AN: Sorry for the delay, work started back up again and well. Work is work, and it pays the bills and therefore wins. I hope people are still enjoying. This is a little graphic chapter. And remember this is set right after season 2 finale. Let me know what you think : )

This chapter is for macs ace, who is a darling person who I wish all the best to! Thanks to macs ace and Empath for giving this the once over and as always, mom never taught me how to say no so all mistakes are mine.

ENJOY

Dean's heart broke at his brother's quiet plea. He didn't know his heart could break any more than when Sam had actually died, but Sam was always bringing out new levels of emotion in him.

"I'm trying Sammy. I'm trying."

Holding his baby brother tight, Sam's back against his chest, he never stopped his steady stream of encouragement to help get Sam out of whatever prison his mind had trapped him in.

It had been an hour since Bobby told him he just had to wait it out. One long hour that had Sam muttering and calling out for him.

"I would have made the deal sooner if I'd have known this would happen," Dean said, his voice choked with emotion, his eyes red, and his body exhausted as Sam began to call out once more.

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Sam's eyes snapped open, once again nothing ever stayed the same, his settings constantly changing, his body always resetting.

His skin fresh, free from any marks that had marred it, but the pain held fast under the soft flesh, never letting him forget what had just happened.

He stood in an open field. One large red-bricked building stood in the middle, large tornadoes surrounding the edges of the open field, threatening to spill over. The wind whipped through his hair, debris flying through the air every so often. Sam ducked it easily, terrified of the tornadoes, not trusting that they would stay where they were.

Sam moved cautiously towards the large building, the green grass of the field quickly changing, tainted red, the same color of the brick that dressed the large structure that loomed ahead. He could see the lumps of objects in the distance. Stepping closer he saw them move, the fingers curled, blood dripping as they moved.

He continued forward, side stepping around the people who lay on the ground; their bodies were torn up, their eyes begging for help, hands grabbing at Sam as he passed by. He looked on, horrified, watching as Demons, their eyes void of any life, lifted bodies from the ground, dragging them to the large red bricked building. They tossed the bodies carelessly inside.

"Priority first," a voice gurgled from below. The man's eyes were wild as he laughed, blood pooling over his lips and dripping to the ground, his legs missing. Sam backed away. The man followed, dragging his torso. "You can't win, they always get you. It's better just to give up now Sammy."

Sam's heart was in his throat, looking down at the 'man' that was speaking to him from the ground, the lower half of his torso missing. Sam wheeled back stumbling over more grabbing hands, he caught his balance before he fell.

The man just laughed dragging himself closer. "You can't win!" the man screamed as the demons came for him. Picking him up from the ground, blood flowing freely from every orifice of the man's face, they carried him away, his laughter resounding through the air.

"What the…" Sam couldn't finish his thought.

He was still moving back and as his feet caught on a large figure, he stumbled; his arms were wind milling, desperately trying to correct his balance. It didn't matter; he fell hard, the ground coming up quick, a spot seeming to have cleared just for him. Hands instantly groped at his body, coating him with foreign blood that singed his clothes burning his skin.

"No, no, no," Sam begged, frantically trying to bat the grabbing hands away. But they held firm, planting him to his spot. Pain pierced through his body, every injury he had gotten ripping through his skin. He tried to call out but his teeth shattered and fell from his mouth. The white mixed with the red on the auburn ground, the pain radiating through his system.

The crazy look he had seen on so many of the faces as he had walked through the field slowly embedding into his eyes, the crazy look of fear and desperation.

Moaning in pain, he looked up to the sky and struggled to breathe through the blood that filled his mouth and spilled over the edges.

Watching as more people walked through the field of dying souls, Sam tried to grab at anyone who passed close by. He just needed help, why didn't the people get that he needed help?

He tried to yell, his voice gurgled, the smell of blood, pain and terror filling his nose and tainting his soul.

"What am I supposed to do?" Came booming through the sky, his brothers words shattered his eardrums, Dean's panicked voice filled his head, repeating the saying over and over.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam was getting worse, his body enduring a torture Dean couldn't see, and that tore at Dean worse than actually seeing it. At least if he could see it, he could stop it.

"What… to… do," Sam muttered tossing once more.

Dean held him close. "Easy little brother."

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

It felt like an eternity of pain and waiting. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but there was little else he could do.

Dean's voice continued to echo through the sky, the endless chanting of "what am I supposed to do" resoundingover the moans of pain stirring the restless bodies that lay scattered around the field who began to chant in rhythm with his brother's voice.

Sam tried to move, his hands felt like they were going to snap with the weight he placed on them, but their pain is nothing compared to the pain in Deans voice. Sam had to get to his brother, had to help him.

Dragging himself forward, his heart beating a little faster. He could ignore the pain in his hands, but he couldn't ignore the feeling that his lower half was slowly being left behind with every inch he moved forward.

His body was already starting to rot, the force of dragging his bleeding and broken frame quickly leading to his upper body detaching from his lower body, his torso following his forward direction while his legs lay still and motionless, left behind to continue to slowly decompose into the ground.

The sickening feeling of losing his legs was enough to stop his forward motion and backpedal to where his lower half lay, hoping against hope that maybe he was just imagining it. That his legs were not just detaching from his body.

Looking at his motionless lower limbs his arms struggled to keep him supported, finally snapping under the pressure.

Sam cried out, falling to the ground turning onto his back, arms in the air, the bones having snapped through the skin.

Shaking with pain, the blood flowed freely from his eyes, mouth and nose. Looking up at the dark sky, his brother's voice had faded, replaced with the moans and cries from other poor souls who tried to walk through the field of the dead and dying.

Sam had long since given up trying to talk, his mouth filling with blood every time he tried to open it. His tears tainted red as he cried, wishing for his brother, not wanting to accept that Dean wasn't coming for him. 'Holdonholdonholdonholdon,' he chanted.

Loud footsteps drew his attention. The demons were walking through the field once more; they walked closer to Sam, who just shook his head as large hands grasped him. Lifting him from the ground, his legs stayed where they were, slowly detaching as he was lifted higher, his head snapping back, having no strength to hold it up. He was just glad that it didn't fall completely off.

A gentle hand lifted his head, supporting it. His eyes searched out the source and he saw his brother's figure standing over him, moving him slowly.

Sam tried to call out to him, blood pouring out as he moaned. It was enough to garner his brother's attention, but Sam wasn't sure he wanted it anymore. Pools of black stared at him; his brother's gentle features couldn't disguise the demon that was now in him. A laugh resounded from the other figure that carried Sam to the red-bricked building.

"Your brother's soul is ours now, Sammy."

Sam shook his head, trying to struggle, cries of pain cutting through the dark night; his brother's hand quelled his movements as they reached the building. "Just come back to me, little brother," Dean pleaded, a sad smile decorating his pale lips as Sam was thrown in, his brother the last thing he saw before darkness took over once more.

AN: Hope you liked it, let me know, I'll try and have the last chapter up by Friday, the latest Saturday.