Darkness. Complete darkness. Dean didn't know if he was floating or standing or something in between, but he was in a dark place. Suddenly, his feet hit the ground and he furrowed his brow. His boots crunched the ground as he wiggled them against it. Slowly, he reached down and felt the damp ground just as water began to come down. Water poured from the blackness above him as he still wasn't able to place where he was.
It was so dark that he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face as he waved it about. As soon as he took a single step forward, lightning struck the ground behind him. It lit up the world around him and he knew that he was in the woods somewhere. He tried to think back to why he would be in the woods before realizing that he was dead. If he was truly dead then where was he? Heaven? Hell? He couldn't imagine ever getting into Heaven, so Hell must be where he is.
He took in a deep breath and tasted the sour air. It burned his lungs, making him cough. He covered his mouth as his eyes began to water but the more he fought not to breath in the poisonous air, the more it seemed to burn his lungs. Dean began to stumble forward as he tried to keep the air from his lungs, but it was to no avail.
Another lightning strike hit the ground just behind him so close that he could feel the heat as it seared through his jacket. Panicked by the bolt, he began to jog. The longer he jogged, the more air he sucked in and the more it began to sicken him. Just as he was about to give up and let the next strike hit him, he saw a small light. It illuminated the edge of a door and he sprinted for it, not caring about anything else but finding shelter there.
He was just about the mount the porch to the small cabin when another bolt came down. This one was as close as the last and since his jacket and shirt were burned off in some areas, his skin took the brunt of the hit. He hit his knees hard as he cried out. His skin was on fire and it was unlike any pain he'd ever felt before. Dean coughed as he crawled his way up the porch and tried for the handle on the door.
The door open easily and Dean collapsed to the floor breathing hard until he got the strength to pull himself inside the cabin. He used his foot to close the door and laid on his stomach to keep cold air on his back. He could feel blood sliding down his sides, towards his stomach, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he tried to think about anything other than the pain.
"Who's there?" a female voice came and Dean knew the voice, but he couldn't place it.
"Hello?" Dean asked and tried to push himself up but failed. "Who are you?"
"Dean?" another voice came that sounded more male than female.
He placed that voice easily, "Ben? Lisa?"
"Dean!" Lisa cried from somewhere unknown to him in the house.
"Lisa…" Dean sighed. "Where are you?"
"I don't know…" Lisa breathed. "We were… Ben and I were… We were getting in the car and… I forget…"
As Dean pushed himself into a sitting position, he fought the tears that wanted to come, "You remember me… God, Lisa, I'm so sorry."
"What are you talking about, Dean?" Lisa asked from the darkness.
"You're dead…" Dean breathed as tears began to trickle down his cheeks. "You're in hell because of me… I'm so sorry. Ben and you don't deserve this."
"Dean, what did you do?" Lisa demanded.
"It's your fault!" Ben yelled. "We're in hell because of you! That's who that man was talking about, mom! He was talking about Dean!"
Dean's head perked up and he studied the blackness around him, "Who? What man, Ben?"
"The man!" Ben yelled.
"Do you know what he looked like?" Dean asked and struggled to stand.
"He's right behind you," Ben spat out at him.
Dean was just about to turn around when something hard hit him in the back of the head. He was sent to the ground, his vision going blurry as a light was flicked on. He looked up and focused his eyes on the corners of the room. He gulped down a scream as his eyes went from Lisa to Ben. Both of them were in cages in the far corners of room with their eyes sewed shut. Blood was coming from almost every orifice on their faces and there were various markings carve into their skin. Dean recognized the markings as being demonic and he knew that they were lost to him.
He felt rage build up inside of him as he turned himself over to face their attacker. As he was face to face with the man, his eyes widened. This man didn't just look like his father, he was his father.
"Dad?" Dean asked, horror etching his voice.
"Hello there, son," John spit out and brought the butt of the gun back before making it collide with Dean's head. His vision blurred from a second before he scrambled back away from his father.
"What are you doing, dad?" Dean screeched as John approached him again.
"I'm giving you what you deserve," John spat. "You're a disease and so is everyone you come into contact with."
"I'm not a disease!" Dean defended as John's work boot came down abnormally hard on his leg, snapping it easily. Dean cried out, but John just laughed.
"You don't want to scare Lisa, do you?" John cackled as he brought his machete from the belt around his waist.
"Dean!" Lisa cried.
"Why are you doing this?" Dean demanded and watched the blade swing back before pausing.
"Because you deserve this," John said with a wicked grin.
"Ben and Lisa don't though," Dean defended and eyed the blade. "Dad, let them go. Please." Dean watched as his father's eyes began to clear, the fog that had been inside of them clearing. John cocked his head to the side and was just about to speak before his whole demeanor changed.
"Stupid boy!" John yelled. "Don't you know I like the disease?" He then swiped the blade down towards Dean. It embedded itself into Dean's side with a sickening thud. As his father pulled it back, blood squirted from the wound. Dean swore he'd lost enough blood to die by now, but if he remembered hell then he knew that he would never die here. "Once I got you locked up in your own cage, I'll go upstairs and get that pretty little angel of yours. I'm sure I'll make him scream.
As the blade collided with him a second time, a burning feeling then began to erupt in his chest, starting in the center and fanning outward.
