Chapter Four
The confines of the tranquil, isolated motel that sat on a dark and lonely highway was empty except for one room which was in complete darkness, not even the moon's light could penetrate through. The sound proofed room was currently filled with the sounds of desperate panting, as though the person couldn't get enough air. He knelt naked upon the carpeted floor, a sheen of cold sweat covering him from head to toe, making him shiver with the coldness of the room. With his head bowed, Dean kept his eyes on a patch of fading grey carpet nearby and waited with baited breath once everything seemed to calm down.
Dean's mind was filled with nothing. Emptiness was the only thing haunting him beside the demon somewhere near him in the darkness. Minutes had already passed and Alastair had not yet said a word to him. Upon arrival, Dean was let into the room by someone he couldn't see, stripped and made to kneel.
As a noise sounded close by, Dean swallowed hard, almost feeling his heart in his throat. Nothing came of the sound and Dean let out desperate whimper which shamed him to no end. He never thought it would come to this; him, begging for the demon to take him back, to forgive him for ever leaving.
"Please..."
A crude and amused chuckle reached him, making his eyes close tightly. It sent a bout of anger coursing through his veins but he managed to keep his opinions to himself, which was difficult. A shock gasp left Dean's mouth and his eyes widened considerably as something grabbed his chin tightly, turning his head forcibly.
Noticing that his eyes had adjusted, hate flooded the depths of his green orbs as they locked onto dark blue ones filled with sadistic abhorrence. Belonging to Alastair, they couldn't possible show anything else. As best he could, Dean contorted his face into disgust as he looked up at the demon, not daring to break the contact.
"Do not close your eyes," the demon breathed, warm breath hitting the hunter's face.
Gritting his teeth together tightly, Dean eventually nodded but refrained from saying anything. The vessel the demon used stood tall, his slender body being shown easily through the tight blue jeans and loose light blue shirt which was tucked in and buttoned up the full way.
"I think we should have a little talk, Dean. Don't you agree?" the demon asked, disappearing into the darkness again.
"Why not just get on with it?" asked Dean impatiently, words coming out in a harsh whisper.
"Oh no, Dean," the demon whispered. "No, no, no, no, no, we mustn't do that."
"Why?"
"It would spoil all my fun," the demon answered. "And you wouldn't want to do that would you?" Alastair didn't give Dean enough time to respond before continuing. "Because you know what Dean? I've been waiting for the day that you come to me, begging, begging me to take you and now, finally, here it is. I'm going to take full opportunity of this and watch you come undone."
"You sick bastard..."
"Uh-uh Dean," the demon said lightly. "Don't say something that could be applied to yourself as well."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Another laugh reached him, causing bumps to line his arms evenly. "Really?" the demon asked, clearly amused. "You've brought yourself off, thinking of me; you've disgraced an angel by touching him, all the while thinking of me; and now you've come here, gotten down on your knees, willingly, and waited for me to start things off." There was a short pause. "How am I doing so far?"
"Shove it up your ass, Alastair-"
A loud smack echoed through the room as the demon backhanded Dean across the face, knocking him to the side on the ground. Alastair ventured close to Dean, looming over him and looking down, a unreadable look sheathing his face.
"Get up," the demon ordered. Dean didn't move prompting Alastair to kick him in the ribs. "Get up!"
Inwardly, Dean groaned and did as he was told. He pulled himself back to his knees and bowed his head again. His breathing slowly went back to normal and Alastair moved away from him. This time, being able to see a little in the dark, Dean followed the demon's movements. He watched as Alastair walked to a bureau and pull out something he didn't immediately recognise until it was brought right before his eyes.
A lump formed in Dean's throat and he swallowed hard. It was a heretic's fork. Dean breathed heavily as the device was placed around his neck and the four sharp points rammed deep into his flesh under the chin and into the bone of the sternum. Dean found it prevented him from all movements with his head and he knew he would only be allowed to whisper, if barely that if he needed to speak.
"How does that feel, my pet?"
