A/N: Sorry about the long hiatus. Life happened. Thanks for all the kind reviews! I really had fun writing this chapter I'm a little twisted. But I really feel like I stepped my game up on this chapter.

Warnings: A little of the ultraviolence. Proceed with caution.

All the elder hunter knew was pain. He awoke to rough hands pulling and tugging him to his feet. Once upright, the world around him spun like an unmerciful tilt-o-whirl. All from being unable to shield his face from the blows of the past few hours, his arms were bound cruelly behind his back, his skull didn't take the impact so well.

'Think it's safe to say I have a concussion…'

He wasn't on his feet for long before he was hoisted high above the ground, his sore body dangling inches from the golden straw floor. Cold steel chains were wrapped around his wrists and soon bit into bone as the brutes released him and left him to hang. Stifling back the urgent need to scream, Dean bit his lower lip. His mouth tried to form the curses bubbling out of him but his muddled haze from waking prevented him from doing so. Black cloth covered his glassy eyes, and the knot was tied forcefully behind his head. It didn't matter that he was blindfolded, he could hardly adjust his sight anyway. The wooden screen door leading to the inside of the house slammed, letting Dean know he was all alone again. Left to suffer.

Minutes seemed like hours. Repeatedly Dean attempted to shift to relieve some of the strain on his arms, worried he was going to dislocate his shoulders. Having that happen on a previous hunt, a powerful spirit of a dead Cherokee chief in East Tennessee had used Dean's body as his own personal tribal drum. It was a pain he wasn't eager to experience again.

The only sounds in the temporarily abandoned barn were Dean's frantic shivering. The sound made him sick, literally, he fought back the acidic liquid creeping it's way up from his stomach. His jacket had been taken from him earlier, and what was left of his shirt was in a shredded pile on the floor, making it useless. All that stood between Dean and hypothermia was his soaked, blood stained jeans. And they did little to warm him. All he heard in the blackness and fog was the hollow creek of the support beam he was suspended from and the faint hum of a familiar melody coming from inside the house. It was a Hendrix song. That much he could make out. Maybe Purple Haze. He only needed to hear the strong guitar licks to know the legend when behind the groove. Maybe he didn't hear it. Maybe his mind was concocting the music to help him take the focus from the constancy of the pain.

It didn't matter, more pain was to come. Kate wasn't going to let him off that easily. She wanted justice, she wanted revenge. It seethed from every pore of her undead skin and burned like the sun in her eyes. Dean had seen it, he saw it the very moment his eyes locked with hers when he was brought before her. She was going to make him suffer slowly and what's worse, she was planning to condemn Sam to the same fate, as soon as she got her cold, steely hands on him. Dean played out the image repeatedly in his fevered mind. Sam being mutilated, tortured or drained of life. Dean couldn't let his baby brother, who he fought so hard to keep safe throughout his life, be taken out in the name of a dead bloodsucker.

'No! We aren't going out like that Sammy!…..Can't let them get a hold of him.'

A renewed sense of purpose washed over Dean and his adrenaline pumped through his blood. Vigorously he pulled and yanked at the link chains cutting into his wrists. He dug his teeth into his bottom swollen bottom lip to keep from yelling as the wounds on his wrists were rubbed raw. Hot crimson liquid trickled down his arms.

Suddenly he felt a breeze blow by, chilling his already freezing body. Then he felt a presence in front of him. Dean stiffened up, with no sight he felt vulnerable and unprotected. Icy hands touched his chest and he let out a startled gasp. Internally he kicked himself as the bitch broke into laughter.

"I'm sorry little boy, I didn't mean to frighten you. Let me give you sight advantage. I want you to be able to see everything that about to happen to you."

In a flash his head was pulled back and she reached around to undo the knot of his blindfold. Her face was the first thing he saw. She smiled darkly at her catch. Eyeing him up and down, taking in the numerous cuts, bruises and bleeding areas on his abused body. His skin was shades of black, yellow, and blue. The sight almost made Kate salivate.

"You maybe want to get this over with? Not unless you want to break out the white cat and eye patch and explain your evil plans to me?" He laughed to himself, it felt good to get that out.

She couldn't help but smile at his attempt to get a rise out of her. "That's right Dean, keep up the jokes. Whatever helps you forget how much pain you are in. How much you would love to take the stress off of your shoulders."

She eased into his space and ran her fingers over the multicolored areas of his torso. She trailed over a deep gash and licked the blood from her fingers. His body tried to tense away from her but there wasn't anywhere for it to go, instead he had to endure being violated.

"I bet you wish you were far away from here. With Sam next to you, not worrying about what I'm going to do to him when he gets here." She raised her fingertips over his lips for a moment before he jerked his head away from her touch. Kate saw the worry set deep in his eyes in that moment before flickering back to sheer hatred.

'Please let Sam have a plan…'

"No need to worry baby, he's not here yet. Not even close. I'd smell him." She relished taunting him, knowing he couldnt take a swing at her, even if he wanted to.

"If you lay one hand on him I swear…" Dean grounded out with fury.

"Oh honey, I'd worry more about yourself if I were you. I'm not going to kill you just yet. I want to keep you around long enough to hear your brother begging for his life."

He watched as she moved away from him and headed over to a table with various objects strewn about. Ever the neat freak, the torture devices were grouped together in an organized fashion. Sharp silver things on one side, leather straps and wooden planks on the other. Everything that lay before her was expertly sharpened and clean, the metal gleaming back at her.

"Where to start.." Dean could hear the blatant glee in her voice as she eyed her tools. She turned to face him and Dean saw the obscene joy in her face.

'This is about to get real bad, real fast.'

He pushed all thoughts away and concentrated on enduring what was to come. Winchesters don't break, they don't scream, and they don't beg. Dean had learned from his father many years ago the mantra that was so prevalent now.

The closer she got to Dean, the more she could see his body tense up. Especially when he noticed one of her hands hidden behind her back.

"I've got a surprise for you." She cooed as she strode towards him slowly.

"I really don't care much for surprises."

Revealing the hidden object to be a two-foot long cattle prod. The two metal prongs on the end flicked on and off. Dean tried to swallow but his dry mouth wouldn't allow it. He knew there were no cows in sight.

"I think this is a great way to start, don't you?" She pressed the end to his right ribcage, right were the skin was thin enough to emit the desired effect.

The electricity coursed through him, and he struggled trying to give her the satisfaction of showing his agony.

"SCREAM FOR ME!!"

A/N: Hooray for cliffhangers:) I hope you liked it as much I had fun writing it. I plan on hurting Dean alot more. Don't worry there's going to be more Sam soon! Please review! It helps to me to keep going. :)