Author's Note: 3rd update this week! I am awesome! I've gotten some inquiries as to where I'm going with this story and I must warn you all that if you're reading this you are in for a long and wild ride. I fully intend to take this through Dean's childhood, eventually making it to the series. But I will not be fastforwarding to there anytime soon as there is way more adventure, danger, angst, and humor left to tell about all the years in the Winchesters' lives. Now I would like to thank Stone120, roy23, new21writer, Invader Kiwi, FireChildSlytherin5, Mirikili68, snseriesfan, Wunjo, X5EgSparks, RoseDragon666, savannaharaiza5, jokergirl94, sarah, BranchSuper, murphy9202, Julefor, kasey123, elf, and Araina Richardson for their wonderful reviews. And now, on with the show...
Chapter Seven: Waking Up From Hell
Dean gritted his teeth against the intense pain that was shooting through his body. He was suspended far above… well, he wasn't sure what exactly was beneath him but it couldn't possibly be good… by chains. And the chains were connected to him by large hooks that dug into his flesh. Any movement on his part made them tear his skin and muscle even more, but it was impossible to stay completely still. Besides, the weight of his body was pulling him downward against the metal that pierced his skin, causing him extreme agony. And it was hot. So dreadfully hot that sweat poured down off of him. His throat was raw from screaming for help that he knew would never come. He wished that it would all just be over, but he knew that that would never happen. And he couldn't even pray for death to end his suffering since he was already dead. Dead and in Hell. His eternal torment had just begun and he'd already had more than enough.
Suddenly he felt the chains begin to move. They were pulling out and away from him, but the hooks were still inside of him. Dean let out a strangled moan as he felt the cold metal stretch out his skin as far as it could go. And then he once more found his voice to scream in agony as his flesh ripped open and he fell.
But he didn't have far to fall. Dean landed on a spider-web of chains that had been a few dozen feet below him. He shook from the pain and let out small pathetic noises as he tried to move himself. Blood streamed down from a huge gash in his shoulder and the gaping wound in his side. The other tears in his skin and muscles weren't quite as bad. Dean got to his knees and tried to figure out where to go from there. But before he could come up with some sort of plan, more hooks connected to chains shot out of nowhere and embedded themselves in him. Seconds later, he was right back where he started.
Dean tried to cry out in pain, but nothing except for blood came out of his mouth. This time, one of the hooks had pierced his throat. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to find a position where maybe it wouldn't hurt quite so much. But there wasn't even a small amount of relief to be had.
The hunter had no clue how long he hung suspended like that before he felt the chains pulling once again. This time, he didn't make any sound as the hooks tore his flesh apart. Dean fell once more into another mass of chains.
The severely injured young man didn't wait for more hooks to dig into him this time. He rolled off the chains and fell again. And again. Dean figured that if he kept moving, maybe he'd be able to outrun the torture that was intended for him. Maybe he'd find a moment of relief. But then he freed himself from a web of chains to find himself in a freefall.
The drop took forever and the impact was horrendous. Dean felt all his bones break and his insides getting crushed. But still, he was conscious when he caught fire and the tattered remains of his skin began to burn. He couldn't move or even scream as his flesh blackened and peeled away. His internal organs cooked and the agony was beyond anything he'd ever imagined. Even knowing that he couldn't make a sound, Dean opened his mouth to cry out in terror and pain.
"Ahhhhhh!" Dean didn't even realize that he was audibly screaming. He just wanted to escape the pain. But he was sure that he'd never be able to, so he kept on screaming. Then arms circled around him and he felt another stab of fear go through him as he wondered who'd grabbed him and what they were going to do to him next. "No! Stop! Please let me go. Please." He knew he was begging and pleading but he couldn't help it. Everything was just too much for him. He expected his captor to laugh or mock him. He didn't expect to hear a calming, soothing voice telling him everything was okay, but that was exactly what was reaching his ears.
"Dean, sweetie, wake up. You're okay. No one's going to hurt you, baby. You're safe. It's okay, Dean. Everything's okay now. You're safe, baby."
Dean opened his eyes to find himself not in Hell but in something damned close to his idea of Heaven. His mother was holding him close to her, rubbing his back, and rocking him gently as she spoke reassurances over and over. He felt safe and loved. Dean reached tiny arms up to wrap around his mother as tears ran from his eyes.
…
…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…
…
Mary had run into her son's bedroom expecting to see some demon trying to once more kill Dean. Instead, she saw her son tangled up in his blankets, thrashing around and making small noises of distress. She ran to him immediately and sat down on the bed.
"Dean, sweetie, wake up."
Instead of waking, the boy curled in on himself and began moaning and sobbing in his sleep. The sounds he was making reminded Mary of a hunt that she'd gone on long ago with her father. They had been hunting a werewolf and had tracked it down moments too late to save the beast's newest victim. The young man lay there making the most pathetic and agonized sounds she'd ever heard and it was a relief when he finally died. And the noises her son was making were pretty much identical.
"Dean?"
