought of Sam and how it would hurt him to know that he had given in. That's all it would take…the thought of disappointing his little brother, and he would find the strength to go on. He would never give in to the temptation that was being offered to him…never.
Day Three Thousand and Thirty-Eight:
Each new day he thought that the pain would lessen. It would have to get easier as time went on. At some point he would have to begin to numb to the pain…wouldn't he? Yet, each day the cutting started anew and each day his screams of agony joined those around him…a chorus of suffering, fitting for the bowels of Hell. He wasn't sure how long he had been here…how many days had passed as his blood dripped from his wounds…memories were fading, it was so hard to hold onto them through the pain…
How many times had he refused this offer? How many more times would it take before He realized that it would never happen? How much longer would they play this game before He gave up and stopped asking? God, he hoped it was soon because it was getting harder and harder to remember why he was refusing…even as he cursed the offer aloud part of him, deep inside ached to accept it.
Day Nine Thousand and Sixty-One:
Time was meaningless. The only thing that had any meaning here was the pain. Each time he thought that they had exhausted their repertoire of torture methods they surprised him by introducing something new. That was the worst of it…if it was just the same thing day after day he thought that maybe he could get used to it…This new thing was the worst yet. He couldn't imagine that there could be anything more painful than having the skin sliced from his body inch by inch until he thought he would go mad from the sheer rawness of the pain.
And still He came. Ceaselessly, persistent, refusing to give up on his offer. He knew there was a reason he shouldn't accept. He only wished he could remember it. Even as his tears fell to mix with his blood on the floor, as his body screamed out for an end to the pain, a small part of him was whispering in his mind…never… never… It would make the denial much easier if he could just remember why it was wrong… He still refused; he had always refused so there must be a reason.
Day Eleven Thousand and Twenty-Nine:
They explained what was in store first. They described the whole procedure from start to finish. First they would make a single long incision from his trachea to his pelvic bone. Then they would use that incision to begin removing his organs…one at a time, allowing him ample time to examine each and understand its purpose before moving on to the next. He tried to remember why he was being punished so severely. What had he done to cause this? Wasn't there anything he could do to make it up to them?
At the end of the day He came. This felt familiar…His presence was almost comforting. He offered to release him from this torment. Offered to free him from the rack where he had known nothing but pain and suffering. It was a simple thing really, all he had to do was to agree to take up the knife, be the one to begin the punishment on the next damned soul. It wasn't such a terrible thing was it? After all, these were souls who had been condemned to Hell…they were evil and deserved to be punished right? He had spent his entire existence punishing evil so this really wasn't very different…
In the morning he felt the heft of the knife in his hand as he made the first cut…