Timidly, Dean licked his lips before speaking, his voice barely audible. "Hurts..."
Alastair chuckled before walking away again to the drawers opening it and pulling out something that instantly caught Dean's eye. It was a silver razor, Alastair's favourite blade. The same one he carried everywhere with him. Alastair approached and Dean felt himself holding most of his breaths.
"Well, my pet, I can't have you moving too much while I decorate you," he said steadily. "And this device ensures that you don't move and if you do, well, let's just say it might be messy." Alastair knelt in front of Dean and still looked down at him. "Do you think you can behave, just for a little while?"
Dean said nothing but he felt more hatred run through him as Alastair spoke to him as though he were a child who had been naughty. Looking straight ahead, as though seeing through the demon, Dean stayed still as Alastair ran a hand down his chest, outlining the scars that still remained, the main one being a cross. Alastair caressed it almost lovingly before moving to the single scars on each side which Alastair had placed to feel his insides.
Suddenly, Dean flinched as the razor touched against his neck, making the four sharp ends against him pierce the skin lightly. Small drops of blood ran down his skin and Dean shivered as they tickled him lightly. The demon before him smiled faintly, his eyes twinkling in delight, knowing that there was much more to come.
"Wanna make a deal, Dean?" asked Alastair, his tone playful. Dean swallowed at those words, making the demon laugh breathily. "Not one of those deals," he clarified. "How about, if you satisfy me tonight I'll heal you of all the scars marking your body. If not, then I'll give you some more to keep."
"Deal," said Dean instantly.
Curling his fingers around Dean's neck, Alastair brought him forwards and crushed their lips together. Dean groaned as the pokes marked him further, feeling as though they were digging in way too far but the demon ignored them. When Alastair broke the kiss, he stroked Dean's cheek gently, watching as the hunter once again looked straight ahead, focused on nothing.
"I will enjoy having another opportunity to mark you as mine," the demon purred.
The hunter said nothing and didn't move, he just continued to stare. A noise of something close to approval sounded in Alastair's throat. Not taking his eyes off Dean's, Alastair moved the blade across Dean's chest, creating many lines along the flesh and he continued all the way up until he reached just below the sharp points still sticking into him. Alastair took a moment to himself and watched as more blood dripped down Dean's body before he got to his feet and leaned over to gently remove the heretic's fork from around his neck.
Once it was gone, a sharp breath flew from the hunter's mouth and he hung his head in relief, ignoring the searing pain in his chest and the blood that poured down thickly. Alastair dropped the torture device by his side and turned his head faintly. Dean didn't even give the object a single glance. Taking it as a very good sign, Alastair pushed Dean forwards onto his hands.
"Lick my shoes," he ordered firmly. At first Dean didn't move and Alastair wondered if the hunter heard him. "Lick my shoes until they shine with your spit."
Knowing that he shouldn't try to piss Alastair off, Dean leaned down and tentatively licked one side of the shoe, clearing the muck from them. The strong taste of leather filled Dean's mouth as well as the blood and dirt, which made him want to gag but he remained steady and continued until one shoe was completely clean.
"Now the other one," ordered Alastair.
Without saying a word or moving away, Dean did as he was told and licked the other one clean. Once Alastair was happy, he pushed Dean away from him and grabbed a bottle of water on top of the bureau and threw it towards Dean. It landed halfway between them and Dean gently reached for it, almost worried that doing so would anger the demon but he was ignored. Grabbing the bottle Dean opened it roughly and took a large swig before putting the top back on and placing it to the side.
"May I ask something?"
The demon didn't pause in his actions. "Since you asked so nicely... sure."
"What if Sam or Cas arrive before you're finished with me?"
The demon chuckled as he turned and kicked off his shoes before loosening his shirt from the confines of his jeans. Dean watched every movement, eyes lingering upon the long, pale fingers pulling the material away from his body. Abruptly, Dean blinked rapidly as Alastair's words pulled him back into the present.
"I'll never be finished with you, Dean," he purred before his voice changed to a hard tone. "Besides, neither of them will get here before this is over."
