A/N: This is a special E/O Challenge. It was intended to be 1,000 words long, for one of the challenges, but I could only get out 830-ish words. I have a long list of words that need to be included, as I've been away from the challenge group for a bit. The words are: inflamed, spasm, sanctimonious, solution, temporary, wayward, absence, impish, contrite, blue, laugh, pencil, tongue, sunshine, stuff and text.
The hospital was quiet. Dean lay in his hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. This crap was a bad idea from the start. He knew he'd done the wrong thing by letting the Angels bring him to that place... to face Alastair. Hell, they couldn't even build a decent Devil's Trap. He remembered what Cas said to him, right before he went in.
"I would give anything, not to have you do this."
Fuck that... Cas knew what he was doing when he and Uriel came to him. They would have forced him either way.
How could I be so stupid... so weak... as to let those dicks take me there, let me do those things?
It occurred to him that it might be the temporary absence of common sense or rational thinking. If it were, Sam would have knocked that notion on its ass. Speaking of, he hoped his brother would get his ass here soon, so they could get the hell away from here.
He winced as his inflamed eye throbbed with pain. He glanced over at the IV that was supposed to be delivering pain meds into his body. It was nearly empty. He attempted to reach for the call button, and barely grazed it before his pain was too much. He dropped his hand back to the bed in defeat.
This is what I've come to. Maybe I deserve this.
He thought back through the entire interrogation. Alastair was diabolical. He always knew exactly what buttons to push.
"You've gotta want a little payback for everything I did to you... all the pokes and prods... no? How about for all the things I did to your Daddy?"
The mention of his Father hit a sensitive spot deep down, but he didn't let that show outwardly. He remembered the sanctimonious laughter coming from Alastair. He wanted to rip that impish smile right off of his meat suit and end the prick right there. He knew exactly why he didn't do it.
The Angels needed information.
Stupid dicks. Nothing supernatural is trustworthy. End of story.
Nothing gave Dean more pleasure than watching Alastair's body spasm, and watching the dick choke on his own tongue while he poured salt down his throat.
But then, torturing other souls in hell gave him pleasure. He enjoyed hurting people when he was in hell. Enjoyed it.
He tried to give Alastair an out. He tried to make it so he wouldn't have to do it again. He didn't want to bring that piece of himself back to the surface. Alastair taunted him, said he'd left a part of himself back in the pit - that he needed to restore that missing piece.
It occurred to him while he was pouring salt down Alastair's throat until his face turned blue, that the demon was possessing a human being. If the guy wasn't already dead, Dean was torturing him, too.
Another innocent person. When does this shit end?
There was no solution, no cure for what Dean was feeling inside him. Not even Castiel could fix what was broken inside of him. He knew the Angel could see through him. He tried to hide the contrite expression on his face when he woke up in the hospital to find Castiel at his side. He knew the Angel saw it anyway.
The door to his room opened, and a pretty nurse came in to check on his vitals. He grinned.
At least I get a hot nurse.
"How are we feeling, Dean?" she asked.
Dean's eyes roamed her pencil-thin figure.
"Great now that you're here, sunshine." he grinned at her.
"It's good to see you haven't lost your sense of humor," The nurse countered, smiling at him. "I'm going to change your Morphine IV, okay?"
Dean pouted.
"Yeah."
The nurse changed the IV, and left Dean to his thoughts. Like he really wanted to be alone with the thoughts going through his head at the moment. All he wanted was to get the hell out of here, and away from this goddamned town, forever.
His phone lit up on the table next to him. He reached for it slowly. It was a text from Sam.
I'll be there soon. I promise.
Dean texted him back, and put his head back on the pillow.
At least there was one person he could always count on not to lie to him.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and quickly drifted off into a much needed sleep.
END