And then he let out another scream that was filled with pain and fear. Mary scooped the boy up and out of the covers, pulling him tight to her chest. He started to struggle to get away and began to beg and plead with her to let him go. But, suspecting that he wasn't really aware that it was his mother that was holding him, Mary held him even tighter and began to rub soothing circles on his back.
"Dean, sweetie, wake up. You're okay. No one's going to hurt you, baby. You're safe. It's okay, Dean. Everything's okay now. You're safe, baby." Mary tried to comfort the distressed child as she began to gently rock him like she would when he was a baby.
Dean's eyes opened and he stopped fighting her and threw his arms around her, crying into her chest, his small body shaking violently.
Mary continued to soothe the distraught boy as she looked up and shot a questioning glance to Castiel, who had followed her upstairs. She was wondering if this was a result of the night's events or something more. The angel was looking at Dean with such sorrow that Mary realized that Dean was dreaming of something far worse than his encounter with the demon.
She ran a hand through her son's hair as she felt his trembling start to slow.
"Hey, baby. What happened?"
The boy shrugged. "Bad dream."
"You want to tell me about it?"
"Nah, that's okay. I'll be fine." But his reassurances would've sounded more sincere if he wasn't still crying a little bit.
"Dean, you know that you can tell me, right?"
"It's nothing." The child pulled away and crawled back onto the mattress. Mary noticed for the first time that he was still wearing his bloody pajamas.
"We should get you cleaned up a bit."
Dean looked down at himself, surprise registering on his face as he realized that he was covered in his own dried blood.
"Yeah… I'll go get washed up."
"I'll get the water ready for you after I get some clean pajamas out." Mary offered, standing to walk to his dresser.
"I got it." Dean stated.
"Dean, let me help."
"Just stop!" The boy looked like he was going to burst into tears again.
"Stop what?" Mary asked, thinking that he was probably going to get mad that she was treating him like a child. Castiel had warned her that he would try to act like he was still his normal self.
"Stop pretending that you care! I don't know why you're doing it, but stop."
"Dean. I'm not pretending. I'm your mother, I love you, so of course I care!"
"But… no. You said that I'm not your son. You don't want me, so don't you dare say that you actually care."
Now Mary had tears running from her eyes. "Oh baby, no. I didn't mean that. Not like you think I did. I just… it hurt to think that my son had to live through all you've lived through. I still want you. And I'll always love you."
Dean was looking at her with a hopeful yet cautious expression. "You… you're not disappointed in me?"
Mary walked over and picked him up once again. "Never."
After a moment, she felt Dean hug her back. She squeezed him tightly before placing him back down on the bed. He gave her a small smile. She could tell that he was still a bit unsure but knew that in time her actions would be able to convince him that she hadn't been trying to reject him earlier.
"So, why don't I go get things ready?"
"Okay, Mom." Dean agreed.
Mary turned to Castiel who had remained silent the whole time. "You'll keep an eye on him until I come back?"
"Of course."
"Dude, I'm right here." Dean interrupted, obviously annoyed that he was being talked about while he was within earshot.
"I'll be right back." Mary promised as she left the room.
…
…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…
…
Dean watched his mom walk out of his bedroom. He wasn't sure what to believe or how to feel. He desperately wanted what she'd just told him to be the truth but it was hard to believe that she really wanted him. In Dean's experience, he was only really needed when it came to hunting and after his usefulness was over, he'd be abandoned. But she said she'd always want him. Always love him. So maybe that meant that she'd never leave him. Maybe…
Dean turned to Cas, a little embarrassed that the angel had seen him sobbing like a baby. "Dude, what the hell is going on? I just had the absolute worst Hell flashback I've ever had. I mean seriously disturbing crap. It wasn't even this bad right after you pulled my ass out of the pit."
"I believe it is a side effect of your new age. A child's mind is not equipped to handle the memories that you possess."
"So, what? They're just gonna keep coming?"
"I'm not sure."
"What do you mean, you're not sure? You're the one who did this to me."
"Yes, and it is the first time I've ever done something like this. I don't know much more than you do."
"Awesome." Dean commented sarcastically. Inside, he was terrified of the idea that he'd have any more flashback dreams as vivid as the one he'd just woken from.
The tiny hunter jumped off his bed and walked over to his desk. He grabbed the chair and dragged it over to his dresser. Then he stood up on it and pulled open the top drawer. Dean pulled out a pair of blue pajamas with red fire trucks on them. Not really his style anymore but they were better than the red plaid ones that had faded to an almost pink color. Clothing in hand, he closed the drawer and hopped off the chair.
"I could've gotten that for you." Cas informed him.
"Well, make yourself useful and put the chair back." Dean responded with a smile.
Cas did as asked, although Dean hadn't actually been serious about his request. He knew that his new size meant that he'd need help with many things he was used to doing by himself. But he'd be damned (again) if he was going to let everything be done for him. Even if part of him thought that it was actually nice to be cared for for a change.
Without glancing back, Dean headed out of his room and towards the bathroom to get cleaned up. And maybe wash away the horrors that the nightmare had left behind.
Author's Note Part Two: I hope you all enjoyed... if reading about Hell memories can be considered enjoyment... Oh, well. Please take just a moment and leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks.