"How can you be so sure?"
Alastair still kept a distance from Dean and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, making Dean's mouth water but upon reaching the end he didn't take it off. Instead, he left it and approached another door in the room which Dean correctly guessed was a closet. As it opened, he felt his chest tighten as it was something he didn't want to see.
A girl who looked no older than seventeen was manhandled by Alastair who held her upper arm seemingly too tight and pulled her from the small closet. She was blinded folded and her long blonde hair was messy and hung freely around her face. The blue jeans she wore were dirty and covered in marks that looked to be blood. The loose white shirt covering her torso was ripped in several places with numerous drops of blood on it also. As she was pulled closer, Dean could see that she wore no shoes but her feet appeared unharmed.
As Alastair pushed her away from him, she hit something that sounded like a mattress and a quiet sobbing reaching his ears. It made Dean's heart tighten in his chest but he still remained silent, knowing that the demon would not want his opinion on this.
"I can be sure," replied Alastair, coming back into view, "Because you have no idea where you are and because it's going to take your brother a while the get here."
"And Cas?" asked the hunter quickly.
"Do you really think he's going to want to see you?" Alastair asked, incredulously. "Especially after what you did to him?"
"I'm still in his charge," said Dean knowingly.
"Perhaps," said Alastair, stopping in front of him. "But you hurt him. He's been disgraced and it's your fault. He'll send your brother and stay away."
Holding his razor again, Alastair pressed it against Dean's cheek. "Want to guess what's about to happen now?"
"You don't need her Alastair," said Dean roughly, his voice the loudest it has been all night. "You've got me. Do whatever you want to me but leave her alone."
"Oh, such the gentleman, Dean but I'm not going to do anything to her. You are. And don't think I'm finished with you yet. Stand up," ordered Alastair.
On shaking legs, Dean got to his feet and waited. Alastair still stood before him and again, stroked his cheek gently, a faint smile present on his face. "Oh, don't worry, Dean, I'll start on you again once you're finished with her. And remember, I'm watching."
"What am I supposed to do?"
Alastair had begun to walk away but stopped at the hunter's question. He turned again and shook an index finger at him. "I'm a little disappointed, Dean. I had hoped you already knew the answer to that." He took a deep breath and grabbed Dean's shoulder and led him towards the bed. "Slice her open, carve into her delicate, pale skin and do what you did while under my tutelage."
"But... she'll die," said Dean, voice breaking on the last word.
"Yes, she will," said Alastair shrewdly. "We're not in Hell anymore, Dean. Now, get started."
Dean found it difficult to ignore the excitement that lathered Alastair's voice. Taking a deep breath, Dean took hold of the razor that was held out to him and he knelt on the bed, beside the girl who lay on her back. Suddenly, a dull white light filtered into the room and Dean looked over to where it was coming from. Alastair was standing at one of the windows, opening the curtain slightly.
"I want you to see what you're doing," he said quietly.
Slowly, Dean licked his lips as looked the girl over. Her lips quivered as she continued to sob, small wet patches showing through the material of the blindfold. Lifting the razor to her clothing he abruptly stopped and lowered his arm by his side and got off the bed, standing on his feet and turning to face Alastair.
"No."
The word was spoken in a quiet but firm tone and Dean held the demon's suddenly sharp gaze. Alastair approached and stopped before Dean, looking down at the defiant hunter who still held his ground.
"I suggest you start," Alastair whispered dangerously.
"No," sighed Dean, tone still firm.
A sickening thud sounded through the room as Alastair backhanded Dean again, sending him flying across the room, hitting the wall before landing on the floor. Curling onto his side, Dean groaned as the cuts on his chest worsened and pain exploded through him. Alastair wasted no time in reaching him and shoving him onto his back before stabbing a blade through the one of the scars on his abdomen.
Dean screamed loudly but Alastair ignored it as well as the sounds coming from the bed, the woman seemingly nervous about the sudden commotion. Yanking the knife from Dean's body, Alastair threw it across the room and plunged two fingers into the hole, forcing the hunter's body to give them enough room to wriggle inside.
