Title: Exist

Author: Fenikkusu Ai

Claim: Alastair/Dean

Table: DIY

Prompt: #7 Blood

Rating: M

Summary: If he surrendered, the pain stopped for a moment or two.

Word Count: 406

There was the blood. Always the blood everywhere. Dean could find no relief from it.

Hell was hurt. Hell was pain. The blood was endless. Red gore surrounded him everywhere. It trickled out of his victims to stain the floor crimson. It gushed down the walls and pooled around his feet. He could smell the rich iron odor of it in the air, taste it on his tongue, and most horribly feel it slide between his fingers.

Drip, drip, drip...

The sound was sickening.

In his life, Dean had seen plenty of blood. His own. His brother's. Demons and their victims. But, the blood would always stop. Wounds healed. Here, the wounds never closed. They continued to be cut fresh day after day.

Though employed under the master torturer, it wasn't all work. Even Dean had time off, but it was time spent under Alastair's watchful eye. He wasn't allowed to roam free. Not that there was an escape from hell.

On his knees, the place Alastair commanded him to be, Dean allowed his master to touch his property. Alastair's hand gently ruffled Dean's hair. He could literally feel the demon savor his submission. Dean bowed his head lower, and a fingers wound deeper into his hair. If he surrendered, the pain stopped for a moment or two. He could just...exist.

"You like me, don't you, Dean?"

Dean kept quiet. He knew Alastair wasn't expecting an answer anyway.

"I'll make you like me," the demon added lethally in a low whisper.

Dean gasped. Suddenly, he felt that he was suffocating. There was an ache in the pit of his stomach. Something bad was going to happen.

Then, the illusion of peace was shattered.

"You're just pretending!" With this last word, Alastair backhanded Dean across the face. The hunter slid across the floor into a pool of blood.

His cheek throbbed, and he knew Alastair had left a bruise. Dean just lay there and didn't make a move. He knew he would only make it worse.

Slowly, Alastair crept over. "You'll grow to like me, won't you, Dean? We have eternity after all. Soon, you'll beg for my touch. Won't you?"

"Yes, sir." It was as if Dean was speaking to his father again.

Alastair chuckled and Dean could glimpse the blood on his teeth. He could still hear the sound of blood dripping on the floor. The same repetitive sound.

Drip...drip...