"Imagine if Sammy could see you now? How proud do you think he'd be of his big brother?"
"Shut up!" Dean yelled at the demon before giving a shout of agony.
As Alastair's fingers continued to wriggle inside him, Dean tried to move away from the uncomfortable touch but found the wall beside him prevented it, so instead he arched his back, wondering if it would lessen the pain. Dean shut his eyes tight and Alastair dropped his head beside Dean's ear and licked the lobe.
"I have missed your insides, Dean," said Alastair, reminding the hunter of how this nightmare began. "They feel like just how I remember."
"Stop... please..."
"Are you going to behave and do what I say?"
"Yes," the hunter stammered, opening his eyes and focusing upon Alastair, whose eyes had turned white.
Alastair licked Dean's ear lobe one more time before removing the fingers from his body and getting to his feet. The demon backed away and walked to the other side of the room, turning in time to see Dean just getting to his feet. He went back to the bed and picked up the razor that had fallen from his grasp. Kneeling on the bed beside the young girl, Dean held his breath and ripped the white shirt open, exposing her chest to him before he pressed the cold tip of the blade against her pale skin in between her breasts, causing her to give a startled gasp.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered, feeling powerless.
A whimper echoed through his ears, sounding much louder than it should have but Dean clenched his jaw before slicing down her torso very lightly. Barely any blood rised to the surface except for a couple drops which ran down her sides. Dropping the blade beside him on the bed, Dean reached down to the girl's jeans and tore them off her body, ignoring her whimpering.
Leaving only her panties on, Dean picked up the razor again and continued on what he had in mind. Pressing the tip against her left shoulder, he slowly dragged the blade all the way down to the wrist. Ignoring the fresh set of gasps that were sent into the air, he moved to the other arm, making the exact same pattern.
"Why isn't she responding?" asked Dean, feeling a slight trace of concern at the girl's lack of movement to the knife slicing along her skin.
"Don't stop," the demon responded.
All Dean did was nod before turning his attention onto the girl again. Placing the knife just below her bellybutton, Dean pushed the blade through right to the hilt and he listened to the sounds of her struggling before letting himself drown in them, knowing that there was no escaping this. He had chosen this; he should at least enjoy it.
By the time Dean was finished, hours had passed and the girl on the bed was no longer recognisable and she no longer made any sounds. The motel room had turned eerily silent except for the sounds of Dean's heavily breathing. Hopping off the bed again, he walked to the side of the room as Alastair moved towards the bed, wanting to examine his work.
After a lengthy inspection, a wide grin showed through on Alastair's face, telling the hunter that he was impressed. The demon that walked away from the body, seeming to have lost interest in it and he approached Dean, placing a hand against his shoulder, pushing him against the wall. Dean left his arms limp by his side as he waited for the next parts to come, which he hoped were going to be at least a little pleasant.
"Our chat isn't finished yet, Dean."
"What would you like to chat about?" asked Dean, challengingly.
"Your loyalties."
A faint frown appeared on Dean's face and he looked up into the demon's eyes. "What of them?"
"I want them to be mine," said Alastair without hesitation. "You've been running from me for a long time, Dean. It's time it ended. You know Azazel spoke the truth that night, about your place in the family... how they don't need you..."
"Shut up..."
"Don't interrupt," said Alastair, sticking a finger in Dean's face which he glanced at, wondering if he could bite it off. "They don't need you. Mommy's dead, daddy's dead, you've lost count how many time Sammy's chosen others over you and Adam's not here anymore. It seems you've failed your father more times than you know and it seems that everyone leaves you. You're alone Dean. You need someone."
"You really do need to shut up..."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Dean, have I touched a nerve?" asked Alastair, false mocking clear. "Daddy protected Adam. You protected Sammy. But... who protected you?" Alastair grinned at Dean's lack of response. "Come on, Dean. Who protected you from the big scary world?"
Taking the razor from Dean's hand, he pressed it into the soft hollow of his shoulder. Alastair waited until Dean took a few breaths before he looked at him again. "I would like an answer, Dean."
He rammed it in hard, driving the long blade to the hilt and from experience Dean knew it was jabbing out the back of his shoulder. Pain erupted through his body, making it throb laboriously. Tears flowed freely from Dean's eyes and Alastair watched them with interest. In Hell, Dean had shed tears before but this time it seemed different.
"No one!" Dean screamed in the demon's face. "No one ... no one took care of me."
"That's right. No one protected Dean," confirmed Alastair.
As Alastair pushed against the blade in his shoulder, Dean reached up with the arm that could move to grab at anything he could get hold of on the demon and eventually he took hold of his shirt which was still hanging loose around him. Dean squirmed against the wall, dread and panic gurgling through him, his breath quickening further. As the tip of a new razor teased across Dean's other shoulder, he shook his head slowly from side to side but no words came from the moving mouth.
"You know, Dean..." His name cut cruelly from those evil lips it sent a hollow shudder in Dean's chest that alone stole his breath. "...I could protect you..." the tip of the razor found the tender flesh before jamming it into place, drawing out screams from Dean that brought a small smile to Alastair's face.
Then Alastair waited. Waited until Dean's breathing returned close to normal before making the hunter look at him. Dean's eyes quickly glazed over but they were soon looking him over and a knowing smile came to Alastair's face.
"My, my, Dean," he whispered reaching down and grabbing hold of Dean's cock forcefully. "So hard for me."
Dean shuddered in a mixture of pleasure and shame. Alastair's hand pumped his cock roughly, pulling and pinching at the head, all the while his eyes locked onto Dean's and Dean stared back, finding that he was unable to look at anything else. Gasping in what he knew was pleasure; a faint shade of pink tinged his cheeks, embarrassed that he could possibly get off on this.
Arching against the wall, Dean's lower half moved closer to Alastair and he couldn't take it any longer. "Please..."
Alastair's movements against him slowed, making Dean feel more desperate for the release he wasn't yet allowed to have. "First you need to be loyal to me and prove it."
The last two words made Dean's desperate gyrations against Alastair stop and his breathing to slow down. "Prove it?" he asked slowly. "How?"
Releasing his hold on Dean, Alastair yanked the two razors from his body, ripping several tiny screams from Dean, some from shock some from the pain. Dropping one, he moved the other to his arm and cut a line and held it out to the hunter.
"Drink."
Dean's blood ran cold. He couldn't be serious? Dean's eyes widened as he looked to the blood which steadily dripped off Alastair's arm to the demon's white eyes. It was soon clear that he wasn't kidding.
"What will it do to me?"
A chuckle fell from the demon's evil lips. "It will make you mine." Seeing the fear flood Dean's face, Alastair continued. "It's what you want, Dean. I can see it and deep, deep down you know it too. You want to belong to someone, want someone to take care of you, protect you and I will do just that, when you drink my blood and become mine."
Without skipping a beat, Dean lunged forward and wrapped his lips around Alastair's bloody arm and sucked greedily, drinking as fast as he could, choking every so often when it became too much but Alastair didn't stop him. He just stroked Dean's short hair with one hand while the other arm was wrapped around his torso, holding him close. As Dean's free arm did the same and held his side, Alastair breathed deeply, enjoying the moment that the hunter finally became his.
Sensing when Dean had had enough, Alastair roughly pushed him off and shoved him onto the bed before pushing the dead girl off without touching her. As Dean glanced down he noticed the blood stained sheet and made to push it away but it was quickly forgotten when something grabbed his ankles and pulled him down.
His head fell back heavily against the bed as his legs wrapped around Alastair's waist, pulling him in close. The demon didn't prepare Dean and he didn't warn before slamming on home inside Dean's body. The hunter shouted in pain, echoing in Alastair's ears, making him grin with sadistic pleasure and he pounded into Dean several times before finally, the hunter came undone.
Without being touched again, Dean's orgasm hit him hard and hot white spurts shot from Dean's body as he screamed Alastair's name, gripping the sheets tightly. With a little more composure, Alastair's orgasm reached its end and he spilled his seed inside Dean's abused body. Once it was over, he stilled and bent down over Dean's body, holding his face in one large hand, making their eyes meet and Alastair leaned in close, his breath hitting Dean's face.
"You are now mine," he whispered possessively. "You belong to me. Is that clear?"
"Yes," said Dean instantly, nodding and keeping his eyes on Alastair. The demon smiled wickedly before crushing his mouth to Dean, tasting his blood on the hunter's bruised and swollen lips.
Pressing one hand in the middle of Dean's chest, Alastair chanted lightly, his eyes closed. Dean looked down and watched curiously as a red light spilled over them both, making him look away but when turning back, he noticed most of his scars along with the punctures in his shoulders had been healed.
It was not what Dean expected. He thought he would lose the deal completely and have almost no skin left but seeing as he still had some scars; it seemed Alastair was not going to forgive him entirely. Removing his hand, Alastair stroked Dean's face almost softly before pulling out of Dean's body and moving away from him.
"Sleep, my pet. You will need it."
Without having to be told twice, Dean moved into a more comfortable position on the bed and closed his eyes and let the sounds of nothing sweep over him. For the first time since he's encounter with Alastair, no nightmares of Hell haunted him.
When morning dawned and light spilled into the room, the hunter lying on the blood stained sheets opened his eyes, squinting lightly as he glanced around. He was alone, well, except for the dead body on the floor which had not yet been moved. Moving slowly and as quietly as he could, Dean got off the bed and found his clothes sitting on top of the bureau. He dressed quickly and when he turned he jumped faintly, startled as Alastair stood there, staring, a wide grin on his face.
Dean looked him over. He had dressed too and suddenly, Dean felt differently. No hatred or anger raced through his veins. Instead, it was curiosity that tugged at him, making him wonder what was about to happen now.
"Are you ready to begin?"
Dean only nodded to those words and Alastair came towards him. Dean swallowed hard over the lump in his throat but he held his ground and looked up at the blue eyes piercing through him.
"I'm glad to hear it," said the demon quietly. "I have something for you to start with."
With a click of his fingers, the door opened as though a gust of wind had blown through and before long there were two people standing at the door with a third between them. Fear ran through Dean's body. It was Sam. He looked beaten and bloody but very much alive as he struggled with the two demons holding him.
"Dean!?" he yelled, finally seeing his brother. "What are you doing? Help me!"
Dean lowered his eyes guiltily but he made no attempt to help. The two demons placed Sam on a chair which Alastair had placed in the centre of the room and they easily tied him to it. Putting an arm around Dean's shoulders, Alastair walked him over to stand before his little brother.
"Relax, my pet," said Alastair, sensing Dean's hesitation. "You're not going to kill me. I just want you to mark him. Decorate him as I did to you. Do you think you can handle that?"
"Yes," said Dean quietly, nodding.
"Good," said Alastair, leaving Dean's side, choosing to stand to the side, getting a good view.
"Dean, Bobby and I have been searching for you." He got no response from his brother. "Dean, he's missing. Bobby's gone and I don't know what happened. Dean, please-"
Sam's words were cut short as the older hunter placed a large piece of silver tape of Sam's mouth. Taking Alastair's favourite razor in hand, Dean ripped off Sam's shirt in one stroke, letting the tatters fall to the ground.
"I'm sorry, Sam," said Dean, eyes closed. "This is how it has to be."
Upon them opening, Sam's hazel eyes widened drastically as he locked onto his brother, noticing the difference. Fear flooded him and sheer panic gripped at his heart as all that stared back was a pair of white opaque eyes.
A/N: I know giving Dean white demon eyes like Alastair probabaly isn't realistic but when I thought of it as the ending, I liked it and it stuck. Thank you for reading.